“Something like that,” I repeated her words from earlier. “Anywhere I should be checking out?”
“I hear there’s a club down on the river called Divide.” Her eyes sparkled. She touched the hanger of the bra at the front. “I’ll start your tour. See if you can keep up. All bras are designed to work in a specific way. The selection you happen to be standing nearest to is the balcony bra. Great choice. Designed with less material on the half-cups and wider straps, they make the most of what the wearer is rocking and have a boosting effect.”
Her subtle but purposeful lift of her chest sent my mind someplace hot, with her in one of those bras and nothing else.
“What do balcony bras do, Edward?” she questioned.
Make her tits delicious? “Boost ’em.”
Her head incline went straight to my dick.
Either she was flirting with me or was a world-class saleswoman. I pinned my hopes on the former.
“I’m a fast learner,” I murmured.
She wrinkled her nose. “Guys probably shouldn’t admit to being fast in the underwear department.”
At my bark of a laugh, she meandered to the next rack of lace. I followed, stray dog style.
“This is a range of padded bras. Excellent for giving the wearer the shape she desires and making mountains out of molehills. Would that interest you, sir?”
Fuuuck.
It was the ‘sir’ that did me in. Sweet yet sarcastic, definitely playing with me in the best possible way. I hadn’t enjoyed flirting like this in the longest time. I was far too used to being hit on for my name and bank balance to not be jaded by dating.
That was it. What I was missing. The thrill of the chase.
Purposefully, I held her gaze then dragged my focus lower to the opening of her shirt, giving myself an eyeful of her incredible cleavage. If I was off the mark, she’d let me know.
“What are you wearing, Brenda?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Edward.”
“Can I find out?”
“I don’t know, can you?”
The moment hung between us, perfectly tense and heavy. My dick was half hard. I was a second away from snatching her hand and suggesting we find a lockable store cupboard.
My fucking phone buzzed.
Brenda tilted her head. “Are you going to answer that?”
I gave a single shake of my head, my muscles locked. “No fuckin’ chance.”
But a voice summoned her from the customer service desk. “Miss Braveheart?”
My brand-new obsession started. Her cheeks pinkened, and she whirled around. “Yes?”
Two women waited on her. She left me, taking her swell of energy, and fantastic tits, with her.
I sighed and palmed my phone with the call still ringing. The name on-screen told me it was the Deadwater businessman I’d been waiting to speak to.
I answered, still watching my girl. “Mr Tucker, good to hear from you. Douglas, of course,” I added at his correction.
The pretty lady whirled around and stared at my phone. A new emotion mixed in with her obvious anxiety over her meeting. Unpleasant recognition? Dislike?
I frowned, but my caller continued speaking, and the two women demanded her attention.
