A month later, Amber still hadn’t gotten her digital camera fixed. It decided to break in the middle of a picture-taking session of her malachite pieces. But that hadn’t stopped her. It had been a month since coming down with pretty-man syndrome, and she knew she had to get in there to see Jason soon. There was no cure for what she had, other than to look into his eyes and pretend she was going into his back room to find shoes. Yeah, she wanted to find shoes all right, and make him slip something right into her—his own personal shoehorn, well oiled and glistening. That was the very word—into—into the sweetness, into the pleasure.
Two weeks later, she entered the mall with her mom and sister Geneva and peeked around the corridor to see if he was in his store, not sure if he even worked on Sundays. There was another man standing in the store, the same one who had been there before. He’d been good enough to let Jason have at her, but where was her Jason now?
She smiled and waved at him, knowing he remembered her, as every man seemed to do nowadays, though she still didn’t know why. Much to her surprise, Jason looked around to see what his coworker was waving at and he spotted her. He smiled and waved, too, making Amber’s day. He motioned for her to come over, but Amber decided to take care of the other mall stuff, giving herself more time to spend in the lap of luxury.
By twelve, she was aching for a good dose of Jason DeMaras’s hands somewhere on her body. Ditching her mom and sister was normally the last thing she would ever do, but Jason could not be compromised, not in her book. What she had to tell them eventually was an utter lie, but it worked nonetheless—she had to look for a dress for an upcoming shower. Since her mom and sister were both out there for kitchen utensils, looking for a dress was the last thing they wanted to do.
All three booked in different directions, and Amber was free—free to enter Roma Shoes and dream her little dream. Why not? She’d been a fool for a man before, why not for one with sense, a job, and a body to slaughter for? She wanted him to own her—mind, body and soul.
When she turned the corner, there he was, standing in the front of the store looking bored, but that was about to change. Remembering the content of the short story she gave him weeks before, she knew that the moment their eyes met, the excitement would start.
One look at beautiful Mr. Jason set her mind ablaze. He was sporting a maroon silk dress shirt and black slacks. They looked so good against his brown complexion that she almost lost it right there in that crowded mall. No matter what her panties were doing, her feet were making tracks toward him; and for some reason, the closer she got, the more nervous she became. Amber Donohue was really just a skittish teenager in a thirty-two-year-old body, a bunch of bundled-up nerves, but they were the good kind of nerves, making her tingle all over from the good stuff life had to offer. Her feet moved faster.
Jason saw her approaching and extended his arms, all too happy that the queen of the mall was within his reach again. And Amber did exactly what he wanted her to do—move swiftly into his body, making him hard again in all the right places, keeping his heart so warm for a stranger who was suddenly not so strange. His voice broke with heightened anticipation. “Amber. Where you been, girl?”
Once their bodies parted, they stared hungrily at each other, as though the good thing would leave if they weren’t careful to trap it. Amber lingered on his honey-coated smile as her body ached for just one more touch. She’d spent too much time eating, drinking and sleeping Jason DeMaras. Nothing existed in her mind but the very idea of him; and how his naked, slick body would feel next to hers; yet, she had to force her lips to move, to do something else other than tremble from want of a juicy kiss.
As like him, her voice communicated excitement that was too hard to mask. “I’ve been, well, working. I finally got the land contract for my store. That alone was work beyond work.”
He took her hands into his. “That’s great! I remember you saying something about squaring things away. Now I have a place to visit my favorite customer.”
“How can I be your favorite customer when I haven’t bought one pair of shoes from you?”
“I’ll say it like this: there’s more to life than securing a purchase.” He moved in closer. “Besides, when you’re in the store, I do my own bit of shopping. Get what I’m saying?”
She beamed. “You really are too kind, Jason.”
He quickly looked around at the small crowd beginning to enter the mall. “Come on in. It’s just Malcolm and myself in the store until two-thirty, and he’s busy with inventory. Plenty of time to chat. That and look at stunning shoes that belong on pretty feet. I held a pair aside for you.”
“You did? Cool! The red pair, right?”
“You got it, but I’ve really got to talk to you about that story, girl.”
“You liked it?”
“In two words, hell yeah!”
They sat side by side on the back loveseat, so close to each other that Amber could feel his thigh on hers, feeling heat pulsating from him, hot lava from a hot male. Again, his eyes met hers with such excitement and heat, and a smile that melted her down.
“Girl, that story! It was, well, it did things to portions of my body that shall remain nameless for now.”
“Then my plan worked all too well. However, I expected to see you when I dropped it off the other day. They said you were off, and I made them promise me you’d get it.”
I’d love to get it, he thought. “They made sure it was in my hands the minute I stepped into the store. I read it at home that night, in the privacy of my own bedroom.”
“What a bedroom that must be.”
He moved a bit closer. “It could be, but it’s lonely.”
“I don’t believe that. Someone as hot as you are should have women crawling all over you.”
“Thanks, but I’m picky, waiting for the right woman. Speaking of such, you don’t look like someone who would write erotica.”
“Really? How should someone look who writes them?”
“What I’m saying is, you look like the kind of woman those stories are written about.”
“No way! My heroines are always exotic. They live exotic lives, engage in exotic sex, have exotic men at their beck and call. Believe me, that’s not me.”
“I beg to differ. I loved the story; hotter than I anticipated.” He leaned back and looked at her, sporting a sly smile. “All that hot, seething sex coming from one hot, seething woman—none other than Ms. Amber Marie Donohue. I wanted to be in that story so bad that I was sweating.”
“Glad I could do that to you.” Her brows furrowed, remembering his last sentence. “How do you know my name is Amber Marie Donohue? I never told you my middle—”
“Another customer came in wearing exotic wire-wrapped crystals the other day, and I asked about them. She gave your name. Believe me, I’m not psychic enough to know anything like that. The only thing I know are gut feelings.”
“And let me guess, your gut feeling is telling you I need a pair of Enzos.”
“I don’t think you’d like to know what my true feelings are. I did hold a nice pair that would be perfect for you, but I want you to give me something first.”
Mind on overdrive and leaving earth immediately. The sensually handsome Jason DeMaras needed something from her, a merely attractive woman. Suddenly, wanting to know a man’s gut feeling was top priority; something that ceased to exist along with her ex, Maurice. He never cared about anything other than how he looked to himself in the mirror.
Amber thought her voice was beyond quivering, but as usual, she came out smelling like a rose, and sounding like a queen. Soon, she hoped, one with a new king. “What would I possibly have that you would want?”
“I shouldn’t answer that, but I will. Another story.”
Her deflated heart made her weak. Naturally, her mind went on a whirlwind adventure, thinking about him whisking her into his arms, taking her into the back room, and doing all those delicious, dirty things that she’d written about and was brazen enough to give to him. Nope, his fancy centered around another story instead of getting the real thing firsthand. Reality awakened her. “If you let me try on the Enzos, I’ll bring in another story next week. Deal?”
“Be right back.” He looked down at her feet. “Eight and a half, right?”
“You know it all, don’t you?”
“Only with customers I concentrate on.”
Within minutes, he was back, as though being separated from her one more minute would kill him. Yes, her hot little story had bitten him hard, turned him into a testosterone-pumping mass of hard muscles, and the boner he was beginning to sport was indicative of his feelings. He eagerly plopped the boxes down and went to work on someone he’d wanted to touch intimately going on a month now. His voice deepened as he spoke. “I have a pair of red three-inch pumps; leather so buttery smooth that they’ll make you feel like you’re walking on air. Let’s try them.”
Hell of a salesman? He certainly was. The sound of his voice buttering up those buttery leather pumps sold her, and feeling them, along with his fingers on the underside of her foot, really took her there. A raspy, “Slide them on,” got them both going.
Jason quickly removed the first shoe from the box, slowly pulling the balled paper from it, stretching it, lengthening it, then finally jerking it out. Amber watched his antics, knowing exactly what the fuck he was doing, and she liked it—a lot. She wanted to pull and stretch him much the same way.
Next, he slid the footy on. The feel of his smooth, incredibly long fingers soothing and stroking her bare foot made her almost slide from the chair. Composure was a hell of a thing to hold on to at that time, but she tried her best, not wanting him to know that she would gladly lie down in the middle of the store with him, pull her panties off in front of everyone, and let him slid in easily, quickly, and pound away mercilessly inside of her. In the past, her thoughts were known to get her in trouble, but if she didn’t stop thinking about what Jason could do to her, they’d both get arrested. So what? It would be worth a little jail time just to see him slide his zipper down.
Jason slid the pump on slowly, smoothly, evenly, then secured it by trapping it in his hand for a better fit. “Does that feel good?”
Mesmerized, Amber forgot she was on earth. The tightness of her groin twisted her into knots. The throbbing between her thighs from just looking at him was almost too much to bear, and all she could say was a weak, “Yes, it feels wonderful.”
“May we try the other? I wouldn’t want you walking around in that new shop of yours in pain.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“No. Nothing but the best for Ms. Amber Marie. By the way, when do I get to see this new shop of yours?”
“Any time Jason wants to. I…uh, mean, when do you want to come in?”
“Now would be the perfect time to slide inside.” Their eyes met, lingered on what they wanted so much—each other. “What I mean is, I’d love to come by but my hours here are so long and tight.”
Long and tight, just what she wanted. “Really? How late do you work?”
“We close at ten, usually; eight tomorrow night. I tidy up things before I leave. Would that be too late?”
“It’s my shop now. I can keep it open as long as I want to. Usually by ten I’m in my little bed, ready to watch Golden Girls, but for you, I’ll stay open.” Wide open.
A tantalizing smile crossed his face. “You’ll stay open for me?”
“Anytime.”
“I’ll take that into consideration, pretty girl.”
Please, please, please do.
He slipped the other shoe on and secured it with a nice rub up and down her ankle and the front of her foot. “Does it feel good?”
“More than you know. I mean—
“I already know what you mean, sugar. It can feel a whole lot better if you’ll let it.”
Normally when a salesman said that to her, he was referring to comfort pads. Not that day. The comfort was definitely in the slide.
“Would you like to stand on them, walk around, get your feet wet from the comfort of pure fine Italian leather?”
She stared down at him, lips barely parted, eyes narrowing in a sultry way. “I don’t think I can.”
His lips moved closer to her ear. “Tell me why not.”
“I can’t. It’s too embarrassing. Suppose your coworker comes out.”
“Then he’ll just have to see the same thing I do—a lovely young lady wearing a pair of red pumps that can make dicks rocket up to the sky.”
She slowly looked at the front of his pants and saw a protrusion she’d only dreamed of; she wanted to hold all hot, hard, nine-plus inches of him within her small warm hand. She knew he had to be at least nine inches from the looks of him. Any man that damn pretty had to have one the length of the Pacific, and just as deep.
His voice took control of her again. “I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”
“From what I can see, it’s more than enough to reach my Milky Way.” She stood and walked around the carpet, raising her pants legs above the knee. One step on the cushiony leather insole and she was hooked. Though she couldn’t determine if the feel was from the shoes themselves or the salesman. She wanted to think it was purely the shoes but knew a feeling like that came from only one source—a man so damn gorgeous that she failed to see straight. Hopefully she’d be able to walk without him knowing exactly how insane she was over the idea of him deeply inside her tight, sweet sex.
She bounced on her toes a bit and walked around a tad more, knowing his eyes were on how juicy her butt looked in those tight jeans. Tight jeans and a pair of heels always did it for a man, and knowing that was what made her wear her tightest jeans. She wanted his erection to cry out for her, squirm so hard within his pants that he’d bust completely out, find his way into her hands, and get sucked the rest of the afternoon. Only three problems with her plan: her mother, her sister and his coworker. She turned, walked back to him. “I like these. They’re hot!”
“Yes, ma’am, they certainly are.”
For Jason, watching Amber walk around nearly killed him. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning, and she had legs like a fashion model. The shoes weren’t doing it—it was all her. True, heels always accentuated the curve of a woman’s legs, but hers needed no help. She’d have looked perfect in sand-covered beach thongs as far as he was concerned. That was something else he wouldn’t mind seeing her in—bikini thongs, just bikini thongs, and nothing but that! Given where they were, he had to settle for the real and anything his imagination could allow. He let his mind to go crazy, along with his crotch, which, by the way, was an inch away from the stars.
“They do look incredible. Is there anything else I can do for you, Amber Marie Donohue? Because believe me, I can do a lot.”
“You’ve done enough.”
“Not really. You haven’t told me how it, I mean they, feel on you.”
“You really want to know?”
“Look at my pants again, beautiful.”
No more hesitation on her part; she couldn’t help but look at something she knew was tempting. He was large and thick. She could see that much through his pants. He definitely had everything her body ached for. Quickly she had to get her mind from how many inches she knew he had and return it to something sane—shoes. That idea worked all too briefly since she really couldn’t keep her mind from his pants. “They feel incredible, nice and snug, tight where they need to be, loose and languid everywhere else. I could have more and more of them.”
“I would love that. Sliding something warm and tight into you would be a man’s dream come true. Speaking of such, where’s your shop? I have lunch in an hour, and we could do more than eat.”
The idea of being his lunch, or at least eating with him, stirred feminine hormones like crazy. Then reality came back, and with a vengeance. “My mom and sister are here with me.”
“That could be sticky. Where’s the shop, anyway? Maybe I can come by late one night and slide something else onto that succulent body of yours.”
“What would you have in mind?”
He looked around at the empty store and the even emptier hallway in front of the store, then took her hand. With her small hand wrapped in his, he stood and smoothed it up and down a bulging zipper. He was on fire and was so ready for her to feel his heat, his desire. It felt so damn good as she laced her fingers around that tight, lengthy bulge, soothing its burning desire. Her hand found his juicy tip, delicately pinched it, feeling it quiver at her touch, massaging his contours, making him grow within her hand, a hand that could barely handle such a large shaft.
Had he not been the gentleman he was, he would have lost it, then and there. His other hand covered hers, pressing it harder yet gently against an erection that was climbing the damn walls. His voice lowered. “Feel good to you, sweetheart?”
She continued to feel his thickness, his mass, wanted to toy with it more, stretch it, taste it over and over again until she got him to cream. Her soft reply said it all. “It’s incredible.”
“Just incredible?”
“Juicy!”
“Getting closer. Keep going with those words, girl, ‘cause I love how it sounds.”
“Jason, if I told you what you were doing to my nerve endings, I’d embarrass you to tears.”
“I’ll cry for a sexy woman any day. Just say the word.”
Her legs became so weak from wanting him that she had to sit down. He met her on the floor, slowly bending on one knee due to the arousal between his thighs. He then remembered who he was and what he was supposed to be doing—selling shoes. “I hope I wasn’t too forward with you, Amber. I just get carried away in the presence of a diamond-studded queen.”
“Everything is perfect about you, Jason DeMaras, every single inch. And I love compliments, so keep them coming. I need them.”
He gazed into her eyes once more, wanting, wishing, hoping the store would go away and leave the two of them to disappear into a sexual haven, never to be disturbed again. However, the heavy clunking of a window-shopper’s shoes brought him back, though his eyes never left hers.
Amber was the one who had to clear the air. “I’d better have you get these to the register before you make me embarrass both of us, Mr. Jason.”
“I like how you said that. I’d love to be embarrassed by you. By the way, there isn’t a Mr. Donohue, is there? I forgot to ask you the other day.”
“No, there isn’t; not anymore. Maurice and I have been history for almost two years.”
“And no one else snatched you? Incredible.”
“I went through a period where I didn’t want to be snatched. Dealing with a breakup is hard on a girl’s heart.”
“What about being snatched now? Is that possible?”
“Could be. Depends on who the thief is.”
“Well, me?”
“I’m as good as stolen, then. But, first and foremost, is there a Mrs. Jason DeMaras?”
His eyes rolled in a bit of skepticism. “There was a Mrs. DeMaras, but we’re divorced. We recently got back together but didn’t renew our vows.” He saw the saddened look on her face and quickly jumped to the punch line. “I’m getting out of it again because it’s not working. I did it for the sake of my son, but some things are never meant to be. Then there are those that are.” He eyed her seductively.
“Are you sure?”
“Surer than sure.”
Amber reached into her purse and handed him her business card. “Take this and call me. Anytime.”
“Like tonight?”
“Like whenever.”
His smile lit the place again. “Cool.” Then he looked over at the unopened box of shoes. “The navy blue ones would look just as good on you. Wanna try them on?”
“I don’t think I’d survive it. You’re a heck of a salesman, and I’d walk out of here with way too many shoes I can’t afford.”
“You’ll survive it; take my word for it. And, no, I won’t let Amber go broke. You still haven’t told me where your store is, though.”
“Main and Fifteen Mile Road.”
“Just up the street, and a slip-slide away, beautiful. When can I come by?”
“When do you want to?”
“Tomorrow night, around eight?”
“Perfect. I’ll have the pictures ready, and a few other things.”
“Sounds like a hell of a plan. Pictures, though?”
“Yeah, you know. I told you I’d have pictures of the jewelry. Do you still want to show them off here?”
“Sure, they’re lovely. I was hoping the pictures would be of you, though, all hot and iced down, dripping wet for me.”
“I’m already dripping wet for you. As we speak, my panties are jacked…sliding across a slick crotch! You did that just by touching me.”
“I’d love to do more than that.”
“You may just get that chance. You’d have to take those pictures, though.”
“Gladly, and if you think your panties are jacked, I have to get rid of a hard-on. Care to help with that?”
“I’d love to.”
“Really?”
“If you’re anything like what I felt a minute ago, I’d be crazy not to take advantage of an offer like that, but what would you think of me?”
“I’d think you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
At that, he slid the pumps from her feet, gently tickled the underside of her perfectly painted pink toes, and enjoyed her squirming. “I like how you move, would love to see more of that.”
“I just can’t believe you think I’m pretty.”
“I didn’t say you were pretty. I said you were beautiful, and I’d like to see if it covers the entire range.”
Malcolm stepped from the back. “Think you can handle the store a while I get coffee? Inventory is hell, man.”
That lit both Jason and Amber’s eyes. Jason barely got to his feet due to the pressure in his pants. “Sure, man. It’s your break time, anyway.”
They watched Malcolm leave; then Jason took her hand. “What time is your mother due to come in?”
“Don’t worry about them. Kitchen utensils are what they live for, though neither can boil an egg. Go figure.”
“I’d rather steal a minute or two in the back corner with you. Care to indulge me?” He took her hand into his and pulled her along. “Don’t worry; it’s all good, and your reputation will be spotless. Trust me.”
Being pulled into Jason’s lair was the only thing Amber cared about. Screw reputations. What she wanted was a good screw. Before she could say a word, his lips delicately tasted hers, nibbling at first, then becoming more forceful. The feel of her lips against his tongue teased him, pulled him in directions he hadn’t been in all of his thirty years of living and loving. This was loving and living, everything he had been denied until Amber Marie walked into his store and set his pants on fire.
He pressed her wriggling body into his, feeling her, kissing soft-as-a-petal skin and relishing in it. Her breasts meshed against his body so seductively, making his erection seemingly span miles, and all he wanted was her hands around it, stroking it much the way she was kissing his lips.
Amber never knew a man could make her so hungry. That’s what she was—hungry for him, hungry for his thick cock to press up against her pliable body. Her hips rocked with his, feeling white fire raging between her thighs the more he squeezed her behind. The more he stroked her, the more wild and ravenous she became kissing him. Had anything ever tasted that good to her? Was anything allowed to taste like that without being illegal? The fuck she knew, all she wanted was more of what she was getting.
Their hips rocked in unison as Jason pressed her into the wall, touching and squeezing everything he could get his hands on. And when he slid his fingers between her legs, she gladly parted, letting him rub the jeans material against an already electrified clit. He stroked her like they were actually making it. Amber wondered why he should have all the fun. One hand found his zipper and rubbed it until the metal burned her skin; then she slid the zipper down. She reached inside. There it was! He was so hot and hard, so ready to be sucked dry. She reached within his underwear and fondled what she thought she’d never have the chance to really see and feel.
He parted from her by barely inches to let her see what she had unearthed. There he stood to her, a tip so smooth and soft, glistening with droplets of joy. Her hands surrounded him, jerked him vigorously up and down as he watched. She wanted to taste it so bad, have it fill her mouth and stroke her throat until he gave, but with her luck, someone would walk in and interrupt. It would kill her having to pull away from a cock that beautiful, stiff, and full of semen. Besides, he’d lose his job. Couldn’t have that, so she settled for getting him off with an erotic hand job.
She continued kissing his lips until her own were swollen, and she continued laying it on thick between his thighs. She pumped that delicious weapon until he felt the rush coming. He grabbed a few sheets of tissue and prepared himself for what would soon erupt. And as he spilled into the tissue, his frantic hands stroked the inside seam of her now wet jeans. “God, this is incredible, Amber. I didn’t know anyone could make me spill like this. Is it good for you, girl?”
She couldn’t speak until her own monstrous orgasm stopped rattling her body. Once her fitful body calmed, she smiled into his satisfied face. “My God, it was everything I wanted it to be; it was just over too soon.”
“I can take care of that as soon as you let me.”
She cleaned his still-hard member and tried zipping his pants but needed his help. In another minute, they looked respectable again. But before she could give him a definite time, the entrance bell chimed and in stepped her mother and sister. Perfect timing.
She could always count on her mother to be gauche and disgusting.
“There’s my baby.” She looked over at Jason holding the shoeboxes. “Did my little girl make you take out all your goodies?”
“Yes, she did, but I didn’t mind a bit.” The goodies she was talking about and the goodies he delivered were two entirely different things. But he kept his mouth shut.
Mrs. Donohue rambled on. “She’s definitely a shoe connoisseur.”
Amber stopped her mother before Jason was turned off, making him wonder if she’d be the same way in thirty years. “I’m buying the red pair, Mother, and, no, I didn’t make him take out his goodies.” Not all of them; just the best one.
Geneva sat next to her, lowering her voice. “Girl, his ass is fine. You need to jump on that.”
Amber smiled at Jason as he walked away with the boxes. “What makes you think I haven’t?”