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After a couple of minutes, she swept the curtain aside and stepped out wearing the green blouse.
She raised her hands and turned around. "What do you think?"
What did I think? I wasn't sure I could think. My brain was mushy and my mouth was dry. My cock was trying his best to spring to attention in my jeans.
"I—" My voice squeaked. I tried again. "I think that looks very nice."
Nice? She looked better than nice. She looked hotter than hell.
The blouse fit her like a glove. It clung to her curves and accentuated her breasts. The hem of the fabric sat at her hips like it was made for her.
She looked slightly disappointed.
"I mean, it looks amazing." There, that was a better word for her. Gorgeous, stunning, incredible. A few more came to mind, but those would do for starters. I didn't dare to say any of them. I just smiled and hoped I hadn't screwed up somehow.
She smiled back. "I'll take amazing." After a moment she added, "I'll try on the black one."
I managed to squeak out, "Okay." Shit, I sounded like a guy whose balls hadn’t dropped. For the record, they had, they just liked what I saw, that was all.
She smiled at me over her shoulder before she disappeared back into the fitting room. The curtain felt shut again.
If the green one looked incredible, the black blouse left me weaker than if I was tackled by a seven foot high, seven foot wide opponent. Seven times. What? Seven is an unlucky number for me.
"I, um, well. Wow," I stammered. "That looks, that looks, yeah."
"I think that means you like it?" She looked at me intently with her intense blue eyes. She didn't seem like the sort of woman who really cared about what other people thought, but for some reason she seemed to care what I thought.
"I mean, personally, I think you should buy both of them," I said with a giddy nod.
I'd happily buy both of them for her, if I thought she'd let me. I could afford it, but I had a feeling that even offering would be the mother of all screw ups.
I added, "But if I had to choose I'd choose the black one."
"You know," she said slowly, "if anyone else said that, I'd pick the other one." She lifted her chin and locked her gaze on mine. "For some reason, I don't want to do that with you." She had a wicked glint in her eyes. "I do want to do other things with you."
Was my face on fire? It felt like it.
She lightly rested a hand on my arm.
Her touch made my knees weak.
"I shouldn't be saying stuff like that here," she said. "You might get into trouble. Or I might."
"I won't tell if you won't," I managed to say.
She took her hand from my arm and a finger to her lips. "No one will hear it from me."
I immediately wished she'd put her hand back where it was. The skin under my shirt was on fire. I half expected to see smoke and flames arising from the cotton.
"Maybe we could, I don’t know, go and get something to eat?" I asked. "I mean, after you've finished deciding which blouse you’re going to buy. If either."
She glanced around. "Are you allowed to do that? Ask customers out, I mean."
"Am I—oh, right. Sure. I mean, we’re both adults. We can do what we want." And honestly, if I did work here, I'd quit to get a date with her.
She flashed a smile. "Great, in that case I’d love to." She hesitated for a moment. "I should probably get changed back into my other clothes. It wouldn’t be a very good start if I got arrested for shoplifting." The cheeky smile she gave me showed the dimple in her cheek.
"I'd be right there next to you," I said. "As an accessory to shoplifting."
