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Before I even turn around, I feel those eyes on me again.
Those same eyes.
It’s him, I know it is. I don’t know how, but I just freaking know it.
The sudden wet line in my panties should be enough, but there’s something in his voice, his cologne.
And then he lets out a muted laugh, talking quietly with old Bill.
It’s him, I just know it is.
A part of me wants to spin rather than turn. To run into his arms and just have him scoop me up.
But I have no idea what he looks like, so I restrain myself as much as I can.
Once his huge hazel eyes hit mine though, I feel weak in the knees.
I know it’s him, and his look of recognition is enough for me to know it’s the same man, the same eyes I felt in the changing room.
And my God, what a man.
He must be six seven, built like a linebacker, the V-shaped wedge of his torso bristling through a very expensive looking suit.
His smoldering eyes dance as he smiles, revealing a perfect set of gleaming teeth set in a chiseled, David-esque jaw that’s as smooth shaven as he is sharp.
His thick dark hair has a sheen of silver at the sides, but only in a certain light.
His strong features soften though once he focuses on me, and I know his smile is meant for me.
My eyes move down in embarrassment, but freeze once they spy the thick line he’s sporting in those pants.
Must be the light.
He casually moves his huge hands to cover his front and pretending to lean in closer, listening to Bill, I’m sure he gives me the subtlest wink as he squeezes his front.
I feel my heart in my throat, the room start to sway, and suddenly I can’t feel my legs.
My mouth’s suddenly dry and once I hear Clara ask me something, I can only croak.
More like a moan.
Moaning for the other end of me that’s suddenly sprung a leak.
“Ah, Lucian’s here. I may as well introduce you,” she says absently, clasping my arm and gravitating me towards him.
Making me feel like a small moon about to be eclipsed by the Sun God himself.
The God of all men.
It feels like she’s half-carrying me over, but the thick line of wet in my panties is what’s really pulling me closer, I know it.
Aching to get a better view of what the man has in the front of his suit trousers.
But his cover is good, and his presence as I get closer, undeniable.
He’s murmuring something to Bill about him filling in when he looks up at me again, suddenly making me feel small and very, very nervous.
“Lucian, this is Carol. Filled in at short notice too. Look, can I-” she adds suddenly, her whole body turning away from us.
Lucian.
What an extraordinary name. Fitting for an extraordinary man.
He waves her away, and Bill too by the looks, zooming in on me with those dark eyes and a deep inhalation that makes me feel he’s actually eating me alive.
My God, I feel like I’m about to-
“Come!” he announces suddenly, taking my arm in his and leading me away, ignoring the others as we make our way out into the shopping mall, which is half as busy as it has seemed all day.
“Let’s get you out of here, you must be sick of this place.”
He pulls me close to him as we walk, and I can feel his body through his clothes.
Rock hard but with enough give to make me shiver at the thought of touching his naked flesh, tracing my fingers around each muscle I know is flexing underneath without him even trying.
“Bill tells me you did a great job,” he says, deliberately looking away but letting his huge hand grip mine as we walk.
“Are you the… manager?” I hear myself squeak, feeling like I’m nine, not twenty-two.
He chuckles softly, stopping long enough to look down as he breathes in deep again.
“You, uh could say that,” he says, smiling swiftly before resuming our little walk.
I feel my nerves flare, but I can’t help notice despite his swagger, he seems a little flighty himself.
Maybe we both need to eat something.
But hang on. What’s the manager suddenly doing walking around with me on his arm?
This guy could have any girl he wants.
Maybe it’s to make up for the crap all paycheck I’m probably gonna miss cashing.
I groan before apologizing, telling him I was just about to cash my check.
And use the ladies’ room.
But he waves his hand again as if none of that matters.
After a few more yards, I spy the ladies room sign, triggering a different urge in me.
“Can I at least go to the bathroom?” I ask, not meaning to sound ungrateful, but also wondering if that’s the ‘I’m about to burst’ feeling explained in one second.
