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Having a real man like Brandon looking at me like this, I’m not sure how to take it.
Not sure how a soon to be married man could or even would have that look in his eye.
I’m no expert, but I know the look. I’ve read about it anyway, seen it in movies. Even though I’ve never been on the receiving end of it.
Maybe he has a wonky eye?
His low groan of satisfaction as I turn to face him, holding up a jacket tells me his eyes are fine.
For some reason, for whatever reason, he seems to have taken a shine to me.
I can assure him that the feeling is mutual.
If only I could stop trembling so much. If only I could put two sensible words together.
My hands shake so bad as I offer to help him into a jacket that he grips both of them by the wrists in his, making me jump with a start.
“Nervous Ashlee, or just cold?” he says in a firm tone, his eyes moving to my breasts as he takes in my rivet nipples one more time. His lips shameless as they curl into a broad, greedy smile.
A perfect smile with two rows of gleaming white, perfect teeth.
I shiver at his words, but more from his touch. His grip on my wrists is gentle, but the shockwaves pulsing through my body from his grip are devastating.
I only manage a small squeak, my legs pressing together again as I fight to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head.
I want him to touch more than my wrists, want him to hold them behind my back as he fills me with what I know he has in the front of his pants.
What am I thinking? Get a grip Ash.
What this man is doing to me is unbelievable. It’s… It’s unnatural.
It’s like a spell, I can’t break.
I try to move my wrists back, but it’s useless. I don’t want him to let go and he’s not going to anyway.
He leans in closer, his lips brushing my hair as they almost touch my ear.
“When do you get off?” he asks, making me let out a little whimper that makes him smile.
His grip on me relaxing as he sits himself down in a chair, adjusting what I can see now is not my imagination at the front of his pants.
He means it too, and cocks a brow, waiting for an answer.
“Well?” he asks again.
“I… I live upstairs,” I stammer. “I guess I’m always here. Never really finishing, always doing something,” I hear myself tell him, sure the dampness between my legs must be showing through my jeans by now.
My heart is beating so fast against my ribs it feels like it’ll burst through my chest if this goes on much longer.
“You’re getting married.” I hear myself say, almost sure it conveys all the disappointment I feel about that, even though I’m really trying to warn him about his behavior.
Anyone else, I’d have told Mark to deal with them.
Staring at my chest, ogling my ass, and now grabbing me by the wrists asking me when I get of…
Jesus, I’m about to come in my pants just talking to him, feeling him this close.
But he’s not anybody else.
He’s Brandon, and whether I like it or not, he’s got more on his mind than a wedding suit, I can just tell.
He frowns, making a face before grinning again.
“Am I?” he finally says cryptically, a light going on in his eyes that burns brighter and harder than ever.
Chapter Four
Brandon
So she thinks it’s me who’s getting married?
Might explain why she’s so uneasy about me showing an interest. Or maybe it’s not every day she has a man shamelessly showcase his aching hard on for her.
Unless she’s already spoken for?
That’s not a thought I like, and I quickly push it to the back of my mind.
Ashlee and Brandon. That’s how I want things from now on. That’s how it has to be.
Fitting the suit. Fitting myself into her. Fitting the two of us together. That’s all.
Before I have the chance, or even the desire to explain myself, Mark the tailor reappears just as I let her wrists drop from my hands.
Already missing the feeling of her.
Already hungry for more than just her wrists.
More than just the view of her breasts.
Needing to feel more of her now.
Needing to fill her with my seed.
Putting those hips to good use. Watching her face as she comes hard on my cock. My hands squeezing those tits so she feels me everywhere.
All over her. Inside her.
That face I wanna see her make, over and over again when I make her mine.
“Everything alright?” Mark asks, meaning the jacket I’m almost bursting out of, but even he must sense there’s something else going on.
Jesus, I’m surprised the building hasn’t exploded, or the whole city’s energy grid hasn’t overloaded.
