by May Sage
“This one. It’s a winner.”
“You think? I like it, but I thought it might be a little too short.”
Lexi’s skirts generally were a little longer. Tori hadn’t questioned it, but now she wondered if it was to ensure Lexi’s very naughty underwear remained covered under any circumstances; she couldn’t afford a wardrobe malfunction in that sort of get up.
“No, it’s barely an inch above the knee, you’re good.” Then, out of the blue, without any reason, she said it. The thing which changed her life. It had seemed innocent enough at the time; just a bit of harmless fun. “Hey, you think you could show me where you get your lingerie? I’m intrigued.”
She wasn’t sure she’d have the guts to wear anything as daring as Lexi, and if she did, it wouldn’t be at work. Still, her friend said it made her feel powerful. Tori had plenty of wool suits to intimidate those who would otherwise refuse to take her seriously at work; but, if her dry spell was any indication, she could do with a bit of feminine magic mojo.
They caught a taxi down to Madison Avenue and she let Lexi lead her to a lush, dimly lit store. Her jaw fell when she walked in, and she stayed as stunned all the way through their visit.
It almost felt indecent, being here; like she was caught inside a kinky sex toy shop in the middle of the day. But, after shyly glancing around her, and finding a bunch of normal people going about their business, she realized how silly she was.
This was just underwear shopping. Nothing more. And sure, there were a few ensembles that really made her blush, like what Lexi had been wearing. But most of the sets on display were just an upgrade on what she saw in regular stores.
Absentmindedly, she touched a pretty, nude bra, and she found herself almost caressing it, taken aback by the softness under her fingertips.
Tori went through the hangers to find her size.
“You know, no one is actually a 34B. No one.”
Tori frowned. “That’s what I wear.”
Lexi rolled her eyes. “Yep, you and basically everyone out there. But as you’re a size four, I doubt your bust is actually thirty-four inches. Let me see if someone can get you fitted properly.”
The assistant was on her turf now, and it showed. The sales clerks seemed to recognize her, and were more than happy to drop what they were doing to give her a hand.
Tori glanced at her watch, and saw that they still had thirty-five minutes. Oh, well. In for a penny…
Lexi was right. These lingerie brands that cost three times as much as what she usually purchased were really comfortable. Even the more skimpy, provocative designs felt like heaven. The lush, soft material hugged her in a way no underwear she’d ever worn did. And wearing the right size? That was an eye opener. No way could she go back now, she’d seen the light. Although, her newly purchased bras made her boobs look downright obscene. She wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Tori bought a bunch of stuff that day; completely spoiled by actually getting some support on her bust, she knew she had to replace her entire underwear collection. “Your ideal fit is a 30DD,” her fitter had told her, a tape measure in hand. “We don’t go down lower than 32, but good news: you can go up to 32 as long as you go down a cup size. The three sets of clips at the back help with that. So, 32D. You’ll also be able to go down to 28E.”
She’d nodded along, all the while smiling like a crazy person because her bra actually contained her all boobs; no weird under-the-arm double boobie.
Thankfully for her wallet, she didn’t have the time to buy everything from Agent Provocateur.
Her shopping bag included black lace, tulle, rose-gold embroidery, and velvet brocade, all carefully wrapped in dark paper.
After work, she checked her personal email and found that Lexi had sent her a link.
This is my fav brand - it’s a little more affordable than a lot of places, and the quality is just amazing. Check it out!
So, she spent her evening with a bottle of wine and her computer, buying more lingerie.
Her favorite new set was a baby pink satin set with hot pants zipped at the back and a demi-cup bra with foil lace layered in.
She was pretty sure that if she hadn’t been wearing the perfectly tailored, deliciously decadent ensemble on Friday night, she would never have caught Bryant Croft’s eye.
So there. It was all Lexi’s fault.
The Circle
There was probably about a million things Bryant would have preferred to do on a Friday night in New York City, but he’d accepted his brother’s offer. He was weeks away from taking the reins of Croft Industry. Might as well show his face and kiss asses.
Funny, but he actually hadn’t counted on her being there. He should have. But when James had told him to pop by his company party before he left town, to get the feel of the people he’d soon work with, he hadn’t mentioned Tori; not even to warn him to stay away again.
Recalling what James had said regarding the woman’s relationship with the rest of the employees, he’d figured socializing with them would be pretty low on the list of things she might have wanted to do on a Friday evening, but he’d underestimated her. Victoria Brown was apparently not one to hide.
She was the first thing he saw when he walked in. Why? He’d never know. James could definitely throw a party; he’d booked a popular club, closing it off to anyone who wasn’t on his approved list. There was plenty to catch a man’s attention: the scantily dressed women moving on the dancefloor, the catwalk models in miniskirts who held platters with flutes of champagne, the bartenders flaring for show. In the midst of all that, the way Tori beckoned him was eerie. Her back was facing him at first, but she called to him nonetheless.
Alright, not that surprising; her ass was all kinds of perfect, and that tight little black dress would have taunted a saint.
Bryant grabbed a drink off a platter and headed to James, his eyes trailing Tori as she laughed with a shorter blonde.
He recalled he had a thing for blondes, all the while acknowledging that Tori’s fetching friend did nothing for him tonight. He was entirely focused on the brunette. And, nope, he had no explanation for that either. The blonde was just his type.
“You know, I distinctly recall saying not that one. Twice, in fact. Come on, she has personal ties with the current CEO; the last thing she needs is the new CEO chasing her skirt.”
Bryant sighed. Good point. He forced himself to look away, redirecting his attention to his brother.
“Decent party.”
James had invited a flock of important people, some of whom Bryant recognized. Models, actors, business owners, heirs of fortunes.
By the time Bryant had downed the contents of his first flute, Carter Harris and the notorious Trick walked in with their dates. To his surprise, unlike everyone else, who’d directly headed towards them to greet James, they walked to the open bar, and stopped around Tori.
Carter’s date hugged the object of Bryant’s fancy, and Tori then cheek-kissed the redhead holding Trick’s arm. Soon after, Bennet McFinley and his partner made an entrance, before following the same path, favoring Tori’s company to theirs.
Bryant groaned. Everyone he wanted to talk to was on the other side of the room.
He didn’t know the crowd intimately, but they ran in the same circle, and, more importantly, they belonged to the same generation. That meant that, even though Bryant had been based in London, they had an understanding. When they came across each other, be it tanning in the Caribbean or Hawaii, or skiing in Switzerland, they acknowledged each other, and hung out together when they could.
Right now, the small group was laughing, toasting, and obviously having a good time, while Bryant shook the hand of yet another boring old fart.
Fuck this shit.
A few long, determined steps, and he was standing right next to Tori Brown.
From up close, he had to admit that her large eyes, and their endless lashes, had more power than he’d anticipated. Bloody hell! And that mouth. It was pai
nted dark purple again, because she obviously liked to drive men insane.
He wanted to kiss it, bite it. He wanted it wrapped around his dick as he fucked it. But as none of that was on the cards just yet, considering the public venue, he just shot her a smile, before turning to their common friends.
“Bryant Bloody Parker.”
Bennet was the first to greet him, but the others shortly joined him, welcoming him with open arms, like he knew they would. They then shocked the hell out of him by introducing him to their other halves. They weren’t just there with random dates: his three acquaintances actually had steady partners, women they lived with. The bloody lot of them had paired up, just like ninety percent of his friends.
God, he was getting old.
“This is my girlfriend, Piper; Trick’s fiancée, Lucy; Carter’s fiancée, Cassie; and her friend, Victoria.”
“Tori,” the brunette immediately corrected. A delicious blush flushed her cheeks as she glanced up at him. “Victoria is my grandmother’s name. And here’s my friend, Lexi,” she pointed to the blonde.
“Now’s probably a good time to admit that the likelihood of me recalling any of these names is pretty grim. Therefore, you will excuse me if I call you all ‘luv’ from now on.”
He wasn’t joking; he rarely remembered names, when he didn’t need to know them for business purposes.
Trick’s woman blinked. “A British accent. He has a British accent.” Then, she turned to her man and pouted. “Why don’t you have one of those?”
“You can call me whatever you’d like,” said Bennet’s girlfriend. “Just keep talking.”
The finance guru sighed. “And I’d forgotten why I hate that guy.”
“Hate is a strong word,” Carter remarked. “It would be more accurate to call it a minor aversion.”
“You’re saying that because your woman isn’t shamelessly drooling at him.”
And, of course, Carter’s fiancée then clarified, “I’m just taking mental notes so I can write a male hero after him. He’d be an awesome protagonist. Maybe some sort of werewolf.”
Carter put on a fake smile, “Sorry, when did you say you were leaving, Parker?”
Bryant took it all with good humor, knowing the guys meant nothing by it. The banter was the reason why he was more comfortable with them than with the graying folks converged around James.
“I’m actually going to hang around for a couple of days.” He added nothing about coming back; he’d call them to let them know, and ask about things like what part of town he should move in to, but now was hardly the time or place to talk real estate investments.
“Where are you from?” Tori asked him, for which he was grateful; he now had a valid reason to stare into those deep brown eyes.
“I was actually born in Vegas, but I grew up in London.”
“Lucky you. I’ve never been to England.”
“You should visit, some day. London is the most enchanting English-speaking city in the world.”
“Debatable,” she shot back, although she’d just admitted to never seeing it. She shrugged at his bafflement. “I’m an NYC gal. I have to say that.”
She had a cheeky grin that lit her up.
Bryant took one step closer to her, and leaned on the bar. “Right, so you guys have skyscrapers, and a lot of hot dog stands. London is vibrant, full of history, and…”
“Has a lot of fish and chips shops?” she offered.
He smiled. “Alright. We have Buckingham Palace.”
“Central Park.”
“The Tower of London.”
“The Empire State Building.”
“London Eye.”
“Do you have to use London in every one of your landmarks to make sure people really know where they are? Fine. Times Square.”
“The Big Ben.”
“The Met.”
“Are we actually going there? Museums? That’s just you admitting to losing. We have so many renowned museums I could spend all day naming them. But let’s just say the Victoria and Albert trumps the Met, and move on.”
“Highly debatable.”
“Says no one ever. We have, like,” he had to think, as he hadn’t stepped foot in the V&A for half a decade. “Clothes.”
“And we have an Egyptian temple.”
He had to wince. Now, his argument fell somewhat short, all things considered. Unwilling to lose any game, he was going to save face, when Bennet interrupted them.
“Hey, guys, we have to say hi to James and dash. Our little girl has ballet practice in the morning.”
Their little girl? Bloody hell, McFinnley also had a kid? And one old enough to practice ballet, at that. What had happened to the world, dammit!
“Nice seeing you, Tori. How long are you here for, Parker?”
“Until Sunday. Then, back to London.”
For a fortnight, in any case. After he’d shut down the house and sorted his law firm out, he’d come back.
He had five cases on his lap, all of which could be delegated; but he still needed to hire someone new to replace him, and put his affairs in order. The next two weeks were going to be intense, to say the least.
“Right. I don’t think we’ll come across again for a while, then. You take care.”
“You, too, mate.”
They shook hands. After they’d gone, Bryant noticed that his distance to the rest of the group had increased quite a bit, now he stood alone with Tori. The others could still hear them with some effort, but they’d given them space. Which meant they’d felt the crazy chemistry between Tori and him.
It was wild, sizzling, and entirely unexpected. Finding someone attractive wasn’t the same as clicking that way. In fact, while Bryant had worked his way around quite a few pretty girls, he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such an intense, explosive pull towards anyone before her.
And he wanted, needed, to explore it.
So, instead of beating around the bush, he just asked, “Wanna get out of here?”
On The Way
Tori was entirely taken aback, because she hadn’t thought that the hottest guy she’d ever seen would be interested in her, not really. They were chatting together, it was nice and friendly, but she’d believed they’d part ways within a few minutes. Now he wanted to get out of here. Code for something hot, hard, and sweaty between the sheets. With her.
Her nipples hardened, ready to party. Hell, yes! She wouldn’t normally have considered it with a guy she’d met at an office party, but she’d never seen him at the office. Besides, even if he was somehow related to Croft Advertising, he lived all the way over there, on the other side of the pond. And if there was anyone worth bending the rules for, this Adonis qualified.
Tori bit her lip, finding it hard to talk. She wasn’t generally that self-conscious, perfectly aware of what she looked like. She was pretty enough, even really pretty on a good day, when her hair behaved and she bothered properly applying makeup, rather than just slapping on some lipstick and calling it a day. She stayed fit, but her love of fast-food in general, and pizza in particular, ensured that she kept some curves. It worked for her, making her figure sexier than it would have been without the soft spots. Her mother had put the entire household under a strict diet in her teens, and she remembered how thin she’d been then. Hail to dairy and gluten.
So, yeah, it wasn’t the first time a guy hit on her. Still, she didn’t normally attract movie-star material. She gulped. Her pussy pulsed, and she could practically hear her clit sing the hallelujah chorus. He exuded raw sensuality, the kind that promised orgasms on tap.
The Brit, with his dark wavy hair, his hazel eyes, and his goddamned dimples, was hands down the sexiest man she’d come across in her life. There was a reason her friends, although they were paired with attractive, successful, and visibly loving companions, had all gushed over him. He was that guy. The one everyone looked at when he entered a room. And he wanted her. Possibly. Maybe.
“Or not. I won’t be offended if you’
re taken. Or simply not interested.”
She shook her head, before he changed his mind.
“No, I-” she croaked. “I’m… interested.”
Bryant got closer to her, crowding her space. Goddamn hell, he even smelled good. “You’re sure, luv?”
Yep. She was milking her panties.
She nodded vigorously. “Very, very sure.”
After three years of abstinence, and, before that, all the Jimmies of the world, she goddamned deserved one night with a foreign sex symbol.
“Good.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, not caring about the fact that she was going to combust right there. How could he even smell sexy? That shouldn’t be a thing. “We’d better get going before the whole office sees us.”
She didn’t have a reason to think that sounded strange. In a few weeks, she would know exactly what the jerk had meant.
The journey from the club hosting their office party to his place was pretty fuzzy in her mind.
She recalled vaguely thinking that she was quite safe, as her friends knew who she’d left with. They’d called him… Parker? Something like that. It didn’t matter. What mattered was his hands caressing her thighs, slowly pushing up her dress as she straddled him. The poor cabby was getting a show, but she couldn’t stop herself. She felt his dick harden under her, and her hips moved, grinding against him.
Parker groaned, his lips descending on her throat and sucking at it as she gasped.
“You taste like candy,” he breathed on her sensitive skin, his hand becoming bolder yet, entirely pushing her dress up to her waist, exposing her. “Your pussy is going to be so, so sweet. Can’t wait to eat it out.”
An unintelligible cry came out of her lips as two of his fingers pushed past her hot-pants, and plunged right into her soaked folds, curving inside her to tease her in the most maddening way.
“The cabbie…”
“Is enjoying the show,” he told her. “I bet he’s just as hard as me, sweetheart. How does that make you feel?”
