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Won't Make It Easy Ch. 01

By: VintageVixxxen



It had been a hell of a night. So horrendous, it had nowhere to go but up. But right now, Amara only wanted to see the bottom of her second madras cocktail to render the buzz needed to decompress.

She ran her own boutique shop, which was usually a smooth operation. However, tonight, her new sales girl was unable to reconcile the closing paperwork and had inadvertently set off the store alarm on her way out numerous times last week. Amara had reluctantly hired the girl only because of her eager can-do attitude, but she was no replacement for Shelly, whom Amara lost to maternity leave.

The shop was small enough that it only required Amara and one other person to relieve her, if needed. In any case, Amara was always willing to spend the six days out of the week the store was open devoted to her 'baby', her business. Lately, she found herself doing more at the shop than her usual managerial/owner tasks, and it was going on Nina's third month. Her nerves were wearing thin, and the satisfaction that she usually derived from a hard day's work was rapidly dwindling.

Such thoughts had been mulling around in Amara's mind since she flicked the switched to the neon 'Closed' sign on her shop door. She had sent Nina home ahead of her. Amara would figure the shit out in the morning.

Tonight, there was relief in knowing she had the freedom to indulge a bit since she kept the shop closed on Sundays. She found herself at 'Votives' on nights like this. True, a glass of wine in the jacuzzi tub at home would be nice, but every now and then the swank red velvet atmosphere of her favorite bar and lounge yielded a comforting escapism.

It was a secluded enough place that she knew she wouldn't be bothered if she didn't want, but a classy enough place to meet someone if she was feeling social. They kept the lights dim there, and keeping to its namesake, there was a simple votive candle arrangement at each of the scarlet covered booths. It was like a scene from her favorite show, 'Mad Men'. Intimate and sexy, down tempo tunes seemed to linger in the air, emanating from an unknown source.

"8 ball, corner pocket," Nathan called out his winning shot at the pool table across from the bar. Shoulda put some money on the fucking game he thought. But then again, he was just blowing off steam with a buddy on a Saturday night. A bet could have made things too serious.

"Damn, they don't believe in light bulbs here do they?" Nathan mused more to himself than anybody as he air targeted his game winning move.

"Fuckhead, the place is called 'Votives', not 'Spotlight'. Besides, lighting didn't handicap your ass from beating mine", Cooper added "this one isolated occasion." He got a kick out of busting Nathan's balls.

"Awww...don't start getting your panties in a knot. I'm in a charitable mood. I'll buy the loser a drink. What'll be, Coop?" Nathan teased in a lisp tone, "a white wine ssssspritzer?"

"No, bitch, that's your drink of choice,"Cooper said mockingly, "---Jack on the rocks."

Nathan propped his pool stick into the holding rack on the wall but not before swatting it towards Cooper as if wielding a bat. Cooper, who had been eying a slender blonde was caught off guard.

"That's two for flinching, fucker." Nathan punched Cooper's shoulder twice in quick succession, pointing his finger admonishingly at Coop's nose. "Tits and a skirt are your downfall, man."

"So you're the pot and I'm the kettle, right?" Coop retorted.

"Whatever, douche bag." Nathan smirked on the way to the bar. As much as he didn't want to admit it, his friend had a point. Nathan's break up was the whole reason they were there. A game of pool and a mind obliterating amount of whiskey was somewhat of a band aid to the open wound Carrie left on his heart.

Finding his girlfriend home early from her late night college accounting class was one thing. Finding her home at her place early with the maintenance guy's dick in her was something different.

When Nathan requested his drink order from the bartender, he was still in an oblivion haze of frustration and pent up rage from the series of events with Carrie. He had just been glancing at the UFC fight on the wall mounted flat screen, looking for distraction from his bleak thoughts, when he began observing the silhouette of a woman about three bar stools down the row from him.

From his angle of view, he could see that she had long, wild dark chocolate curly hair accented with golden highlights, a petite upturned nose, and full pouty lips that rivaled Angelina's. Her skin was like honey. She wore a snug fitting white blouse and a black skirt with a side split high enough to reveal enough smooth caramel thigh to distract the pope.

It was sort of exhilarating to watch the mystery beauty without her knowing. Nathan had a slight streak of voyeur but damn, who didn't or else what kept the porn companies in business? Nathan started to get turned on at the sight of the gorgeous woman, now untucking her blouse from the waist of her skirt, getting comfortable. 

Apparently, she planned to hang for a while. So Nathan took his time, waiting out moments to see if the mystery woman had a male companion. But what man in his right mind would leave HER alone??? Nathan's eyes scanned her left hand from the short distance between them. No ring. But that wasn't much relief. In as scandalous a place as Vegas, men and women alike went out sans wedding bands. Hell, it wasn't called 'Sin City' for nothing.

Nathan decided he had bided his time long enough. It was beginning to become a torturous curiosity, the fact that he did not see her fully. Fully naked and crawling towards him on top of the pool table would be nice, but for now a face on meeting would have to do.

Nathan knew how to hold his shit together when it came to women, but this would be a balls-to-the-wall challenge. He approached her.

As if sensing his presence before seeing him, Amara tilted herself to the left on the tall bar stool, hitting Nathan right between the eyes with a smoldering look from her slanted cat like eyes. She reminded him of a young black version of Sophia Loren.

To hell with Helen of Troy! This girl was fucking breath taking, erection inducing. This was the face that could launch a thousand dicks. Sideways, front forward, whatever, this woman was a detonated sex bomb.

She almost robbed his vocal cords of the sound needed to speak. He did NOT want to risk a chirping Peter Brady type incident, so he cleared his throat before he spoke. "I hope your night has improved," Nathan spoke sincerely.

Questioning puzzlement crossed her features. Taking the comment at face value, she nodded slightly, "Thanks, it has. But what made you assume it needed improvement?"

"Well, you obviously came here after a hard night at work," his eyes slowly perused and paused at each feminine curve as if gesturing her attire. "...and you seemed to have placed a sort of invisible 'do not disturb' sign on yourself."

She giggled at that. "Well then, I guess my sign wasn't very effective now was it?"

"Maybe it was to most, but I'm not most people, so I took my chance," he lowered his voice, "and look, it paid off."

"So it seems." Amara was used to all kinds of men flirting with her---young, old, black, white, latin, almost anyone of the male gender imaginable. Usually they came on very cocky, talking down to her as if they already knew they could fuck her and leave her. Or, alternately, they were extremely intimidated by her. This guy didn't seem so usual at all.

His eyes were hazel green, glittered with wit and intelligence, and framed by masculine groomed brows. An aquiline nose, well shaped lips, hair sable brown and close cut. Skin fairly pale, but had the slightest tint of olive to it. Broad shoulders complimented a toned, athletic frame. Nice, very nice, Amara concluded mentally.

Just then, with lousy timing, Nathan spotted Cooper making his way from the semi-enclosed billiard area.

"Jesus, Nate, did you go to fucking Tennessee to ferment the shit yourself?" 

Amara giggled. Nathan laughed a bit uncomfortably, waiting for Coop to catch on to the fact that his presence was unwelcomed at the moment. It was as if Nathan silently willed Cooper to see that he was trying to speak with--- damn! he didn't even know her name.

Cooper did a double take when he saw the beautiful female who had snickered at his comment. He introduced himself to cover his stunned reaction. "Fuck, I'm sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. I'm Cooper, Nathan's friend." Cooper went to shake hands with the vixen.

"I'm Amara," she said while placing her delicate hand in Coop's. 

Nate felt a pang of jealousy that the siren gave her name to Cooper first. Shit, he was jealous Coop even touched her hand.

"Damn, Nate, if I were you I would have forgotten my drink too." Cooper said it almost low enough for just Nathan to hear. "Well," Coop slapped Nate's back in friendly gesture as he announced "I'm out, bro. I'm fucking beat. Later."

"Still up for the court tomorrow?" Nate asked.

"Sure, but will you be?" Coop not so innocently instigated.

When Coop left at the double door front entrance, Nathan took the opportunity to take the stool closest to Amara.

"He seems cool," Amara spoke, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, definitely. Known him since junior high. But he's not what I want to talk about."

"Oh really", she raised her brows amused "what's your choice of conversation?"

"I could suggest quite a few topics, but I wouldn't want to offend you."

She felt his eyes on her face and body. It was if anywhere he looked, there was a surge of tangible heat left below the surface of her skin.

"Would you like more?" He offered.

Uh-oh. "More of what?" She was completely disconcerted, lost in a fantasy of him propping her on the bar counter, ripping her skirt up, and fucking her senseless.

"More of your drink---what did YOU think I meant?" His eyes were lit with insinuation.

'More' in her fantasy was something different. "Too soon to say," she replied cryptically, shrugging off her embarassment at being caught in a daydream.

"Alright, alright...I let you get away with that one. Just so you know that counts as your 'get out of jail free card'."

At that precise moment, something electric sizzled between them. It could be described as 'chemistry', but that word fell short of the damn near reverence Nate felt just to be near Amara. He wanted her in more ways than one. He indulged in his own mental getaway. One where he could be free to tongue bathe Amara, feel and taste every crevice of her body one lick at a time.

Amara felt compelled to touch him. She slid her hand over to his knee and stroked upward, stopping at the pocket of his jeans. She then repeated the movement downward and back again.

She might as well have given him a fucking hand job for the immediate effect of her warm caress.

"...heading home" was the only phrase Nate comprehended from her last sentence.

Yeah heading home to work out some tension with the good old vibrator. But why be so specific? She knew she could have easily lured Nathan back to her place, but somehow that didn't feel right. She gathered her purse and suit jacket. Nate stood, leaving a generous tip for the bartender.

"I'll walk you to your car. It's late and the lot is pitch black."

"No arguments here," she said casually.

He held the door open for her to leave as they headed to the small parking area behind the lounge. He wasted no time. 

"When will I see you again?"

Amara felt herself to be a pretty good judge of character. If she had thought that he had intentions of snatching her away to an unmarked van for some demented torture she never would have kept up their flirtation. So she went with her gut instinct.

"I'm free tomorrow, but you'll be meeting up with your friend," she said softly, hoping he would make time for her.

"Just for a morning basketball game. It's sort of a standing Sunday thing, but it definitely won't last all day. How 'bout I give you a call when I get out of the shower after the game?"

She wondered if he added the shower detail just to wreck her composure.

"Yeah, that'll work," she agreed a little unsteadily. She could envision him standing naked, his lean wet body drenched under streaming water. It was almost like a movie playing in her mind where just as the camera panned to below his waist---those sexy contouring male hip bones----

"Amara, could I get your number?" Nate was staring at her intently.

"Yeah, um, here's my business card," she fished one out from her purse, praying that it didn't come across as too impersonal. She just didn't think she possessed the capacity to remember her own phone number.

"It's got my cell on there."

"Good. I'll talk to you tomorrow, then."

They had just stopped short of her sedan. Taking her completely unaware, he stepped closer and reached for a long spiral tendril of her hair. He wrapped it around his fingers, feeling the silky strands. He planted the softest of kisses on her temple.

"Drive safe," he commanded in a sexy tone, releasing her hair.

His lips were soft, slightly damp, lingering in a hover above her forehead.

And he was gone. No corny come-ons, no slimy creepy touchy feely-ness. Just the touch of his lips and Amara felt like a goner.

Walking back to his truck slightly dazed, Nathan held her card like a prized possession. He sensed it was a privilege to get her number, and to know that he would see her within the next 24 hours was icing on the cake. 

Shutting his driver's side door, he inspected her card. 'Moda Amara', it read in bold scrolling black text; underscored by 'Modern Vintage Fashion Boutique', then 'Amara Hanley-Owner'.

She seemed considerably young to own her own shop. She couldn't be more than late twenties, he surmised. He tried to recall her features as he went to sleep alone in his very cold bed that night. It was as though her beauty blind sighted him, and the only impression left was of her her laugh and smile. It was like nothing he'd ever known. Well, maybe like back in the day when a crush on a girl would be so thrilling, you couldn't conjure them up in your mind if you tried. That had been a long time ago. At 30 years old, he hardly experienced 'crushes' anymore.

In another bed on the other side of town, Amara was under her plush covers, grazing over her 36-D breasts with her fingertips. She wanted to imagine it was Nathan's touch. Her eyes fluttered half closed. Tingles of anticipation seared through her nerve endings. Her vibrator was no substitute for hot, thick cock. So, she threw the useless thing back into her nightstand drawer.

She had taken her fingers to her mouth, sucking to coat them with saliva to lubricate their trail down her warm skin. She had just hit the waistband to the front of her red silk thong. She ran her fingers lower, feeling the creamy moisture she had secreted steadily since meeting Nathan. There was no way she could pretend that her hand could be an adequate partner for her horny aroused flesh.

Amara drifted off without release, choosing instead to focus on remembering the sensation of Nathan's gentle kiss.

She woke up the next morning with a jolt of anxiety. Fuck! The closing paperwork from Friday night would have to be settled before opening Monday.

Amara begrudgingly slipped into a comfy soft gray tube top, matching sweat pants, and flip-flops.

***

At her office desk, Amara stared at Friday's deposit report, huffing out a heavy sigh. What on earth did this girl do?! And damn, she had to figure out this puzzle before she could even fix the damage done to the internal web system on the computer.

Just then, to her annoyance, she heard her cell vibrate from the pocket of her handbag. She flung her pen out of her hand in frustration and answered her phone in a clipped tone.

"Whoa, lower your weapons! This is Amara, right?" His voice was so sexy and deep.

"Y-y-yeah...sorry, just in the middle of some paperwork at the shop."

"Oh." His disappointment was apparent. "I can let you go if you want---but I'd rather get you away for maybe a short coffee break?"

"I'd love to, Nathan---"

"But---", he interrupted, hearing the hesitation in her voice.

"But," she laughed drily, "I really need to get this done, and I don't know how long it will take. How bout we set something up for next week?"

"That's possible. I'll check and see what I have going." Damned if he was putting the ball in her court. He wasn't going to make it easy for her. 

She snapped. 

Typical male behavior! Reject them in any slight way and all of a sudden you're on 'guy time' waiting for their ass to call you. Amara wasn't having it.

"Look, Nathan, I'm not gonna do the clichéd thing here, shut my mouth, and NOT tell you that I think it's BULLSHIT," she emphasized the word with the bitterness of relationships past, "that you're giving me the brush off because I won't drop everything to see you."

"Fuck, tell me how you really feel," he mumbled. He had underestimated her, neglecting to realize that she possessed a temper to match her fire-hot physical attributes.

She didn't bother waiting for any further reply. Like a woman scorned, she continued her tirade.

"You know, the fucked up part is that I was actually feeling into you..."

'Was?!' Damn, past tense was a bitch.

...."You were the first man of any man---white, black, pink, purple, whatever--- in a long ass time that caught my interest, said the right words in the right way.... whatever..." She sighed, running out of steam, dismissing him sharply with "Don't bother calling me again."

Click. 

Nathan held his phone, agog. He never pictured their first phone conversation going like THAT. In his mind, there would have been mutual complimenting, words of anticipation for the plans they would make. Instead, he had to do damage control for her obvious previous relationship wounds.

*** 

What now?! Amara launched back in her wheeled leather desk chair at the sound of knocking on the glass door out front. She expected to see a stray customer being overly persistent despite the the obvious 'Closed' sign. 

She expected to see---well anyone but HIM.

She crossed her arms over her chest, defensively. Just who the fuck did this white boy think he was?! She unbolted the lock, opening the door only mere inches.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Does a frappucino count as an apology?" He asked in a solemn tone, bringing a tall coffee confection from behind his back. 

"Welllllllllllllll," she dragged out the word, "since there's whipped cream," she paused thoughtfully, "it'll work." She held the door open for him with a flourish of her arm. "Come on in."

"Wow, this place is nice." 

Nathan took in the Vargas type pin-up girl art on the walls, the sexy coquettish lacy frilled vintage style tops, bottoms, skirts, and dresses. He picked up a red, white, and blue nautical themed corset from the rack and held it up chin high.

"What do you think? Can I pull it off?"

Amara burst into laughter. "Maybe, but I don't think I carry it in your size. I could have it made special order if you like?"

"Nah, I'll pass. I think I'm too flat-chested to do it justice," he chuckled. Then seriously, "Did you design these clothes?"

"Yep. The designs are mine. I sketch them and send them out to a team who helps bring them to life." She monitored his reaction. He seemed genuinely impressed. Suddenly, his featured changed.

"Now that I know you did all these yourself, I can't help picturing, I don't know, whips, chains, leather body suits, ball gag masks..." he trailed off.

Maybe if he hadn't said that last part so nonchalantly, she wouldn't have found herself damn near choking on her first sip of blended coffee. As it was, she was sputtering it out left and right. She put her hand to her mouth to regain her composure.


Won't Make It Easy Ch. 01



"Why don't you come back to my office--"

"Yes, boss lady." He saluted her military style, following her down a narrow hall that turned and led to a decent sized office. "Is it okay if we have a safe word or something?"

She smiled. At least their shared sense of humor seemed to lift any tension from the phone call earlier.

Her office further emphasized her taste for things old and new. Glamorous vintage Hollywood starlet portraits adorned the walls. A plush cheetah print fabric covered a retro style couch. A heavy teakwood desk and large leather chair was situated under the room's only window.

As Nathan took in the room's features, privately noting to himself that the couch would definitely fit them both, Amara seized the moment for seduction.

Little did she know, Nathan had his own seduction in mind. He had been at her mercy when he stood at the shop door. Now he HAD to make her know that the tables had turned.

Moments ago, Amara tentatively stepped up behind him. He knew this because he could feel her warm breath on his neck. The sensation caused all kinds of havoc, flooding blood to his cock.

Then, like a vampire from one of those popular tv shows or movies, he moved at lightning speed to reverse the advantage. In only a matter of nanoseconds, he had her arms pinned behind her back. He thrust her forward towards her desk. With a kick of his foot, he sent her chair flying across the room.

She inhaled shakily, butterflies fluttering in her stomach, enthralled as to what his next move would be.

Nathan didn't have a blueprint to this scenario. But he knew one thing was for damn sure. He was going to devour her. He let go of his grip on her from behind only to make her place her hands flattened shoulder width apart on her desktop.

"Don't move," he ordered in a stern whisper. With her back facing him, he could execute each move with the element of surprise. He aligned the front of his body to the back of hers. A deep breath in and out made Nathan revel in the differences between their anatomy. He placed his thumbs at the base of her spine, dragging them inches lower to where her back tapered out to a firm round ass worthy of the pin-up girl posters in her store.

He tilted his head to the left, shocking the shit out of her when he stole a bite at the crevice between her neck and shoulder. He flicked a reptilian lick at her collarbone.

She felt like she had just taken the highest plunge on a rollercoaster.

"You want more, don't you?" His hushed tone made her listen even closer, made each word more devastating. "You're already wet." He dipped his pointer and middle finger below the drawstring band of her sweats.

"MMMMMmmmm...delicious."

Amara heard a slurping sound. She peeped over her shoulder just in time to see Nathan inserting his fingers into his mouth, licking her creamy juices. 

He savored her unique taste. "Look what you did. You made me hungry." Out of nowhere, Nathan knelt to the ground, gripping her tight at the back of the knees. He clenched the soft gray cotton of her pants and yanked them down savagely. They fell to her ankles.

"Hmmm no panties..." He nibbled at the inside of her thighs, inhaling her musky aroused scent.

She didn't know whether to respond or stay quiet. She just didn't want him to stop.

Without warning, he glided only the very tip of his tongue from the opening of her slit into the folds of her lips. Spreading his mouth into an elongated 'O', he suckled onto her pussy, lapping at it in long pendulum strokes.

Amara thought she was having an out of body experience. 

He felt her clit pulsating, swollen now with her arousal.

"Mmmmm...." his unintelligible murmur added a vibrating sensation. "Spread your legs wider for me, Amara."

She did as she was told. His saying her name added a new dimension to the whole act.

Now he took the surface of his tongue and curled it upward, making a cradling hammock for her pussy that he retracted back and forth against it.

"OHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhh!" Amara moaned. She could feel a building climax.

He continued his assault on her slippery pussy, alternating between soft lapping licks, delicate kisses, then hardening his tongue to stiffly poke and prod into her tunnel.

She felt her legs buckle. She didn't know how much longer she could support herself with them.

He stopped. "Come over to the couch."

She followed. What was he--- a fucking mind reader?! To her surprise, he laid down on his back.

"Come sit..."

Her brows furrowed.

"...on my mouth" he finished. 

As if that was the only logical thing to do! He slid her top down to her waist. She wasted no time following Nathan's instructions.

He had a death grip on her hips, pulling her harder against his mouth, if that were even possible.

"Look at me, Amara."

She glanced downward into his eyes, her hair cascading over her shoulders. Lightning struck through her. Feeling him claim her pussy orally was one thing. Watching him do the damn thing was.... priceless.

"I want you to see this, realize who's doing this to you."

She had to look away eventually. It was almost too much, too overwhelming. So, she rocked back and forth, grinding herself against his soft, wet lips.

"That's right. Feed me your pussy. I'm so hungry for you." To illustrate that point, he scathed his teeth over her clit, nibbled it, licked it mercilessly, and proceeded to suck on it like he was drinking from a straw.

Amara slammed her hands back onto his chest. She clawed her nails into his flesh.

In this position, her breasts propelled forward, prominently bouncing to the rhythm of her building orgasm.

Nathan released her clit and went back to cradling her pussy with the opening of his mouth. He brushed his tongue along her clit in a windshield wiper motion.

THAT sent her over the edge. Her body trembled and convulsed like she was having a exorcist type seizure.

Nathan reached upwards to embrace her back into his arms. Amara came undone. She felt like pieces of her had exploded all over her office.

When she finally came to her senses, she noticed that Nathan's eyes were focused on her in a penetrating stare. What do you say after something like that?!

"That was..." She gathered her thoughts.

Intensity in his eyes, he waited her out. 

The phone in the front store rang, then reverberated to the phone in her office, giving the awkward moment a sound effect. On the fifth ring, Amara heard her own voice. 'Sorry, you have reached Moda Amara after hours. Please leave your name and number and we will get back to you.'

Nathan tuned out the customer's voice that followed. The only thing that mattered was what Amara was about to say.

"That was...?" He prompted her. His mind filled in the blank mad-lib style with words like 'amazing' or 'mind-blowing', but he wanted her version.

"That was," she started again, "farther than I should have gone with you."

Nathan felt like he did during an unfortunate soccer game in gym class years ago when he 'accidentally' got kicked in the balls by an opponent---a sinking, blurring feeling to the pit of his stomach. But he opted to stay positive.

"There's no such place as too far with me."

"I can see that." She said sarcastically. "This is only the second time I've seen you."

In terms of reality, maybe, but not so in his many fantasies of something like this.

"True-- but, you can't tell me you didn't enjoy that as much as I did. You'd be fucking lying," he finished quietly.

She weighed that out in her mind. Suddenly she felt exposed being naked in front of Nate both emotionally and physically.

As if sensing her discomfort, Nathan got down to his knees, this time to help her step back into her pants.

Amara had experienced many, many, many men help her undress, but this was something new. She braced her hand on his shoulder for balance.

"Ok, prince charming. I got it form here." She slipped her tube top up into place.

He smirked. He knew from the jump that he was dealing with an independent woman. He could see now that she would never miss an opportunity to remind him of that.



Won't Make It Easy Ch. 02



***

After Nathan had left, neither of them having come to any sort of resolution on where they stood, Amara played back the message her answering machine took from earlier.

'Hi, this is Cardelia Nichols. I bought a skirt there on Wednesday---anyway, it doesn't seem to fit right. Just looking to exchange sizes....' 

Amara called back the number the customer gave. After it clicked straight to voicemail, she left a message offering assistance. 

Looking around her office, she smiled to herself. If walls could talk! Her workspace seemed to be marked now with the aftermath of her time with Nathan. She swore she could still smell his crisp, spicy cologne in the air. She spent a few diligent hours fixing the paperwork and register, packed up, and went home.

Settling into an overstuffed chair, Amara saw no better way to unwind than with some ice cream and her favorite fashion magazines. Because she owned a clothing boutique, it was nice to use her career as an excuse to browse through all the season's hottest trends. She had just curled up in her coziest Betty Boop print robe and slippers when her phone rang on the small table next to her.

"Guess who's newly single and coming back to Vegas?" It was the familiar voice of her best friend, Stacey. They bypassed phone greeting etiquette if the news was particularly juicy.

Amara knew, but didn't want to hear his name. She nervously twirled a front section of her hair around her pointer finger. "Let me guess---"

"That's right girl, Eric!" Stacey was naturally exuberant, being both sassy and Latina, so when she was really excited, words practically spilled out of her with accented giddiness.

"How do you know this?" Amara spoke flatly.

"Well, I was just cleaning up my friends group online, and just happened to notice on his page that he updated his relationship status and posted about leaving Santa Fe and coming back to Vegas. He didn't say how long he'd be here, though."

"No, but I'm sure you'll find out. You're like a bloodhound!" They both laughed. "AND I know you didn't 'just happen' to notice anything. You were just being nosy 'Private Detective' Stacey, as usual."

"Oh, shut up. You wouldn't be listening to me now if you didn't want to hear about him. I know you never got over him, girl."

There it was. The horrible truth. The man who had usurped any faith Amara ever had in happy endings. The reason why she was overly cynical when it came to the 'L' word. The man who had knocked her off her feet, only to send her plummeting back down to earth.

There had been no give and take with Eric. It was his way or nothing at all. She had never known a man could have such control over her until she collided with Eric; and it was a collision of epic proportions. They had passionate physical lust for each other, however, he always acted unaffected. She realized all too late that he was just using her for sex, but the hope of a relationship between them brought out her steadfast determination.

She tried to play the game his way. Whenever Eric called, she came running. Morning, noon, or night, he was as addictive as any drug could be. When he wasn't around her, she had withdrawal like a motherfucker. She naively thought her sex was a weapon, powerful enough to get him to want to be with her in the way she felt a man and a woman should be there for each other. Much to her disappointment, he was a constant disappearing act.

One night, after a torrid sex session, She rolled over and noticed what she hadn't the night before - the treacherous glint of metal encircling his ring finger. 

"I got married, Amara." He said it in a matter-of-fact tone. 

Eric verbalizing the obvious zapped Amara into a terrifying nightmare scene straight from the 'The Twilight Zone'. Even though it was several years ago, the pain of that moment stung her memory to this day.

"I just know that he'll be coming back around your way to see you again. He never could stay away from you." 

Stacey's words brought Amara back to the present. "I know. That was the problem. He couldn't stay away from me, and at the time, I didn't know better to stay away from him."

Stacey cared about Amara too much to say 'I told you so'. While Amara was going through her shit with Eric, Stacey remained a true friend, never passing judgment, only encouraging Amara to find happiness. She didn't want Amara to miss out on an opportunity to gain closure.

"Amara, you know if he's posting that he's single, it's because he secretly wants you to find out. You could just--you know--bring him to his knees and then leave him high and dry."

"I don't want revenge, Stace, not anymore. Besides, I met someone-"

"You met someone and didn't tell me?! You let me rave on and on about 'the ghost of penis past' and there is a new man on your radar?! Wretched wench!"

"Stace, it's too soon to get all worked up. We have no labels, no commitment. We only just met. But, I really think I could, I don't know, maybe have a sane interaction with a man that isn't entirely based on sex."

"Amen, sister. I hear that. Well, be careful, and I do want to meet mister man sometime soon."

"We'll see."

***

"Hey baby," a female voice called out to Nathan.

"How the fuck did you get in here?!" Nathan was ready to attack when he saw HER draped on his couch. He slammed the door shut behind him, setting down an armload of groceries on the coffee table.

"I never forgot where you kept the spare key, baby." She said it with a smug grin.

"There must be someone else in this room, cause I'm sure as hell not your baby. I'm not your anything." He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm his fury.

"No matter what you think, I never stopped loving you."

"Yeah, well, I stopped feeling anything for you a long time ago." Her blue eyes that used to hypnotize him no longer had their effect. The pixie style he used to think was adorable, angelic even, on her blonde hair now just looked overly trendy and obnoxious. Her slender gamine figure seemed to further emphasize that she never actually fully matured or grew out of her selfish nature. Now he despised the words that came from what used to be a sweet, kissable mouth.

"I was just so confused, and you wouldn't even try to understand---" 

He cut her off. " 'So confused' that you slipped and fell on another guy's dick? Wow. Now that's the fucking definition of confusion." He was disgusted and saw no better way to deal with Carrie than bitter animosity.

She wouldn't dignify that with a response so she tried a new tactic. "Nate, I know I hurt you---"

"Wonderful that you can admit your fault in this. What do you want? A damn cookie for honesty?! Of course you hurt me, but more than that, you disappointed me. I took you to be more than the usual Vegas club slut, but hey, we all make mistakes. You made yours by coming here. Now get out," he finished icily.

"You'll regret this, Nate." 

"I'll regret what?!" He asked incredulously. 

"That I came here to try to work things out with you, and you're so fucking stubborn you wouldn't listen to reason."

"Hold the fuck up! In what twisted parallel universe do you---" He interrupted his own rant, seeing no point in arguing with her. The damage was done. "You know what? I don't even want to fucking know, I just want you out. Leave the damn key."

"How do you know that it's the only copy?" She had the nerve to tease.

"How do you know that I won't just change the locks, or better yet, get your ass for trespassing?"

"You wouldn't." She leaned back into the cushions as if to put distance between them. She knew he would never lift a hand to harm her, but she was starting to see that she underestimated how angry he was.

"Try, me."

From the look in his eyes, she knew he wasn't playing. She slapped the key on the kitchen counter and left without further argument. But it wasn't over in her mind.

***

About a week had passed since Amara and Nathan had talked. She happily found distraction in her work.

"I think that the '6' sits better on your hips." Amara scrutinized her customer's reflection in the three-way dressing mirror.

"It does. I only went home with the '4' cause I thought the tighter, the better. But then I thought about it, and I didn't want my boyfriend to have any trouble taking it off, you know?"

Well that's too much info, but Amara got her point. "Mm-hmm, girl, I understand."

Never turning off her retail skills, Amara asked "Is there anything else you want to take with you this time, maybe a corset or silk camisole? Either would make a fierce combo with the skirt." She always pressed for building the sale.

"No thanks, I already burnt a hole in my credit card when I was here last."

"Ok. I'll pull up your account for the exchange. We have you under 'Cardelia Nichols'?

"Actually, you guys probably have me under my nickname, 'Carrie'."

***

It had been long enough. Nathan felt he had allowed plenty of time to pass for he and Amara to go to their separate corners and think about what they were doing. He got out of his truck and stepped onto the sidewalk in front of Amara's shop, but not before having all the wind knocked out of him.

He gawked at the sight of Carrie leaving, a shopping bag in her hand. What were the fucking odds?! As soon as he came in, he had to find out.

"How do you know the girl that just left?"

"No 'hi, how you doin'?" Amara saw the impatience in his expression. "What, am I under interrogation or something? The short blonde with the eyebrow piercing? She's a regular customer. Why? How do YOU know her?" She asked suspiciously.

He didn't want to lie. It would no doubt come back to get him. Karma was a bitch.

"She's my ex."

"She's your fucking ex?! No, you will not run your drama all up and through my business. This is my fucking job, Nate! You've got some fucking nerve. Did you send her in here?!"

"Hell no! Why would I want her anywhere near you?! I had no idea Carrie shopped at your store." Nate refused to let Carrie ruin his chances with Amara. "Let me make it up to you and do what I originally came here for --- to take you out to dinner. You name the place."

Judging by his reaction, Amara could believe him, but it still stung to know that Nate's ex came to her shop and that she just waited on her. She chalked it up to fucked up coincidence.

"There is this hole-in-the wall Mexican cantina. Amazing guacamole." She spoke in a slightly perky tone that she surprised herself with. She guessed what it came down to was that she genuinely wanted to go out on a date with him. They didn't seem to get a fair chance to get to know each other.

***

Following a scrumptious meal where Amara imbibed enough sangria to shame the gods, she found herself in Nathan's truck on the way to his place. It would never have sat well with Nathan's conscience to let her drive herself home, no matter how much she said she could handle herself.

He opened the passenger's side door for her, undid her seatbelt, and slipped his arm around her waist to support her getting out of the truck. They had just about made it to his porch when a figure on his front steps almost sent him reeling. You gotta be fucking kidding me!

"Hey, baby." Carrie said in her familiar tone.

"Carrie, if you don't leave now-"

"Believe me, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging me to stay." She talked in her usual low purr until she noticed that Nathan wasn't alone. Her voice squeaked up a few notches. "Who the hell is she?! Wait, I know her - you work at that clothing store. What the fuck are you doing with my man, bitch!"

Now Amara might have been drunk, but she wasn't THAT drunk. She spoke through clenched teeth. "WHO the fuck are you calling bitch?! Amara took a swing at Carrie, but Nathan held her back just in time to stop the punch from connecting. 

The last thing he wanted was for her to get tangled up in any bullshit over Carrie. He just knew Carrie would be all too eager to press assault charges against Amara to get at him.

"I told you not to come back," Nathan interjected sternly.

"You can't tell me what to do. Besides, there is a difference between trespassing and innocently waiting for my boyfriend to get home." On the words 'my boyfriend', Carrie looked pointedly at Amara as if to mentally stab at her.

Amara remained silent, now choosing not to engage in any trashy talk show type of fighting with Carrie. She figured she'd let Nathan handle this mess on his own.

"I'm not going to rehash this, Carrie." He walked past her to open his front door and get inside with Amara.

"I would have let your black bitch join us in bed, if you wanted!" Carrie shouted after him.

Nathan slammed and locked the door shut, not even acknowledging Carrie's crude suggestion. Once inside, he guided Amara past his living area upstairs to his bedroom. Amara was just about to voice her opposition, but couldn't find the words floating among the sea of sangria in her head. 

Nathan placed her on his bed with gentle tenderness. He carefully slid her stilettos off her feet, not resisting the urge to massage them a bit for a few seconds. He then got up to got to his bathroom medicine cabinet for some over-the-counter pain relievers and a paper cup of water.

Amara could already predict the hangover she'd have in the morning. "You don't have to do all this," her voice slurred as she took the pills and water from his hands.

"I know, you can take care of yourself, but I got you this time." he was situating a pillow under her head.

"I bet old what's-her-name-" She began, but realized she didn't know exactly what she was trying to say.

"Shh--get some sleep. 'Old what's-her-name' is out of the picture and just doesn't want to accept it. She's got her own version of 'The Stalker's Handbook."

Amara tried unsuccessfully not to laugh. "Ohhhhhhhh," she moaned, splaying her hand across her forehead. "That last pitcher is coming back to haunt me."

He chuckled and smoothed her hair away from her face. "I'll see your fine ass in the morning." He got up from the side of the bed.

"Wait!" Amara lowered her tone then, since the sound of her own voice was shrill to her ears. "Where are you going to sleep?" She shifted to her side to see if there was any way possible she could get comfortable and stop the room from spinning.

"On the couch." He pulled a spare blanket and extra pillow from his walk-in closet.

"You know I do believe you when you say it's over with her, so..."

"So why am I not trying to sleep with you?" He guessed accurately.

"Well, yeah, I mean-"

"Contrary to what you may think, I respect you, Amara. I'm not going to pressure you to do anything you may regret, especially in your condition." He lolled his head back and forth, groaning to make fun of a drunken stupor.

She would have petitioned him for sainthood if he wasn't such a smart ass.

He wasn't done yet. "Cause when I have my way with you, Amara, I want you to be completely sober." He left his room, shutting the door softly behind him.

Damn, he had a way about him that compelled her to want to explore him further.

***

Tossing and turning at close to 4 in the morning, Amara squinted at the bright red LED display of Nathan's alarm clock. She felt like the clingy fabric of her favorite little black halter dress was suffocating her skin, so she yanked it off along with her black thong, and slipped on Nate's robe. It was conveniently slung over the corner of his headboard. Mmm...it smelled like him.

She tip-toed down the wooden stairs, praying she wouldn't wake him. She lucked out. He appeared peacefully sound asleep. For the first time, Amara got a chance to take him in without his knowing. He was actually quite attractive, handsome even, in an unconventional sort of way. She pulled the blanket over his body protectively.

Amara was just about to turn away when he caught her hand. She had to stifle what would have been spine-chilling scream.

"What are you doing up?" He asked sheepishly as he stretched his legs out.

"I couldn't sleep."

He surveyed her body in his robe. On his glance back up, their eyes locked.

"Come to bed with me, Nate."

Nathan was trying to orient himself to the present moment, thinking he was still dreaming. "Wait, what is it with you? One day you're telling me you've gone too far with me, the next you're inviting me to sleep with you?!" He was awake now.

She understood his frustration. She should have made herself clear. "No no no no, I meant to actually sleep." She pantomimed, pressing her hands together against the side of her cheek.

"Oh." His disappointment was apparent.

He followed her back up to his room. His California king was a hell of a lot more comfortable than the sofa. He folded the covers down and slid into bed. Amara dropped the robe and scooted close to Nathan. 

He wrapped his arm around her BARE?! torso. Unbelievable. Mixed signals were a bitch. He was over trying to be so chivalrous. "I suggest you put some clothes on, my boxers and a t-shirt, or something. I can't be in a bed this close to you without wanting to do more than just sleep. I'm only human."

He tested her limits. Now or never. Well, maybe not never, but could she do this? Should she do this? She hadn't meant to stall, but the words escaped automatically. "What happens after this?" She gestured to the space between their bodies.

He paused. "You tell me. You ask me to come up to 'sleep', you said that, " he reminded, "then you flip the script and here we are. I'm not out to hit it and quit it with you, Amara. I would have just as easily stayed on the couch."

She looked up at the ceiling.

"You know THIS," he glanced back and forth pointedly between them, "has not happened yet. We can just fall asleep if you want it that way, but you have to make up your mind and tell me what's it going to be."

It was a very odd thing. Having Nathan tell her that he would be fine with them not having sex was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Amara knew it could possibly be good old reverse psychology at work, but she couldn't help herself. She pushed him from his side to his back, and crawled to straddle him.

Nathan gripped her arms firmly. "Are you sure?" His eyes burned through hers.

She nodded with a sexy half-smile.

"Should I get you to sign a waiver or permission slip, or something?"

"That won't be necessary." She giggled and leaned over him. "Nathan," she whispered by his ear, "I want you."

Those words were the key to his undoing. He breathed in her exotic perfume; some sort of concoction that reminded him of a garden at nighttime. Sexy and romantic, like her. He was damn near delusional. Her scent sent him over the edge. Nathan rolled his pelvis upward involuntarily.

He boosted her up, peeled down his boxer briefs, and settled her back down onto his cock. The skin to skin contact could ignite fires. They both savored the moment in a silent communion with each other. 

Nathan cocked his head sideways.

"What is it?" She panted out while riding him.

"I just wonder if you know how beautiful you are." He knew it may have sounded sappy, but he couldn't help expressing his admiration. Her skin had the glowing radiant luster of amber. Her immensely full, pear-shaped breasts were crested with cocoa nipples. Her delicate doll hands were braced on his chest. He could feel her toned thighs clasped around his waist so tightly. At 5'7", she was the perfect complement to his 6 foot frame. 

He looked up into her face. Funny how her beautiful brown eyes could convey hard-earned wisdom and sophistication one minute, then mischief and flirtatious sensuality the next. 

"Come on, you don't have to say that." Amara looked down. "You're already inside of me."

"Am I?" His hazel eyes seared through her.





Won't Make It Easy Ch. 02



That question probed an entirely different area of her brain, triggering her to swerve her body in a steady circular motion to bring them both pleasure.

Nathan squinted his eyes closed. Amara was tighter and warmer than he ever would have dreamed. Amara rode up on his dick until it almost popped out to allow only the slick head of his penis to rub against her pussy lips.

"Uhhhhhhhh," Nathan uttered a primal groan.

She shoved down on him hard to feel his full length reach inside her. Nathan swiveled himself horizontally, making 'figure 8s' that teased her pussy. Her mouth formed a wide 'O'.

She ground her pussy against his pelvic bone, giving her clit the stimulating friction of his damp pubic hair. Amara felt that familiar downward spiraling tornado spinning inside of her, letting her know she was close.

Not wanting things to end so soon, Nate lifted her up and off of him to sling her down to the bed on her side. He knelt and began fucking her from behind, gripping one curvy leg up in the air to gain better access for penetration.

Her legs forked open, Amara felt a magnified sensation of every entry and retreat of his slippery throbbing cock. That was it! Curling into a sideways 'v', Amara experienced an orgasm she never knew existed.

His big hands rubbed her back and tits with each thrust, as he gave her the full extent of his dick inside her. Nathan felt his own release upon him when Amara's pussy started to spasm rhythmically around his cock. He gushed his come into her with jet propulsion.

He collapsed next to her, lungs heaving with exertion. "Maybe now we can sleep?" He broke the sex-crazed silence.

Though downright exhausted, Amara burst into a fit of laughter. She scooted closer to cuddle into him.

"Ok. Your ass anywhere near my dick is just asking for trouble, just so you're fairly warned."

She smiled. "Goodnight, Nathan."

"'Night, Amara. Get some rest. You'll need it. I like my fix in the morning too." He raised his eyebrows up and down, comically.

"What do you mean 'fix'?" She asked with feigned innocence.

Nathan faked a huge loud snore. Amara smacked a pillow at his head.



Won't Make It Easy Ch. 03



Amara assumed she was going to be woken up by Nate's dick poking and prodding at her; the typical morning after sort of behavior guys stumble into. Not the case. 

She found herself suddenly enjoying an aromatic feast of the sweet and savory smells of Nate cooking breakfast downstairs. She cloaked herself in his blue striped dress shirt from the night before. It covered her body in a sexy over-sized way, but didn't fail to delineate the taper of her waist and the flare of her hips.

"Mornin', sleeping beauty," Nate greeted her over his shoulder, all bright and chipper with his early in the day bedhead.

"I feel more like the wicked witch to be honest with you." Amara's voice was like gravel. She attempted running a hand over her hair to smooth her often times uncontrollable curls. She wanted to get close to him, but the fear of morning breath prevented her from doing so.

Surveying his dining table, Amara had to admit to herself that she was impressed by Nathan's efforts. His countertops were scrumptiously cluttered with many yummy dishes: a large bowl of sliced fruit, a platter of waffles fresh off the griddle, and some sizzling bacon and sausage. "Great sex and he can cook too! You certainly broke out your A-game for me."

He chuckled as he tossed over an omelet with a spatula. "No games. Just a lot of delicious food. I don't know about you, but Round 2 might not be easy to pull off without something in my stomach for energy."

Amara slowly smiled and laughed. "Damn, you thought of everything. Coffee brewing. FRESH orange juice! I know they say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but that just might be the way to mine too."

"Thanks for the inside information. I'll keep it on file." Nathan winked at her. "Now sit and eat before it gets cold." He pulled out a chair at his table for her.

"You don't have to tell me twice." She grabbed a piece of bacon and plopped down.

"She likes her meat. My kind of woman. Now had you just sat there and sullenly picked at the fruit, I might have given you the whole uncomfortable 'wish we had more time but I have to go to work' speech."

"You're lucky this food is too good to throw or else you may literally have gotten some egg on your face."

"Speaking of egg, I gotta get the rest of it out of the pan before it burns." Nate turned his attention to the mixture of sizzling egg, cheese, and veggies. Amara nodded and went back to sampling his cooking.

To the side of the stovetop, Nathan saw his silenced cell was lit up with nearly a dozen combined missed voice and text messages from Carrie. He realized it was too simple to think that closing the door on her last night would actually close her attempts at communicating with him. He was grateful that the layout of his kitchen blocked him from Amara's view. 

He ever so briefly scrolled to Carrie's most recent text and read just enough to put a chill through the blood in his veins. Not the time or place to deal with her. He tossed the phone into a side drawer, not wanting Carrie to disturb the blissful morning he wanted to enjoy with Amara.

"I really like your place now that I see it in the sober light of day AND without a crazy ex-girlfriend hurling obscenities at me." Her dry, sarcastic tone did not hamper Nate from finding the humor in her observation.

"Thanks...and yeah, well, what can I say? Once a woman has been in bed with me and gets a taste of my culinary skills, it can be pretty hard to shake her off."

Amara's eyes widened in shock at the matter-of-fact arrogance in his voice. She knew he was only making fun of the awkward situation from last night. She raised a brow. "Is that so?"

"Mm-hmm." As he tore off a piece of toast, his hazel eyes glittered, implying that though said in jest, there was truth to his statement. Soon hunger took over, and their conversation died off to Nate's sporadic satisfied grunts while chewing and Amara's complimenting 'mmms' to the buttery syrup laden waffle she was nibbling on.

Nate rose up suddenly, brushed off a few crumbs at his sides and tossed his plate into the sink. "How was it?" He noticed that Amara had pushed back from the table, rubbing her abdomen to indicate her fullness.

"Delicious beyond words, thank you."

"You're welcome. So now that you've tasted what I have to offer, I want to taste you." His look was dead serious.

Amara's brows furrowed in disbelief. The fact that he could be so calmly blunt with sexuality derailed her into his suggestion. She was reminded of their little scene in her office at the shop. That same tone of authoritative dominance crept into his voice now as it did then. It left her short of breath and speechless to reply.

Nathan pat his hand on the free space of granite countertop by the sink. As if in a trance, Amara came to hop onto the spot, her feet dangling above the tile floor. Nathan yanked up the bottom hem of his button down she wore, baring her pussy for his viewing pleasure. He grabbed onto her ass and pushed her forward to bring her as close to the edge as possible.

He stood in front of her, meeting her astonished gaze with a look of certainty. His eyes never left hers as he lowered himself to kneel before her. He rubbed from her ankles to her knees and back down again. Tiny tingles of anticipation covered her skin with goosebumps. She flexed her calves in the firm grip of his hands. He tilted his head to the side, lost in the feel of skin so soft and smooth. He propped her leg over his shoulder, trailing just slightly parted lips over her inner thigh. He alternated to give her other thigh the same sensual consideration.

Nathan's hair, soft and silky, glided along her flesh as he licked abstract shapes up to the very gateway of her nether lips. Amara's head fell back unhinged, as if such pleasure rendered her neck useless in its basic function of holding her head upright. 

"More?" He looked up at her, curious to see if he had affected her as much as possible before he went in for the kill. Amara could not fathom a reply to his simple question. Instead, she got a hold of his sable hair and proceeded to force him closer to her aching heat. He smiled, even though she couldn't see it. He was buried tongue deep into her pussy, licking around to taste her flavor. Her creamy stickiness clung to the surface of his tongue.

As much as Amara wanted to sit back and relax into his oral ministrations, she couldn't deny herself to be filled with something else - the anatomical partner to the juncture between her legs. She gently caressed her hand from his hair to his chin, nudging him to look up at her and recognize that she did in fact need more of him.

Natahan stood, bracketing Amara between his hands. She let her eyes trail to his boxers and reached her pointer finger to the waistband. His cock sprang to life in front of her. She could see the outline of the mushroom tip thrusting up against the thin fabric.

He devoured the ring of moisture around the perimeter of his mouth, wanting every last remnant of her distinct taste. He leaned in to kiss her, driving his fingers up from the nape of her neck to whisk sensually through her soft frizzed out curls. He pulled her hair to expose her throat from behind the shirt's collar.

Their breathing started to mimic each other's to an ever increasing speed. Nate dipped into the nook between her neck and shoulder to take a suckling bite of her skin-- skin that still carried the exotic fragrance that would irrevocably link Amara's image to his brain.

Amara encircled Nathan's waist with her legs. He levered back and upward to impale her with his throbbing cock.

He leaned back. "How much do you want this?" His eyes implored her as he withdrew his cock just a bit, just enough to drive her maniaclly insane to have it back inside her. Amara whimpered in frustration. Nate held back just enough to make taking his cock by force out of the question, unless she wanted to fall off the counter.

"Need it that bad, huh? He arched a teasing brow.

"Yes, yes, please...give it to me...NOW!" It had been a while since Amara had been rendered incoherent by sex, even hot kitchen countertop sex.

Nate pulled Amara hard and fast against him, moving his hands to the undersides of her knees as to use her legs as the most erotic handle bars he could ever imagine.

"Sorry, I can't go without skin-on-skin contact," Amara coyly confessed. She ripped open Nate's shirt from her body Hulk Hogan style. She smirked as buttons burst, landing in tiny pings as they bounced to random places around them. She tugged up on Nate's wifebeater, yanking it up and over his head.

Her enthusiasm spurred on Nate to pummel her insides with a fervor. Every slick thrust and push forced Nate to realize that this woman could potentially be the answer to alot of what he was searching for. He didn't want to get his hopes too high. He knew the euphoria of sex could be like a hallucinagen, inducing the fleeting orgasm optimism, but so the hell what? Lost in the moment of watching the kaleidescopic expressions of pleasure fade in and out on Amara's face was enough to hault any doubts, at least for the time being.

Amara shuddered. The perspiration she had worked up while writhing to meet Nate's swift servings of cock was starting to draw the sensation of the cool kitchen air roaming over her skin. Her orgasm had reached throughout her body from the tips of her toes to the tips of her fingers. She shivered as her release took over, launching her soul to a cosmic oblivion.

"My turn now." Nate felt his cock twitch inside Amara, her clenching pussy robbing him of every last drop of pearly cum. "You owe me a shirt." Nate tried to sound as serious as he could muster, given the circumstances.

"I've never attempted menswear before, but there's a first time for everything..." She wiggled down from the counter. "...or, I could custom fit that corset for you. Your choice."

***