Chapter 1 #3
Blaine peeled his eyes off her jiggling flesh while trying to suppress the memory of how her skin had tasted, and the delicious, raspberry-colored nipples that were threatening to break free at any second. He’d spent a ridiculous amount of time over the last ten months thinking about those nipples.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got to get this mess cleaned up before I open at noon.”
“Wearing that?”
Her green eyes shot fire at him, but mixed in with the anger, he saw desire.
Oh yeah, she’s thought about me, too.
“It’s either this or naked.” She tossed his coat back at him. “Take your pick.”
Blaine swallowed hard as he remembered the sight of her naked and handcuffed to her scumbag of a husband. “I choose neither,” he said through gritted teeth as he realized they were drawing a crowd of spectators who’d figured out that Tiffany’s outfit had caused the crash.
The two drivers were arguing with a red-faced and flustered Patrolman Abrams.
“You may not be aware that this town has decency laws,” Blaine said.
“All the important stuff is covered,” she retorted, bending over to fill the roller pan with paint.
At the sight of her rounded bottom, a surge of lust hit Blaine right in the groin. “It’s not covered well enough.”
“So write me a ticket and be on your way. I’ve got work to do and not much time to do it.
” Running the roller through the glossy white paint, Tiffany began applying it to the splotches of red, green and yellow that marred the front of her store.
Up went the roller, down went the front of the black bustier.
Blaine wasn’t sure what was going to happen first: either his head was going to explode or her boobs were going to bust free of that thing she called decent. “Tiffany, please. Come on. We’ll get someone over here to do the painting.”
“Who? Who will we get to come help the woman who had the nerve to open a sex-toy shop on this button-downed, sexless, freak-show island?”
He stared at her, his brain attempting to process the words as he began to sweat in earnest. “I thought this was a lingerie shop,” he somehow managed to say. “You didn’t say anything about, um, toys.”
“I said lingerie and other items.”
“Is that how you managed to get it past the town?” he asked, mesmerized by the sway of her breasts as she worked the roller.
A bead of perspiration traveled from the base of her neck straight down to the valley between her bountiful breasts. Despite his best efforts to keep it under control, his dick surged to full hard-on status. He shifted his coat so it covered the front of him.
“They’ve been so busy trying to keep Jumbo Mart from invading their pristine island that they barely noticed me.”
Blaine glanced at the knot of traffic, the mangled cars, infuriated drivers and his rookie attempting to bring order to the chaos. Relieved to see two more cruisers heading toward the scene, Blaine returned his attention to her. “I think it’s safe to say they’ve noticed you now.”
“That’s the goal,” she said with a saucy grin.
“You caused an accident!”
“Um, no, the person who wasn’t watching where he was going caused the accident.”
Blaine anchored his free hand to his hair to keep the top of his head from blowing off.
“You need to put some clothes on, or I’m going to have to cite you.
” He couldn’t charge her with anything other than creating a public nuisance, but she didn’t need to know that.
Besides, his threats of law and order had hardly stopped her from finishing the job.
Tiffany covered the last of the red splotches with a wide stroke of the roller. “You know, whoever decided to redecorate my shop has actually done me a favor.”
“How do you figure?” Blaine asked, exasperated that she refused to take him seriously.
“Well, I needed to repaint and didn’t have anything else to wear. Who knew this little number would get me so much free publicity? Maybe a little ‘creative advertising’ is just what I need to make a name for my new shop.”
Now Blaine was not only sweating but also wondering why the idea of her parading around half dressed in the center of town made him so damned mad.
It wasn’t like she belonged to him or anything.
But if she did—belong to him, that is—you could bet your ass that she wouldn’t be showing her ass to anyone but him.
“Sweetheart, it’s safe to say you’ve made a name for yourself that’ll be remembered on Gansett Island for years to come. ”
“Perfect.”
“Listen, I’m trying to help you here.” Once again, he tried to cover her with his coat, and once again, she pushed it away.
“I appreciate your whole hero-to-the-rescue act, but I’m all set. Go do your job, and I’ll do mine. I’m very busy, and you’re going to scare all my customers away with that nasty scowl on your face.”
Now that just made him mad. “This isn’t over.” He was dying to ask about the status of her divorce, but this wasn’t the time or the place.
Bending to pour the remaining paint from the roller tray back into the can, she gave him another view of her superb backside. When she stood upright again, she turned to him, her face red and flushed from heat and exertion. “Sweetheart,” she said in a mocking tone, “it was over before it started.”