Bartering by the Beachside

Lucy caught her breath as the shop's bell rang with her entrance, a drop of sweat trailing down her neck. It was a hot day. The hottest of the year, apparently, and of course her high school friends insisted that it was the perfect day to hit the over-crowded beach. She suddenly regretted wearing cut-off short shorts with her string bikini, wishing she'd just gone with the two-piece instead.

The beachfront shop she'd sauntered into was cool; it was air-conditioned, thank God.

She looked around her, taking in the sight of wandering shimmers of the blazing noon sun catching among the countless trinkets clothing the rickety shack walls. That same sun caught in the wispy hazel of Lucy's brunette hair, a bundle of it tied up in a ponytail that hung off the side of her head. Her cheeks, speckled with an abundance of freckles, were pink from the heat outside.

She relaxed now, feeling the beads of sweat trickling down her smooth exposed skin cool against the artificial breeze, golden hoop earrings pushed into a gentle sway.

After a moment, however, her thirst reared its head, and her eyes darted around the shop, desperate.

Lucy was parched. She'd packed water into the cooler she and her friends brought, but that was all gone at this point. Her mind flashed with annoyance at the memory of her boyfriend chugging down the last bottle right in front of her. And so she separated from the group to find someplace selling ice-cold libation.

It was a much harder task than she'd thought it'd be.

She shouldn't have been surprised, turned away by shop owner after shop owner. It was the hottest day after all. Her only other option was to get in the staggeringly-long lines for food stalls or the hours-long wait for a restaurant. She'd figured by the time she actually got her hands on a bottle of water from either of these places, she'd be long dead of heatstroke.

That's how Lucy found herself here. It was a curio shop, only a hundred yards or so away from the end of the line of shops along the boardwalk. From the outside, it looked like it was barely holding itself together, two stories of almost-rotted planks of wood, paint chipped from decades of sunworn and storm-battered abuse. It wasn't much better from the inside, with antiquated tables scattered with dusty unwanted junk occupying the main storefront before the shop stretched into another section with a maze of bookshelves and racks of various other curios, curtains of beads and hanging fabrics making a maze of her own. A steel staircase spiraled into the second floor above, and Lucy could almost smell the dusty scent of age wafting from the opening.

Lucy wandered in further, gulping as she almost blindly shoved aside beads and various other tapestries as if she were hacking through dense thicket in a jungle There was a low chance that this old shack would have anything other than trinkets and curiosities, but-

"Looks like the heat is killing you," a voice said.

Too disoriented by the dehydration and the sensory overload of the shop, Lucy found herself in front of shop's front counter, finding that the voice belonged to who she assumed was the shopkeep. To her surprise, it wasn't some old geezer, but a man, probably a decade older than her, but still, relatively young. She didn't have time to appraise him further as she looked at him in a daze, and nodded.

He reached under the counter, and Lucy could hear the rattle of glass, the airtight closing of a fridge. Then, like a miracle, he produced an ice-cold bottle of water.

He didn't even have time to get a word in before Lucy nearly lunged for the offered beverage, snapping the cap against the counter in an almost violent slam. She chugged it down with desperate gulps, uncaring of the lack of decorum, unnoticing of the shopkeeper's amused gaze, fixated on the skin of her neck. When she came up for air, he had another bottle already open for her. She gave him grateful eyes as she finished that one off too.

Three bottles of water later, and Lucy let out a satisfied sigh.

"Thanks so much," she said, smiling contentedly as she handed him some cash. She took another breath, feeling alive and present again as the fans of the shop brisked against her skin. "Literally thought I was going to die out there."

The shopkeeper chuckled. He pulled out two more bottles from the fridge, their contents bubbly and orange. He cracked them open, and slid one over to her.

"Wouldn't want that to happen. It's why I always keep drinks nice and cold," he took a swig of the soda, and Lucy found herself fixated on the bob of his Adam's apple. "but I guess my shop is a bit too far from the boardwalk for people to bother."

"A sign or two wouldn't hurt! I just came here because I was desperate."

She took a few sips of her own soda, relishing the cool orange fizzle of Fanta down her throat.

"Marketing tips, huh? Well, advice wouldn't hurt." he said, his tone shifting. "Especially if it's from a pretty girl like you."

Lucy's eyes turned up to his comment. She immediately flushed, just now noticing where his eyes were looking.

She suddenly felt a little self-conscious, remembering what she was wearing; as she leaned forward against the counter, her cleavage kissed the surface of the wood, hanging low in the floral white-pink of her bikini top, its fabric perfectly complementing the unblemished creamy complexion of her bare skin, the denim short shorts that hugged her waist riding high up on her thighs, the string of the bikini bottoms inside them tantalizingly gripping her hips.

Having just turned 18 a couple weeks ago, Lucy was still getting used to the fact that she was now technically a woman. And she looked like one too.

She wasn't on the cheer squad like her friends, but varsity lacrosse toned up her body enough to perfectly complement the more...natural supple endowments of her assets: D-cups, plump and thick thighs to complement her long legs, and wide hips that gave her a perfect hourglass. Her boyfriend was almost a childhood comfort at this point, his admiration for her body almost like background noise considering how perfunctory the relationship was now; they'd been dating since middle school, and now that Lucy was a senior, she'd realized she never had time to explore and receive other men's attention.

She was suddenly aware of the trickles of sweat that ran down the expanse of her tight young body, how her skin probably shimmered in the wafting rays of noon light. An excited flush filled her freckled cheeks.

Lucy brought her attention back to the shopkeeper's eyes. Not lecherous, exactly, but he wasn't bothering to hide that he appreciated what he saw. He was probably drinking her in the moment she'd stepped through that door, watching her stumble over to his counter in a daze. The thought of this stranger checking her out when she was in such a state should have made her at least a bit uncomfortable...

...but with her bearings about her now, Lucy finally took time to appraise the shopkeep, noting his burly arms, the stubble on that jawline, the weathered tan of his skin. He'd gotten a headstart in...whatever this was, the faint crackle of tension that was so-very-apparent in the few minutes she'd gotten to know him, but teenager or not, Lucy wasn't naive.

He was hot. She'd let him look. She'd look right back. She played into it, walking a few steps away from the counter to see if his eyes stayed. They did, and she felt a mischievous spark light up in her chest. Her boyfriend was probably busy playing volleyball with the boys, his own wandering eyes checking out girls on the beach. He wouldn't mind if she was gone for a bit.

Yeah, she'd entertain him for a bit. It was the least she could do.

Afterall, wasn't this the guy who saved her life?

She handed him another smile, talking more steps away from the counter to cast her attention to the actual wares of his shop. She took another sip of soda.

"So, you own this joint?"

"Yeah. My ol' gramps gave it to me before he passed. Collected a whole bunch of shit throughout his life." the shopkeep said, walking out from behind the counter. He stood next to her as she ran her fingers through the spines of dusty tomes that must have been unopened for decades.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Eh, it's been years now. I like the place. I sleep out on a shack out back, get to wake up to a nice oceanfront view. Sure beats working the docks," he said. Lucy's eyes darted to his broad chest, the sinew of his bicep as he straightened out a tassle. That explained his...assets. He turned his attention to her again and Lucy's eyes darted away from his chest to meet his. Too late, he'd caught her. The knowing grin let her know. "...and once in a while I get some pleasant company walking through that door."

He kept his eyes on her, and Lucy felt another bead of sweat roll down her neck. She tried her best not to gulp, and played coy.

"Sounds quaint," she deflected, brushing past him. She held in a shiver when she felt his eyes in places where they really shouldn't be. If this guy was good at anything (other than being hot), it obviously wasn't being subtle.

She kept absentmindedly rifling through various curios, letting him tell his story, letting him ask her a few questions. Blunt as he was, he was good with saying just the right thing to earn a giggle, looked at her in just the right way to make her forget that she'd just met this guy within the hour.

Before she knew it she'd made her way to the end of the storefront. There was still the second floor and the labyrinth of shelves in front of her to explore but...the exit of the shop was a few steps away. She really should go back to the rest of the group. He said something that made her laugh again, and suddenly her boyfriend and the rest of her friends was the furthest thing from her mind.

She quickly pulled out her phone, tapping a "lines are sooooo long, everyone's selling out of water. gonna be gone for a bit" to her boyfriend.

Then, she bit her lip, turning from him.

"How about it?" the shopkeeper said, his footsteps bringing him next to her. "How about a proper tour?" He gestured towards the maze of bookshelves in the other half of the ground floor. Lucy gave him a look, but didn't answer. In lieu of silence the shopkeeper added, "It's cooler near the back." ...almost in a whisper.

Lucy chuckled, almost snorting at the brazen comment. He must have noticed the gears turning in her head, the flicker of her eye to the exit, the decision to leave or keep him company. Whatever it was, the charade was as good as over, and Lucy knew exactly what this man wanted.

It was her move on whether or not he'd get it, or whether or not she'd want it too.

"Well..." she gave him another grin. Was she really going to hang out here like this? She didn't want to give him any more ideas (not that she wasn't having any of her own). She didn't even know this guy's name. For all she knew he'd be some sort of creep...but that was hard to reconcile with the fact that the teenager found him deadly charming. She internally sighed, then, she folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at him, teasingly. "...I really wouldn't want to intrude. Seems like business is keeping you busy."

"It's about time for my lunch."

"That's nice and all," Lucy let out one last attempt. "But I think I've had enough dusty old junk to last me the rest of the day, and then some."

The shopkeeper was unphased. He took a few steps towards the other half of the shop, and parted a curtain of beads with his arm.

"There's something you haven't seen that I think you'd love." he said, gesturing through the parted curtain. Lucy raised her brow, but her foot was already in front of the other.

"And...if I don't?"

He chuckled.

"Then I'll give you some more drinks to make up for the lost time. On the house."

Lucy rolled her eyes. She tapped her foot and deliberated for another second, but the smile of the man almost made her choice for her. She took another swig of soda. Fuck it.

"Alright, fine." Lucy said, noting his wide grin as she brushed past him into the dusty maze of shelves and racks. "But I'm expecting a whole six pack if you don't impress me."

She'd get her hands on one either way.

***

Around half an hour passed. Half an hour that Lucy didn't even notice. Despite herself and the hard-to-please attitude she'd put on, the shopkeeper was too damn charming. Perusing through an endless array of curios and antiques, hearing story after story, joke after joke, Lucy found herself enthusiastic for what sort of cob-web laden trash waited around the corner.

And with every passing minute, she found herself flirting back with him at every turn.

They were nearing the very back of the shop now (far, far deeper than Lucy imagined it to be), and he wasn't lying: it was much cooler back here. But other than that, as he showed yet another curio with a bonkers backstory, Lucy wondered...was he going to make a move?

She knew that he was trying to impress her for a reason. There's no way a stud of a shopkeeper would bring a young girl like her deep into the privacy of his shack just to make her laugh. It was pleasant, of course, and it was the sort of situation that earlier on, seemed ideal. Just friendly company to burn some time and cool off with.

But she couldn't help but find herself almost anticipating the move. And before long, Lucy found herself almost...wanting it.

She crossed her arms, looking at him as his broad shoulders flexed while he reached for something on a tall shelf. She bit her lip. If there was anything that he was going to show to impress her, it'd have a high bar to clear.

He kept rambling on, rifling through another shelf before Lucy reached out and tugged at his shirt to shut him up. That mischievous spark in her chest was warmer now, and...lower. She blinked a few times as her pulse raced.

"So...you said you had something to show me?" Lucy said, drawing out the words carefully. Her lips curled into a grin. "Because I'm not very impressed."

The shopkeeper, as usual, was unphased.

"I did say it was in the back didn't I?" he gestured towards the dead end they'd just reached. Nestled in between two shelves that looked like they were about to cave in from the weight of the junk placed on them was a door.

Lucy looked up at him.

"Isn't that...where you sleep?" she said, saying the insinuation out loud making her heart race even faster.

"Amongst other things." he said, not missing a beat. "You'll see. And trust me," he winked. Lucy's chest tightened up. "You'll love it.

She tried to keep playing it cool, but she couldn't help but shift her thighs as she followed him to the door, feeling herself growing more excited at this maddening game this shopkeeper had strung her along in as he opened the door, and casually strolled inside. She peered into the doorframe, catching the foot of a bedframe, the dangling white of a bedsheet.

Lucy paused, gaining a moment of lucidity as she realized she was about to get into. How long had she been here? Did she even know his name yet? Was she really going to accept a stranger's invitation to their bedroom? Why was she so we-

"You coming?" the shopkeeper's voice called out.

Lucy had half a mind to say "I hope so."

***

The shopkeeper's room was as she imagined, just- as everything else was in this strange forlorn shop -roomier. The bed she saw was right next to the door, but in every corner were all the amenities a single man would need, from a kitchen to a living room, even a separate room for a bathroom.

Lucy closed the door behind her. She turned her attention to the shopkeeper.

To her surprise, there was an astounding amount of junk that had bled into his personal living quarters, and he was currently digging through a pile of it now. The sight made her smile, but also realize that his earlier comment of his living quarters being multi-purpose wasn't just an innuendo. The realization almost disappointed her, but she had come this far. Might as well see what he had to "impress" her.

She set down her soda on a nearby table and waited. Finally, with a shout of triumph, the shopkeeper arose from his digging, and strode over to her. In his large hands was an ornate wooden box with a golden clasp.

She took the box, giving him a look as she walked over to a nearby table and nestled against it.

"So you did have something." Lucy said, her tone almost disappointed.

The shopkeeper gave her a look.

"...well yeah, I wouldn't have dragged you all the way back here if I didn't."

The comment made Lucy confused all over again. Was he serious? She gave him another look as he stood in front of her, crossing his arms with an expectant look. Did he really bring her back here to show her some dinky old family heirloom?

And here she was thinking she'd get to suck his-

"So...are you gonna open it?"

Lucy rolled her eyes.

Might as well see what the fuss is all about. With a flick of her thumb she unclasped the box, and pried the lid open.

Almost instantly, all of her annoyance melted away, and her eyes grew wide. The contents of the box shone in a lustrous shimmer, filling her face in an almost-sacred glow. They were a pair of earrings, ornate and gorgeous, more beautiful than any pair she'd seen in her life. She stared, dumbfounded and open-mouthed for at least a minute before she gathered herself to look up at him.

"Wh-What are-...?"

"Gramps got it from some old jeweler in the 50s for his wife at the time. He told me to never let them go. Part of our heirlooms or something like that." he leaned forward, and suddenly his eyes shifted back to those eyes that had excited Lucy over the counter. He reached a hand to her face, making her gasp a little. "I thought someone with good taste like you would appreciate it. I know these are real gold, none of that fake stuff you kids usually buy."

Lucy flushed. He had a good eye. She had a huge collection of jewelry, a hobby and an addiction (as her father dismayed) that she'd inherited from her mother. The fact that he noticed that just from the earrings she had was impressive.

She cast another glance at the box, reaching for her wallet.

"How much do you-"

Snap!

To her shock, the shopkeeper shut the box tight, and with a tug, pulled the earrings away from her hands.

"Trust me, babe. You're not gonna have enough."

"Wait!" Lucy's hand darted out to his forearm. The touch of their skin suddenly made her shiver, reminding her that only a few minutes ago, he was the only heirloom that she wanted. In a panic, Lucy's scrambled mind spit out, "How about you fuck me?"

A silence settled between them. Both of them froze, and the shopkeeper's face grew unreadable. Lucy's heart battered faster than ever. Did she really just say that? With a dread she realized she couldn't take that back now, not with her hand gripping his arm. Then she gulped. Was it really the earrings she wanted?

Then, slowly, the shopkeeper placed the box down on the table behind her. Lucy's eyes didn't leave his. The silence was driving her crazy, but as she bit her lip, she realized she didn't regret it at all.

The shopkeeper took a step to close the distance between them. Lucy could feel her breaths against his chest, breathe in his musky scent as he loomed over her, stoic.

In a flash, those hands of his found purchase on her waist, and in an effortless motion, he wrenched her off the ground to sit on the table. Lucy was breathless, the action making her squeal. Instinctively she had looped her arms around his neck. He was closer than ever now, their breaths mingling between them in a way that made her heady.

"Now that doesn't seem like much of a deal, does it?" he said, his voice several octaves lower now, a primal growl. She could feel him now, something hard and big pressing against her belly. Her breath hitched again. She was very, very wet. "Not when you've been wanting it from the moment you saw me."