Restless Spirit

Idly slipping through the aisles akin to a restless spirit on the haunt, she casually greeted the customers surrounding her, taking the time to listen to their queries or assist in any way possible. Each customer came with their own unique appearance, persona and aura which was what she enjoyed most about her job in the quaint book store. Young, old, jolly, mysterious; they came in through the front entrance in undersized waves, each seeking something new and exciting. Breathing in the sheer humanity of the small crowd around thrilled her to the core for some inexplicable reason.

Off in her own little world as she systematically straightened and shuffled the books on the shelves in front of her, she had failed to notice the people around her had dwindled down to just one. The man in question stood staring at her with the most curious of expressions formed on his sharply angular face, a look of sheer excitement dancing in his cool grey eyes. Clearing his throat to get her attention, he ran a hand through the tuft of cropped brown hair, completing his appearance.

"Oh!" she chirped, turning to face the man, "What can I..."

Something about the man's appearance seemed to have flicked a switch in her brain making her incapable of speech. He simply smiled and answered the question she was about to ask in a voice so rich and deep that she imagined she could almost feel it engulfing her.

"I was looking for your books on karma sutra," he told her calmly as if it was the most obvious and ordinary thing to ask for in a book store.

She felt the redness building in her cheeks as she began to process what he had said. The victorious smirk on his full lips divulged his thoughts; Bingo.

"T-this way," she stammered cheerfully, mentally berating herself as she did so.

As soon as she had helpfully made a somewhat convincing gesture at the shelf, she departed hastily, absently brushing her fingertips across her cheeks to check the status of her fledgling blush. It had bypassed its normal gradual build up and sped full throttle into a bright, glowing burn. Forcing herself to redirect her thoughts back to her task, she moved back into her repetitive motions with relief.

A few shelves later and she found her fingertips sliding across the spines of the trashy romance novels they kept in stock. Out of sheer curiosity she plucked one from the shelf and had to stifle a throaty laugh at the title; "What the Duke Desires". Laughter still bubbling on her lips, she flipped the book over and began to read the brief synopsis, her amusement growing by the minute.

Without warning, a hand flew over her shoulder, resting casually on the shelf above. She tried to move backwards but found herself trapped, another person pressing into her back. Attempting to wriggle around to see who had ensnared her was pointless and she decided to wait, hoping whoever it was had done so by mistake and would move immediately. Her assumptions were dead wrong and the person merely moved closer, his body now intimately adjacent to her own; she could tell it was a man from the raging hard on that was pressing into her ass.

The man's free hand reached down and pulled the book from her grasp. She felt a pair of lips brush against her left earlobe and her heart began to pound.

"Is this what turns you on?" came the same deep, rich voice from earlier. His tongue passed briefly around the outside of her ear and she tried to suppress a shudder of pleasure.

"I don't..." she began shakily, gripping the shelf in front of her.

"What time do you finish?" he asked smoothly, his breath hot on the back of her neck.

"No," she murmured just audibly, squeezing her eyes shut. Pulling her hand up towards him, he grazed a kiss over the flat surface of her wrist. In a split second he went from holding it gently to tightening his grip to the point where it was almost painful.

"What time darling?" he pressed, somewhat aggressively.

"Six. I finish at six," she breathed, lust flushing sense from her brain.

"I'll be waiting" he replied breathlessly, dropping her wrist from his grip and disappearing as fast as he had appeared.

Standing speechless, motionless at the other end of the aisle he witnessed the mysterious man grope his colleague whilst she was stuck, unable to escape his grasp. He could feel the involuntary grinding of his teeth and was about to step forward to say something when the man vanished. Immediate guilt swept over him as he watched her attempt to compose herself before continuing her tidying. As she moved to stand up, their eyes met and she looked away, a fully fledged blush on her cheeks, her neck and chest flushed.

More confident now, he took as step towards her.

"Are you okay, Megan?" he probed gently, thinking it better not to reach out a hand as a comforting gesture.

"Fine, thanks Nick," she offered calmly, a strangely serene smile on her face. He eyed her off cautiously for a few seconds more before turning and leaving the aisle, thoroughly confused.

As the minutes ticked by on the front computer, Megan felt anticipation begin to form in a small knot in her stomach.

Five minutes to go and she was scolding herself, deliberately wrenching her thoughts from the poisonously seductive stranger and pressing all her effort into cleaning the glass cabinet.

Four minutes to go and she simply could not contain her wandering mind, relenting to the erotic images pulsing through her brain, flickering intermittently like a strobe light.

Three minutes to go and she had to stop her hands from unconsciously wandering towards the waistband of her pants, swearing mentally each time she felt her fingertips against the bare skin of her abdomen.

At six o'clock, after having logged off and collected her bag from the cupboard in record time, she took the short, jittery journey to the front of the store, her eyes casually scanning the crowd. He stood waiting, his steely grey eyes locked onto his target; her. Breathing unusually heavily, she walked towards where he stood, nerves intermingling with the anticipation.

"This way," he instructed, taking her hand and leading her through the dwindling crowds. She had no time to assess the rational reasoning behind her complete willingness to follow a total stranger.

Nick watched anxiously as she left with the man who had groped her earlier, worry twisting knots in his stomach. Marching out to the back room, he took out his phone and quickly, sneakily added her mobile phone number into his address book, reasoning that he would get in contact with her after his shift had finished. He drew intensely negative vibes from the man she had freely left with.

"Where are we going?" she probed, almost breathlessly, following the twists and turns as she was lead through the car park.

"Your car," the stranger answered, tossing a dazzlingly dangerous smile back in her direction.

"M-my car?" she squeaked, her grip on his hand tightening impulsively.

"I'll give you directions to my place. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to," he assured, using a tone which would have made her do anything regardless of how she felt about the matter, "Your car will be waiting if, for some reason, you wish to leave."

A pang of longing rendered her momentarily motionless and she could feel her arousal slowly building, caused by nothing but the tone of his voice.

What are you doing?!, her logical side attempted to reason, but she would have none of it. A new, unexplored emotion was building slowly in the pit of her stomach and it voided all logical thought.

The entire car journey was made with his right hand resting gently on her left thigh, the occasional movements he made with his fingertips almost enough to cause a car crash multiple times.

"What's going to..." she began, licking her lips which had suddenly become parched in the last twenty seconds.

"Happen? Well, I didn't buy that book for nothing," he told her, his voice a seductive purr.

God help me, she thought bemusedly, clenching her thighs together.

Nick shook the phone in frustration as his text message went unanswered, chewing on his bottom lip agitatedly. Every time he had glanced at the digital clock in the corner of the computer screen the numbers seemed to tick by slower. He silently hoped Megan was okay.

"Here," he instructed in a voice that almost mimicked a husky whisper. Her thighs still held tightly together, she pulled over where he had indicated, drinking in the sight of the fairly modest two story house waiting patiently for her.

He took the lead once more, exiting the car as she turned off the engine. Watching him stand impatiently beside the passenger door she assumed he meant for her to get out too and shakily, she did so. The front door loomed in front of them, somehow threatening in its sheer normality. He held the door open for her in a manner that, despite its rather gentlemanly appearance, seemed to be slightly skewed by the hungry look dancing in his eyes.

"Sit," he said, gesturing to the comfortable looking beige couch that lay at the foot of a small flight of stairs. He disappeared up the same staircase as she gently lowered herself to the couch, breathing abnormally. She knew he hadn't locked the door, had made no moves to prevent her leaving; why was it she still felt herself a captive?

"Drink?" he asked from the small kitchen on the slightly higher platform above her.

"No thank you, I don't- drink, that is," she stammered, fiddling with a loose fibre in the arm of the chair.

"That's too bad," he continued in a low voice, his breath against her ear as he handed her a small glass of an amber liquid.

"I don't..." she began again, but the few seconds she had spent ensnared in his gaze made her feel powerlessly reckless. She downed the liquid nervously in one gulp. An odd burning sensation accompanied it down her throat and she pulled a face. Suddenly the glass was being pried from her grip.

"Slow down, darling, I want you pliable, not senseless," he chuckled warmly, his fingertips brushing her arm. Despite the warmth in his voice she could still feel the strange icy grip of his stare. Letting out a breath she was unaware of having held in, she met his eyes without flinching. Unprepared for this he allowed a moment of wavering shock to pass before his features settled in to a charming grin.

"What is it you want from me? I'm more than willing to give it," she told him in one breath, wondering vaguely where the sudden courage to voice her dreaded thoughts out loud came from.

"All in good time," he replied heartily, "but for now I have... a gift of sorts."

She blinked at him, shuffling backward in her seat slightly as his gaze lay unwavering on her face rather than her body. It was unnerving; this wasn't supposed to be what he wanted. Her identity was not meant to factor in to this encounter, only the raw lust coursing illogically through her veins and quite obviously through his. At least, that was her assumption.

From behind the opposite end of the couch he pulled a small box, handing it too her with a wicked smile dancing across his lips. She took it hesitantly, her fingertips brushing the dark ribbon that held the lid on. Glancing up at him in confusion, she slowly pulled at the ribbon, letting it fall loosely around the box. Prying the lid off, she was met with something she didn't quite expect; or, rather, had never entertained at all.

Pulling the first item from the top of the box she immediately guessed what her 'gift' was and almost scoffed. It was not a gift for her, as she had assumed, but a gift for him. The black silk apron trimmed with white lace was an obvious salute to older maid uniforms was accompanied by a thin, almost irrelevant black g-string she dreaded having to wear. To top it off, a pair of sheer, black, thigh high stockings were folded neatly into a corner obviously meant as adornment for the shiny black stiletto heels shining poisonously in the bright lights.

"What is this?" she whispered, breathing in slowly. She felt like an idiot; it was quite obvious what it was and what it was meant for.

"I was hoping you'd wear it for me," he informed her, his left hand tracing small circles on her thighs, slowly snaking upwards. He'd almost reached his target when she jerked backwards, pulling the box and its contents into her lap.

"Where's the bathroom?" she asked confidently, matching his even stare. For a moment he looked as if he would insist she changed in front of him but to her relief he pointed to a door diagonal to them at the top of the staircase. His eyes traced her every movement as she slowly walked across the soft carpet.

As soon as she reached the bathroom she pushed the door shut behind her, breathing heavily. Without being aware of what she was doing she began to wriggle out of her work shoes, piling them with her socks in the corner. The box was placed down on the sink as she pulled her tight work pants down her slender legs, revealing lacy navy blue underwear that clung to her ass cheeks, showing off their perfect curve. Her shirt was quick to accompany the rest of her uniform as she tugged it off over her head impatiently. The matching bra made an appearance, bedecked with a strip of white lace around the top. It supported her fairly generous breasts, accentuating their full swell. Sensing somehow her new outfit was meant to be worn without a bra, she adeptly reached behind and undid the clasp, allowing it to fall to the floor. Her pink nipples stiffened, having been immediately affected by the cool night air around her.

Swiftly, she exchanged her underwear and tied the apron around her neck and waist. On impulse she pulled her tightly wound brown hair from its uniform bun and let it flow gently down and around her shoulders. Taking care not to put a ladder in the stockings she made quick work of sliding them over her toned legs, slipping her feet into the heels supplied. Although she was not a huge fan of the shoes, they were at least comfortable; he hadn't expected her to teeter around on a heel the size of a toothpick. Examining herself once more in the mirror and chastising her wanton behaviour- for all the good it would do- she made for the door, barely hesitating as she did so.

A low whistle resounded around the small living room as she slowly made her way down the stairs so as not to trip. The intense hunger in his eyes almost made her want to move backwards but she knew she would risk her stability if that was to happen. He gestured for her to come closer to him, running a hand down her exposed side when she was within reach. Gently, he reached up to stroke her face, pulling it down to his lips. They met with a frenzied clash of teeth as he pulled her on top of him, falling back into the lounge. She nibbled gently on his bottom lip, laden with a heavy dizziness as he continued to kiss her with such ferocity she felt he was almost trying to eat her face off. She matched his intensity with her own if only to prevent her face and mouth being mauled. Gradually he eased off, pushing her away from him with one steady hand on her chest.

"Fuck," he muttered, eyes glazed over with lust, his fingertips tracing over her hardened nipples through the small apron as he stared longingly into her eyes. Clearing his throat, he sat up and gestured to the two empty glasses on the table.

"Get us some more drinks," he instructed, breathing heavily. Biting her tongue, she bent over to pick the glasses up from the coffee table. A low moan echoed from the lounge behind her and she flushed, immediately straightening up as she realised she must have been giving the man an unrestricted view of her ass. After a hurried trip to the kitchen and back, during which time she had already downed her own glass, she placed the full one down in front of him. Unsure of what was required of her next, she stood awkwardly beside him, shivering as his eyes unabashedly traced her body.

"There's no need for you to stand," he told her, gesturing at the empty space next to him. Tentatively she joined him, letting a small squeak escape from her lips as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

"You didn't think I could control myself, did you?" he asked her tauntingly, brushing his lips against the exposed swell of her breasts. His hand snaked up the front of her apron, fingertips running along the top of her underwear.

"Ahh," she began, biting down on her lip as she squirmed helplessly in his grasp. An impish smile dancing across his lips as he gave her a questioning look.

"More," she barely whispered, hoping he could hear her. By the triumphant look on his face, she guessed he had. Once again their lips met and his right hand ran up the length of her back, pulling her hair away from her neck. Without warning he lowered his kisses, nibbling and sucking his way down her neck. A gasp fell from her lips and she wriggled in pleasure, willing him to continue further.

All at once he released his hold on her and stood abruptly, lips a violent shade of red where she had nibbled.

"Clean this up," he told her in a husky whisper, gesturing to the empty glasses on the table in front of them, "then meet me in the bedroom."

She stared after him helplessly as he strode confidently towards one of the closed doors. As she went to pick up the glasses, she noticed something else sitting on the coffee table. Her bag, phone and car keys lay innocently on the wooden surface, their presence asking taunting questions; Will you leave? Call for help?

Swiping her phone up, she checked her messages briefly. She was surprised to find Nick had acquired her number and asked after her in concern but she was in such a hurry to follow her mysterious man to the bedroom that she merely tucked the phone into the top of her stocking as an afterthought. The glasses washed and tucked away neatly, she practically ran to the bedroom. As she entered, she quickly placed the phone on one of the bedside tables. His back was to her as he sat on the other side of the bed but he had obviously heard her as she approached. Turning to her with a wicked grin on his lips, he slid towards the end of the bed, providing a broader access. With the smallest gesture, he indicated she should sit on the floor in front of him. Slowly lowering herself onto the carpet, she stared up at him wide-eyed, wondering what would happen next.

"I'd like a shower," he told her simply.

Unsure of what he wanted her to do, she glanced uncertainly at the bathroom behind her.

"Yes, the shower. I can't very well do that with my clothes on now, can I?" he purred, running one of his hands through her hair, pulling her head dangerously close to his crotch.

"N-no," she stammered, blushing furiously. Her trembling hands reached up towards the top button on his crumpled white business shirt. He caught her left hand in his and grasped it lightly, misreading the lust and longing behind her tremble as fear.

"You can leave," he told her softly, disappointment in his voice.

With a violent energy she didn't know she had she wrenched her wrist from his grasp and steadily unbuttoned his shirt, speeding through each button as if it were merely a fleck of dust she was brushing aside. Her fingertips caressed each patch of his chest that she unveiled as she went, tenderly stroking the bare skin.

"Slow down," he chuckled warmly, catching both her hands as they moved towards his belt. He lifted them to his mouth and grazed his lips across her knuckles. Without breaking eye contact he continued down her left wrist, pausing only to speak briefly.

"There's no fire."

An embarrassed chuckle fell from her lips as she slowly moved her hands back down towards his belt. She took her time removing the belt with a steadier hand than before, drawing out the time it took her to free the strip of leather from its constraints. Decisively skipping past his plain black pants, she wriggled his shoes loose and stripped his socks from his feet. Slowing her pace incredibly, she slid her hands up the inside of his legs, watching the expression on his face as it changed with her increasing height. Aggravatingly, she skipped over his crotch and began to tug at the buttons that held him captive.