She has beautiful eyes.
I’m still staring when she suddenly starts to move towards me. My heart nearly stops when she passes right in front of me, our bodies almost brushing against each other as she moves farther into the shop. I take a deep breath, filling my nose with her scent. She smells like shampoo and strawberries, sweet and nice, and yet somehow, extremely sensual.
I follow her through the shop, only half listening as she talks about the items they have for sale. I’m too busy watching her slender waist and the smooth curve of her hips. She stops suddenly and turns around, and I have to look back up at her face.
I don’t know what she sees in my expression, but she steps back abruptly, away from me. She looks tense all of a sudden, and I almost feel guilty for checking her out. “We have um... These glass sculptures are all made locally.” Her words come out in a rush, and I can tell that she’s nervous. Well I’m nervous too, nervous, fascinated, enthralled and so many other things I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s somewhat gratifying that she’s as affected by my presence as I am by hers.
She keeps talking, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the lush pinkness of her lips. The hunger to kiss those lips spreads from my brain to my fingers, and straight to my groin.
“What’s your name?” I interrupt. I’m more interested in her than in anything stocked in the shop.
At first, she looks bewildered, like she has no idea what I just said. “Sophie.” She says, after a short pause. “Sophie Bennett.”
“Sophie.” I repeat. The name suits her. She looks quite young, I think, studying her face. I find myself desperately hoping that she’s not in high school or something else that’ll make me feel like a pervert. “And how long have you worked here, Sophie?” I’m trying to play it cool, even though my fingers are itching to touch her, to feel the smoothness of her skin.
“I... um...” She blinks rapidly, “a few months.”
“Interesting.” I assume she works part time while attending a local college. At least I hope so. That would make me feel less degenerate. “College?” I ask, studying her face.
She shakes her head.
I frown. “How old are you?”
She pauses, licking her lips in a quick movement. I stare at her moistened lips, unable to look away, or to ignore the sudden and insistent thickening in my pants.
“Eighteen.” She says, her voice so low I almost miss it.
Eighteen! I’m lusting after a baby.
I take a small step back, disappointment and common sense piercing through my overwhelming desire for her. “You’re very young.” I say unnecessarily.
She doesn’t reply. I watch as her gaze drops from my face. I’m wondering what she’s thinking when she looks back up again, swallowing me with deep green eyes. Lost in the green depths, I can’t think clearly, my mind fills of images of all the things I want to do to her, with her.
I am a pervert.
I look away, desperate for a distraction. My eyes catch on a small glass sculpture. “I’d like the glass swan.” I tell her.
She looks like I just spoke in Greek. “The what?”
The nonplussed expression on her face brings a chuckle to my lips. I incline my head towards the sculpture, noting her embarrassment as she picks it up. I follow as she takes it to the desk at the front of the shop, trying this time not to ogle her perfect behind.
“Do you want it wrapped?” She asks.
“Yes, and delivered.” I give her my address in Seattle, and wait as she jots it down on a notepad, then I hand her my card, and as she takes it, her fingers brush against mine. They’re cool and soft, and I suddenly have an urge to ta
ke her hand and kiss it. The contact is only for a few moments, but those moments seem to last for a long time.
She’s staring up at me like a deer caught in headlamps. She feels it too, whatever this is.
Abruptly, she pulls her hand from mine and swipes my card, not looking at me.
“I want to see you.” The words escape my lips without any input from my brain. She stills, and those green eyes find mine again. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing.” She says after a pause.
“Then have dinner with me.”
She looks as if she’s thinking about it, confusion, and a whole lot of other emotions running through her features. “Please.” I persist, giving her a smile for good measure. Somehow, I want this very badly.