Bare Naked Designs, #3 Being bound together was never part of the plan. Amie Woods is living the life she wants, but her search for a man who can keep up with her sexual demands has tested her faith in Happily Ever After. Milton Campbell bears the weight of the world on his shoulders, but when he has the opportunity to re-ignite old friendships, it reminds him of a time in his life when he knew how to have fun. When the two meet, sparks fly–and not the good kind. Their dislike for one another is second only to the sexual attraction simmering between them. A twist of circumstance lands them in the same bed, and Milton jumps at the opportunity to put his pleasure in Amie's hands. A two-week fling might be exactly what he needs to bring back his love of life, and Amie can't throw away the opportunity to be herself–both in and out of the bedroom. At first, they seemed all wrong for each other. But when ‘casual' builds into something more, Amie and Milton must decide if they're willing to risk being bound together by love. 36,142 Words
Release date:
September 19, 2011
Publisher:
Lyrical Press
Print pages:
114
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Milton Campbell stared across the empty street into the dimly lit store wondering why there was a half-naked female prowling around the front window.
The edge of her blond hair fell below her shoulder blades. Porcelain skin shone like alabaster under the light of the window. Her torso was covered in black satin and lace, the edges lined in pink. With her back toward him, bending over the mannequin, he could see that her frilly panties covered only half of her firm, round bottom. His lip curled up in a grin as his stare slid down her lithe legs to her bare feet that stepped softly on the plush carpeting.
Milton had fled his hotel room to escape the silence, but the city streets did little to calm his over-active brain. It was late, and only the hum of cars on the surroundings streets seeped into the night air. Loneliness and worry plagued him, as it always did when he was away from the people who mattered most. But the woman in the window had stopped him dead in his tracks.
She had turned her body so that she now faced him, her head blocked by the mannequin, as she searched inside the clothing, maybe for a tag. Finally, she tilted enough that he could see. Platinum locks framed delicate skin and the soft lines of her face. With the light illuminating her in the window she looked like an angel.
Milton ran his fingers through his hair. The only angel that seemed to visit him was the angel of death. And this perfect, sweet girl looked nothing like death.
She smiled. To herself? Her lips began to move. There must have been someone with her, a man? The light in the window didn’t hold a candle to the brightness of her smile. She was simply stunning.
There was an ease about her, a confidence that not many possessed. She had to be confident in order to stand naked in a store window for anyone to watch and admire. She was something to be admired, all right.
He stepped out of the darkness and felt the warmth of the street lamp shine down from above.
Good thing he decided to give up his search for love and commitment a long time ago, because looking at her he knew he would have been forced to find out more. Something about her called out through that window like a magnet pulling at its pair. Would she have been the one to fulfill his dreams?
She glanced in his direction and he stepped back into the shadows, settling against the brick of the building with a sigh of relief. Normally, the women who waltzed in and out of his life–passing sexual conquests–seemed to add to the weight of the world he carried on his shoulders. Yet the mere sight of this woman with the platinum hair and tight body lightened the emotional load. Lightened, but not eliminated. That weight was permanent and so was his sad fate, one he would never inflict on another person, especially not the beautiful, unsuspecting woman in the window.
Milton avoided permanence, but for the first time, the idea tugged at his gut. He needed to walk away, because he knew one moment with her and he wouldn’t be able to let her go. One moment with her would force him to rethink everything he had come to believe in.
* * * *
Amie Woods got a shiver that ran up her spine and settled as a warning tingle at the base of her neck. Someone was watching her.
She turned around and looked out the storefront window of Satin & Lace into the dark, empty street. The only object illuminated under the bright lights was a black SUV. Amie had spent many nights in the lingerie store, but this was the first time a feeling of discomfort settled in her stomach.
Shaking it off, she turned her attention back to the mannequin. She held her breath, hoping the tag on the bodice displayed the correct size.
“Will you get out of that window?” A screech carried its way from the back office to the front of the store.
Amie cursed under her breath as she turned her attention from the mannequin, her tall frame shrinking at Carrie’s sneer. “You need a bell or something so I know when you’re coming.”
“Amie!” Carrie Taylor–her best friend and faux boss–raced over to the window. “I don’t like when you do that. You’re inviting trouble, anyone can walk by and see you.”
Amie’s stomach lurched at the feeling she’d had not one minute before, like someone was watching her. “Calm down, Care. No one is watching, and I need to check the size of this bodice. It’s the only one left.”
“Why I agreed to pay you in lingerie I have no idea,” Carrie said, her exhaustion coming out in her voice now.
“Because I’m the sexiest person you know, and having me in this window is bound to increase your sales. I’m hot.” Amie was the first to offer Carrie help when she took over the store almost two years ago, but she would never take her friends’ money. Instead, Amie had her pick of anything in the store.
“Is anyone ever going to be able to keep you in line?” Carrie asked.
Amie ignored the question as Carrie stood, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for an answer. She wasn’t going to get one. Instead, Amie admired Carrie’s outfit, proud of her transformation from the buttoned-up bore she had been before she hooked up with Aleks a year ago. Her black pencil skirt hugged her hips, and the plunging neckline of her sleeveless top accentuated her ample breasts. The picture of sophistication and sexiness.
“That won’t fit.” Amie motioned to the black bodice in the window as she stepped down. “Care, do you think you could make me one of these in my size?” The bodice was real leather that laced up the front. It was a best seller. After several months of hounding Carrie to try something a little kinky, she’d finally caved and wouldn’t you know, Amie was right. Women loved kink.
“Sure, hon. But I have three weddings this weekend. Can you wait a bit?”
“I can wait.” Amie stood with her hands on her hips. The fact that she was dressed in skimpy boy cut panties and a corset didn’t matter in the least. She had been blessed with a naturally thin body. Teaching yoga took that blessing to the next level, and Amie intended to flaunt it for as long as she had it.
“Before you go can you lace me up?” Amie turned her back to her friend, showing her the loose satin strings that hung from the bodice.
“Of course.” Carrie set her purse on the counter then made her way closer to the window.
“What do you do with all the lingerie, Amie?” Carrie asked as she pulled on the loose strings with one hand and the threaded ones with the other.
“Oh, you know, I have a long line up of men waiting around for me to give them a booty call.”
“I don’t know how you do it. Don’t you get tired of the small talk? The stupid banter that comes with the beginnings of a relationship.”
It’s exhausting. “Do you think I like playing the field, Care? But I won’t settle. Until I find the man of my dreams I’m going to enjoy what the rejects have to offer.”
“What’s that?”
“A penis.”
Carrie laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with a good penis.”
“I knew you hooking up with Aleks was going to have a good effect on you.” In an attempt to squash years of unrequited love, Carrie had devised a brilliant plan to seduce her life-long friend Aleks Turko, thinking it was her only way to get over him. Boy had she been wrong.
“Did you ever think we would get here?” Carrie tugged on the strings, jerking Amie’s body back. The bodice tightened around her torso. “Pairing off, marriage, babies?”
“I knew some of us would get here eventually. But I’m not surprised that it was Rob who was the first to go.” Rob, Carrie’s brother, was weeks away from becoming a father and marrying the love of his life, Martina.
“What do you mean some of us? You’ll get there too, Amie.”
“I’m sure I will.” Amie hoped Carrie believed her, because she wasn’t so sure she believed herself.
“Maybe even this weekend. I hear there are going to be a few single men at the baby shower.”
“Yeah, teachers. I love your brother, but no thanks. I’ll skip the boring nerds who would rather watch the Discovery Channel than actually participate in the world.” Amie let Carrie’s tugs sway her body back and forth.
“What do you want, Amie?” Carrie stopped the pulling and leaned in, resting her chin on Amie’s shoulder.
“I don’t know.” Amie tilted her head, the soft strands of Carrie’s hair silky against her cheek. “But I’ll know when I find him.”
Silence fell between them as Carrie returned to tying the bodice as tight as she could. But Amie knew her time would come. It was all about finding a man she could be herself with. She was no shrinking violet, not a woman to let things happen to her. Amie needed a man who would let her lead–not dominate–and be comfortable and confident enough to know when to step back and when to take the reins. She needed to find her better half, someone to hold her and take care of her when she needed it but also to embrace her sexuality.
Often men were turned off by her free spirit. That was their nice way of putting it. They were afraid of her aggressive sexuality, her willingness to let go, try new things, and take charge in regards to giving and receiving pleasure.
The men she dated didn’t get it. They didn’t want a woman, they wanted a trophy, a wallflower to attend to their needs. And even those men who said they had no problem with her needs ended up resenting her, their egos too big for them to check.
A rush of noise and air drifted from the front door as Martina Jackson waddled into the store. “Hello, ladies.”
“Hi, Marty,” Carrie said as she tugged at the strings again, this time lower on the back of the bodice. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to ambush Amie. Again.” She took one half-step at a time, her ring-less left hand flat against her pregnant belly. It wouldn’t be ring-less for much longer. “But from the sight I saw in the window I . . .
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