Small-town Scandal

Chapter 6: Collarbone

Somehow Laurel found herself at Modern Society the next day, and was surprised to see Brett behind the counter. She set up her laptop, making sure everything was exactly where it needed to be. After that she picked out the coffee she wanted, approaching the counter.

"If you like the cinnamon toast latte, I recommend you try to toasted graham next." Brett suggested, ringing her through.

Laurel set the money down on the counter, looking up to the menu board behind him, "Is it just as sweet? I've got a really bad sweet tooth."

"Really? Like sugary foods?"

"Unfortunately," Laurel laughed, "it's hard to stay away from them while being on a diet."

"Diet? Why on earth would you need to be on a diet? You're in such good shape." Brett felt his eyes drifting down her long torso, imagining what everything looked like underneath.

"I am now. I work out constantly. But thank you," Laurel said, feeling her cheeks flush.

Brett reached out for the money, his fingers accidentally dragging across hers. His body tensed, feeling his pants get tighter. There never seemed to be a specific reason that he got as turned on as he did when Laurel was around, everything about her made him lust so passionately for her. He tried to pull his thoughts away from her, "I happen to be a fan of Sour Patch Kids."

"They're so sour!"

"What? They aren't sour at all. Your taste buds must be sensitive."

"I think I can say that for a lot of me," Laurel blurted out, realizing how wrong that sounded. Brett lit up at the thought, unable to focus his thoughts on anything but how easy it would be to please Laurel. He thought about diving between her legs, kissing down her thighs until her reached the soft pink nub. Each stroke of his tongue sending her into panicked moans, twitching at each lap of his tongue. He was throbbing so bad that he was scared Laurel might see. 

Interrupting his fantasy was the chime of the door, causing Brett to panic as he slid further behind the cash register to hide his massive erection. In walked Emily, toting a sandwich for Brett's lunch. She barely noticed Laurel at first, walking behind the counter to place a kiss on Brett's cheek as she handed the paper bag to Brett. Once they exchanged a silent acknowledgement, Emily turned to look at Laurel. Brett could see the apprehension on Emily's face, but soon she put on her best friendly smile. Realizing that Emily was waiting for an introduction, he slid his hand out to gesture to Laurel.

"This is the new tenant on eighth street," Brett said, "Laurel Kendall."

Looking relieved, Emily extended her hand to Laurel, "Nice to meet you, I'm Brett's wife, Emily."

There was a definite tension in the air, but Brett told himself that it was just him, trying to get his emotions to calm down. Laurel took Emily's hand in hers and shook it, "Brett has told me all about you. I hear you're the local photographer?"

"I am," Emily replied.

"Are you typically booked up for the season or do you take some last minute bookings?"

Emily perked up, as photography was what drove her day in and day out, "Not quite booked up. What were you thinking?"

Laurel blushed, "Might sound silly, but I was thinking some boudoir shots."

This hadn't even dawned on Laurel, but for some reason she wanted to give Brett the image of her in scantily clad lingerie. Emily hesitated, but quickly nodded, "I get requests for them from time to time. Any specific day you were thinking?"

"Whenever you're available." Laurel said, her eyes unintentionally meeting Brett's. 

Brett stepped in, "You could talk about it more over dinner. I invited Laurel for dinner yesterday, I didn't think you would mind."