messy sketchbooks

an unprofessional surprise

fuck. fuck. fuck.

you glared at him, mouth open. swearing time had frozen in place. staring into the embarrassing abyss, you wanted the earth to swallow you whole. how did he know? was he the mystery stranger? he must have been, you would have remembered his angelic face if he was a regular.

"would you like to close your mouth angel? or do you prefer it open?" his words snapped you out of your chaotic trance. lips pursing back together, you followed his instruction without even muttering a single vowel. the warmth of his body could still be felt as your back was cornered onto the door, you slid past him awkwardly, needing some space, some time to think.

you spun round to see him still staring at you. never taking his eyes off your figure, just like last night at the plaza.

"aha, that's not my n-name, you m-must have me mistaken for someone else. did you want me to go grab cherry for you instead?" trying to brush off the initial, honest encounter. what were you thinking? there was no fucking girl called cherry in this whole office. there probably wasn't one single woman called cherry in the whole of new york fucking city.

he breathed out heavily sliding his hands into his pockets as he did. "is that so?" head tilting for the second time. he knew what he was doing, making you flustered, making you crumble under his words.

you changed the subject.

"anyways, mr dameron said i'm dressing you for an annual christmas party? is this a black tie event? casual? fancy dress? haha" you tried to remain professional but still charming at the same time. your feet fidgeting with every option you gave him.

"black tie" he ordered back to you. he didn't expand, he wasn't much for conversation you initially judged.

"okay, well should we start with your measurements? and then we can chose a design, cut, fabric and finishing touches together after?" you ordered back to him. showing confidence in your work and exterior. running the measuring tape, through each of your individual fingers. you were more relaxed now, but you still needed something to fiddle with to keep your mind from wandering astray to how much mr ren had already seen of you. you couldn't help but blush, he'd seen all of you. working on that pole, fingers running through your hair, over your breasts, teasing with the lace and ribbon on your underwear. head slowly throwing itself back to expose your neck under the glistening lights, he'd even seen your sensual dance moves, usually reserved for the easy regulars.

"that sounds like an excellent idea" he paused with an alluring grin, before retracting the sign of emotion. "are you a little hot? you're blushing" as his question left his lips, his hand returned out from his pocket and found its way onto the side of your cheek. it made your breathing purr, his touch felt new but familiar. you became excited with the raw connection. his thumb skimmed the surface of your cheek before leaving you cold. wanting more of him, more of his touch. you started to crave this feeling. a feeling of greed, hunger.

"oh, uh, no no i'm fine sir. shall we get started?" you become flustered again. practically spitting out your words. he fully had you under his spell. and all he did was graze your cheek. you wondered how you'd react to other parts of your body being caressed that way? you snapped out of it. 'be fucking professional' you hammered through your mind.

you started measuring his upper body first. conducting it in silence, the awkwardness filled the intimate back room of the fashion house. scribbling down the sizes as you went on, he was larger than the average man. not in an unhealthy way, but in a more, 'god was having a good day when making him' way. his broad shoulders seemed longer than your legs, his arms could easily wrap around your entire body.you were already obsessing over his appearance. 'be professional' you kept repeating in your head, like a child who couldn't sit still while doing their homework.