The Cocktail Dress
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- Parts 2
"Hello My Name Is Steph Railderson" I said I felt so awkward around him."Hello Steph Nice to meet you." "I am John Newporte the Ceo of Farmer's Girl". Famer's Girl? That is a dumb name since the store is in New York City."Nice to meet you to meet you to Mr.Newporte". I said In My Mind I Really Didn't Like John But I Needed Some Money To Go To Canada."So Tell Me Alittle About Your Self Steph"."Well" I Said "I Moved Here From Germany about two years ago looking for a job to send the money to my family back home,but I never did." "So I Went Back to Germany For The Summer and for some reason my Father had set up a arranged wedding with a Very Weathy Man that could give My Family and I even if He Died." I Stopped there because ,well, my life's pretty boring."Ahh I see so how old are" He Said. Crap I went through all that and didn't ever say how old I am?!?!?!"Sorry Sir,I am 24 years old".Why do I sound like I am talking to the King Of England?"Perfect Age for the job and you don't look a
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"Wait!" Stephen called and I puffed out a breath. I stopped but didn't face him, weighing out my options. I could keep going and head home or I could hear him out. Heavy foot steps were heard behind me until I felt a hand on my waist, whipping me around. His apple green eyes scanning me. "I want coffee" he leaned down whispering in my ear. 'Yeah! And I want your head buried between my legs!!' I thought to myself, looking at him like he was half crazy. Is he confused? "Well Steph I'm sure they have coffee here somewhere. I mean it is a grocery store..." I dryly told him. "No, you're misunderstanding me." He pulled my body closer, wrapping both warm arms around my waist. Everything felt right about what was happening, I felt safe in his embrace. His hold was inviting, strong, and protective. Felt like, home. "I want coffee at your kitchen table, after I've explored ever fucking inch of your body.."He kissed my neck so my eyes fluttered shut. Was this real? Did I hear him correctly? "Do you understand?" Stephen asked brushing a calloused thumb over my bottom lip. "Regular or Decaf?" I spoke breathlessly. This man is going to be the death of me. Stephen is just a postman in an over privileged neighborhood.
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