Читать книгу Just 4 Play - Cindi Myers - Страница 8

JILL SHELDON BELIEVED in Happy perfume, Miracle Bras and in not letting a day go by without having fun. So when she’d seen the Help Wanted sign in the window of Just 4 Play, she’d known that was the job for her. What could be more fun than working in a toy shop?

Okay, so Just 4 Play sold sex toys and lingerie. People needed more fun in their sex lives too, didn’t they? In the six months since she’d joined the staff at Just 4 Play, Jill had had plenty of good times, on the job, and off. After all, life was too short not to have fun.

“Should the musical condoms go with the other condoms or in the novelty section?” she asked as she and her co-worker, Sid Crawford, unpacked the latest shipment of merchandise one Wednesday afternoon.

Sid frowned, his eyebrow ring shifting toward his nose. “With the novelties, I think. And rearrange the display so it looks really full. This might be the last shipment we get for a while.”

“Why is that?” She squeezed a condom package and grinned as a tinny rendition of “Bolero” filled the air.

“It’ll take a while to get all the accounts shifted over to the new owner’s name.”

She set the condoms next to a box of edible underwear. Maybe she’d shelve them with the massage oil and bill the set as a total sensual experience. “I’m going to miss old Grif.” She sighed, and paused for a moment in memory of the late Griffeth Landry, former proprietor of Just 4 Play. He’d died suddenly last month when he was struck by lightning while playing golf. All his gold fillings had melted, welding his mouth shut, a final irony for a man who had a mouth every bit as big as his heart.

“Yeah, Grif was cool.” Sid nodded, his pink Mohawk swaying with the movement.

“So what’s his nephew like?” Jill asked.

Sid shrugged. “Don’t know. Haven’t met him.”

“Oh come on. You must know something. What’s his name?”

“His name’s Mitchell Landry, but that’s all I know.”

She set aside a bottle of bubble bath and came over to lean on a tower of boxes next to Sid. “Where’s he from? Does he live here in Boulder?”

“Don’t know.”

“What does he do for a living?”

“I have no idea.”

“How old is he?”

Sid held his hands up in front of his face to ward off this barrage of questions. “I swear, I don’t know anything about him. Honest.” He slit open another carton. “You sure are nosy.”

“I like to know things. Haven’t you ever heard knowledge is power?”

“Right. When have you ever been powerless?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Never. And I don’t intend to be. Ever.”

“Guess you’re going to have to stay in the dark until Mr. Mitchell Landry decides to grace us with his presence.”

“He can’t be too old if he’s Grif’s nephew.” She smiled. “Maybe he’s young and good-looking. Maybe I could even help him try out some of the merchandise.” She held up a pair of fur-lined handcuffs.

Sid shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I just know how to have fun.”

“Yeah, but you gotta be serious sometimes.”

This from a man with pink hair, who owned more jewelry than she did. “Life’s too short to be serious,” she said. She slit open another carton and pulled out a sequined bra top. Rhinestones and faux pearls winked in the fluorescent light. Her eyes widened. “Get a load of this!”

“What’s it supposed to be? Some kind of costume?” Just 4 Play specialized in elaborate costumes for those patrons who enjoyed acting out their romantic fantasies.

“I think it’s a harem girl.” She reached into the carton and fished out a pair of filmy harem pants. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Sid shrugged and went back to unloading boxes. “Bet it’s not as popular as the French maid or Nurse Betty.”

“I don’t know, Sid. It’s pretty sexy, if you ask me.” She turned the bra top this way and that, watching the gems sparkle. “I think I’ll put it on the mannequin in the front window.”

“That’s a good idea. That black leather is going to dry out in the sun.”

She scooped up the harem pants and started toward the back of the store. “Hey, where are you going?” Sid called. “We still have another pallet of boxes to unload.”

“I want to try this on. Model it for a while.”

“Just make sure the customers know you don’t come with the merchandise.”

She grinned over her shoulder at him. “Depends on the customer.”

“Girl, you’re all talk and you know it.”

She stepped into the dressing room and drew the curtain. So maybe she wasn’t as wild as she made out to be sometimes. Half the fun was pretending. Just 4 Play was all about fun and fantasy, so what harm was there in flirting with the customers a little? She liked to think they left the store a little happier than when they’d come in and if sexy clothes and double entendres did the trick, why not?

The bra top fit snugly, accentuating her cleavage. The filmy harem pants, which she put on over a pair of pink satin panties, hung low about her waist, the shimmery gauze billowing around her legs, fastening at her ankles. She smiled at her reflection in the dressing room mirror. Not bad. This was going to be a top seller.

Now if the right man would buy it and the pirate costume…

She laughed. Grif and Sid had teased her about the Errol Flynn getup she’d convinced them to order. “What woman wouldn’t want to be swept away by a swashbuckling pirate?” she’d argued. Apparently not enough, since the costume had been gathering dust on the costume rack for six months. Still, one day, she would find a man to wear that outfit for her.

The problem with most of the men she met was that they were too serious. She’d start out thinking they were going to have a little fun and the next thing she knew, they’d be looking deeply into her eyes and talking about marriage and kids and all kinds of complicated things like that. Whatever happened to all those commitment-phobic men she’d read about? Why did she always end up with the other kind?

She shook her head and stepped out of the dressing room. “So what do you think?” she called to Sid. She raised her arms and twirled around.

He turned and surveyed her critically. “Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm goes to Arabia,” he said.

“Aww, come on. Don’t I look a little bit exotic?”

Sid shook his head. “Sorry, sweetheart, but those big blue eyes and upturned nose, not to mention the blond curls and freckles, make you look like you just stepped off the bus from the Iowa cornfields. You’d be better off with the schoolgirl costume.”

She did her best to glare at him. “It’s just because I’m short. It’s hard to look seductive when you’re only five-two.”

“Hey, don’t knock it. A lot of guys go for the wholesome look.”

“Wholesome is for milk.” She was about to stick her tongue out at him when the bells on the front door jangled and a customer walked in.

People had a lot of different attitudes when they came into Just 4 Play for the first time. Many were nervous, jingling change, giggling, even blushing. Some knew what they wanted and headed straight for it, not bothering to look at any of the other merchandise. A few apparently thought they were entering some kind of hobby shop and, realizing their mistake, quickly retreated. Couples came in holding hands, talking quietly as they studied the displays, using the shopping trip as a prelude to a more intimate encounter.

But the man in the business suit who walked in now had an attitude Jill hadn’t encountered in a customer before. From the top of his well-cut brown hair to the toes of his spit-shined wing tips, this guy was completely serious. His expression was one you’d expect to see on a banker who had just turned down your loan, and his shoulders—nice and broad, she noted—were squared like a gladiator about to do battle.

Talk about uptight, Jill thought as she glided toward him. She smiled to herself. Nothing like a challenge to get her afternoon off to a good start. By the time she was finished with Mr. Stuffed Shirt, he’d be smiling and ready to have a little fun. Judging by his sour expression, the guy hadn’t had nearly enough Vitamin F in his life lately.

“Welcome to Just 4 Play,” she said, coming up to him and purposely standing too close. “Are you a virgin?”

His eyes—a gorgeous chocolate-brown—widened. “I beg your pardon?”

She moved a little closer, her arm brushing up against his. She breathed in his spicy cologne. Aramis. A scent she’d always found particularly sexy. “Is this your first time to visit the store?”

“Yes.” He took a step away from her and glanced around. He frowned as his gaze rested on a life-size blow-up doll wearing a red satin bikini. “I see everything I’ve heard about this place is true.”

“Oh.” She took his arm and gently tugged him farther into the shop. “Good things, I hope. Are you looking for anything in particular? Something for you and your wife?”

“I’m not married.”

She smiled. So he wasn’t married. How nice.

He was still looking around the room, frowning, as if he didn’t approve. Well, they got people like that, too. But Jill figured since he’d walked through the door, he had to be a little bit interested. The trick was to play to that interest, until you found out what the customer really wanted. “Something for you and your girlfriend, then.”

That actually got a jolt out of him. He moved out of her grasp. “I don’t think my girlfriend would be interested in anything you have here.”

“She might surprise you.” They had stopped in the section of the store devoted to lingerie and costumes. “We have some very nice lingerie. Nightgowns and teddies. Our garter belts are very popular as well.” She held up a lacy black number. “Picture her in this, with some silk stockings and stiletto heels.”

A faint flush of red showed on his tanned cheeks. “That’s not why I came in here.”

Jill grinned and laid the garter belt aside. Who was it who said still waters run deep? She bet Mr. Starched Shorts here would be a real tiger if he let himself go a little. “Maybe you’d prefer something more sensual.” She took his hand and led him toward a display of massage oils—a good place to start for novices. As they passed the front window, sunlight caught the rhinestones on her bra top, scattering reflections.

“What is that you’re wearing?” her customer demanded.

She paused and held up her hands, giving a little belly-dancer shimmy. “This is part of our fantasy costume collection. Would you like to see others?”

The man’s gaze swept over her, more intimate than a caress. She fought the urge to cross her arms over her breasts, shielding herself from his intense gaze. He definitely needed to learn to lighten up. “People actually wear those things somewhere besides Halloween parties?”

The amusement in his voice relaxed her. “Of course. Couples enjoy acting out their romantic fantasies. For instance, the man might dress as a cowboy, complete with leather chaps. Or our construction worker tool belt is very popular.” Her grin widened. Her customer would look very nice in that particular costume. “Or a woman might dress as a French maid, or a nurse.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a sexy purr. “What’s your fantasy, sir? I’m sure we’ve got something to help you fulfill it.”

His eyes locked to hers, warning her she’d asked the wrong question. Or the right one. The raw emotion she glimpsed before the polished facade moved into place once more hinted at a man with unplumbed depths. A man who kept his feelings in chains, waiting for the woman with the right key to free them….

She looked away, her cheeks warm, like a child who’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to see.

He stepped back. “I’m not interested in fantasy at the moment, I—”

“We also have some wonderful instructional books on sensual massage.” Telling herself she was silly to let a stranger make her lose her cool, she took his hand again and tugged him toward an old-fashioned wardrobe filled with brightly colored bottles and jars. “And we have these flavored massage oils. They’re very popular with both men and women.” She unscrewed the cap on a tester bottle of cinnamon massage oil. She felt him watching her, and shivers of awareness danced across her bare skin.

“Did you know they’ve actually done surveys showing that one of the most arousing scents for men is the smell of baking cinnamon rolls?” She dabbed a bit of the oil on the inside of her wrist and held it out to him. “Doesn’t that smell wonderful?”

His fingers around her wrist were strong and warm. Long, sensitive fingers, the kind that could bring a lot of pleasure to a woman, if he knew how to use them. And something told her this man knew how to use all his assets. He brought her wrist to his nose and inhaled deeply, eyes closing for a second. His lips were so close to her skin she could feel the heat of his breath and her knees began to turn to jelly. She wanted to pull away from his grasp, but couldn’t find the strength. What was going on here?

He opened his eyes and his gaze locked with hers once more, intense and searching. Serious, as if her flirting act hadn’t fazed him one bit. He looked right past her frivolous costume and teasing manner, to a part of herself she never let anyone see.

She jerked away from him, startled. Now where had that come from? What was he doing looking at her that way—and why? “Um…maybe you’d better tell me why you came in here and I’ll see if someone can help you,” she said, avoiding his gaze. And the someone wouldn’t be her. She replaced the bottle of oil and rubbed her bare shoulders, trying to banish chill bumps. She was used to being the one in control and she didn’t like it that a stranger could take over a situation so quickly.

“I’m looking for the manager,” he said, his voice portraying no hint that anything out of the ordinary had passed between them.

“Sure. That’s Sid. He’s in back unloading new stock.” She straightened, forcing confidence back into her voice. “Tell me your name and I’ll go get him.”

“It’s Landry. Mitchell Landry. I’m the new owner of this place.”