Primal Scream (Box Set #1, Taboo Sex + AFF) (28 page)

“
Thirty…two?” Drea thought she should have cut three to five years off her estimate, to make it sound that he looked younger.

His gaze shifted down for a moment—“I just look mature…”

Oops,
Drea said to herself. She felt a little bad. She was just being honest. He was very unlike some of the frat boys closer to her age.

“
I’m the same age as you.”

HOLY FUCK!
Drea had to stop herself from exclaiming. “Oh…” she said, wondering how to manage this
faux pas
she was in. “Yes, you really are mature—you’re not like a twenty-three year old at all.”

From the way he stood, to the sharp way he dressed, from his natural confidence, and unhurried, calculative touches…he was really just mature, in both speech and presentation.

She was glad he replied in that he was “the same age” in a matter-of-fact kind of way, not in an insulted tone—she’d had felt really bad, if she’d made him feel bad. He was very tactful, suave, and savvy.

Drea had been standing for a while, listening to him rattle on about the products, and chattering about other things midway. All of her listened to him, if and whenever one of his hands made contact with her skin or body.

He was going to go as far as he could, professionally and publically.

Drea didn’t ask the manager anything about himself—his birthday, how long he’d been in Singapore, et cetera. For now, she was very content not knowing anything about him, because she was totally enjoying JUST his touches—that and his attention made up the entire time they had spent interacting with each other, so far.

She didn’t know if she was seeing things, or if he’d just given her a look that betrayed his calm exterior. Even though he was saying something about the evils of acne, “the look” he gave her said it all. It was sweeping, from her head to her toes, and his eyes seemed to linger on hers. She thought she saw the beginning of a tentative smile, on his soft, plump lips. It took her breath away, for a moment.

“
Why don’t you sit over here?”

He gestured to a lower white swivel chair, at the other side of the kiosk.

“
Never mind, I can stand…” Drea said. She wondered what time it was, and whether he spent this long chatting with each customer. She took a glance at the Lee Hwa employee, who was still standing at the entrance, hands folded behind his back. He averted his gaze, again.

“
Sit
down,” Nir said, convincing her into doing it his way, with his persuasive voice and heavenly smile. “It’ll be more comfortable for you.”

Drea gave a silent sigh. “Fine, I’ll sit down coz you
asked
me to,” she said coyly, and fairly compliantly, without a hint of anger or disdain.

The chair started slowly swiveling to the right side, once Drea had taken a seat. She was absent-mindedly staring at the white counter in front of her—she hadn’t been getting enough sleep for the past few nights, and was starting to feel her eyelids get heavy.

Nir deftly put one of his legs in between Drea’s knees, to swivel the chair around so that she was facing him—it was the hottest move Drea had ever known in her entire life.

He held his leg steady, as he turned around to reach for another sample, going on some more about one of the products, as she stifled a perplexed grin. Her legs were kept slightly parted by his knee—she sat still, facing his jeans—a very nice, darkwash metallic cool color, the urban designer type that fashionable guys wore. There was a stirring in her inner thighs—she’d just have to move a little bit forward, and she’d have his knee gripped in between her bare, smooth thighs. She was almost exactly at the level of his crotch, and couldn’t help but think:
Can I just go down on you, as payment for the products?

Drea tried not to look at his eyes too much. His touch made her see him as a kind of demi-God, or savior, an angel from above, heralding a possible salvation from inevitable self-destruction, if Drea failed to separate her sexual desires from Jack.

“
How long have you been away from Singapore?” Nir asked. He remembered she’d said something about the products she used not working in Australia.

“
Since 2008.”

“
That’s quite a long time.”

“
How long have you been here?” It was the first question she asked him.

“
I’ve been here since…last November.”

About eight months,
Drea calculated. That was quite a long while too. “Where are you from?”

“
Is-ra-el,” he said in a proud and “didn’t you know?” tone.

Drea thought of Istanbul, even though Istanbul was technically the unofficial capital of Turkey, not Israel. The skincare manager’s features seemed to be a gorgeous mixture of east and west. Drea thought maybe it reflected the area in which he came from. Istanbul’s architectural buildings looked spectacular. Maybe that was why the citizens in the area looked so good too. They were perpetually living, breathing in, and surrounded by good aesthetics.

Nir thought she had intelligence, a sense of humor, untapped debauchery, and a wicked grin with eyes that could smile. He considered those qualities a turn on.

“
Cool,” was all Drea could manage, with a dreamy smile. Her brain was smudge—she was just about to reach out for his crotch zipper—she wanted his meat in her mouth—
this hot Israeli Dude,
she referred to him, since he hadn’t given his name yet—

“
You’re very pretty—acne only,” Nir said, in an equally partial daydreamy kind of manner. He moved his leg out from between her knees, when he reached for a wide flat jar of bath salt crystals. He was wondering how far he could go with Drea. He’d always kept business and pleasure separate, but might this be the first exception?

Drea was all smiles at the compliment. He reached forward, lightly tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear. It was a gentle move that made her squeeze her legs harder together. She wanted his leg in between hers, again.

“
You can use this on your body,” he said, showing her the salt crystals. “The products to use on the face are gentler.”

“
I don’t know if it’s rash or acne, on my back,” Drea said, partly as a matter of fact, and partly to get him to touch her again.

He took a sneak peek down her top at the back—Drea crossed her fingers that he didn’t see much.
A bit of acne on the upper back. Denim bra. I’m wearing a nice denim bra. His hand is on my back again. YES!

“
Yes, that’s acne,” Nir said, and elaborated on how the salt crystals could be used once a week to exfoliate the dead skin cells off, all the while subjecting Drea to a second, superhot back-stroking session. As he spoke of how some people had acne “lower down the back,” his hand was reaching and stopping at the curve of her waist…Drea felt his warm hand resting at the curve just where her hip began…before he said “and some people get acne lower, on the butt.”

Drea had never heard of that before, but she didn’t care—his hand stopped at the lowest part of her back, and he backed off from touching her ass.
DAMN!
Drea thought. Still, this was still going on in full public view—he was so daring and discreet at the same time.
Maybe he’s a Libra…
Drea mused.

“
Single? Boyfriend?”

Single,
Drea replied in her mind. But Jack immediately came to mind. And apoplexy-inducing as it was, she still was latched on to Jack the Riddle. He still figured in the picture. If she slept with this Israeli Dude, she felt she’d be letting Jack down somehow. She was still stuck in the integrity of their mutual sexual awakening, eons ago.

For the briefest of moments, she wondered why Nir was asking. He appeared to be listening and responding to what she said, but that could be part of his sales repertoire. Maybe his real question was, “Are you seeing anyone?” But Drea put it aside—it was just part of the conversation, and something that was always on a Libra’s mind anyway, if the manager was indeed, a debonair Libra, as she suspected.

Drea gazed away for a while before replying, “Sin-gle.” She didn’t bother to ask what about the Israeli Dude…even though she usually did in a conversation, if she was asked about her relationship status. She wanted it that way, not showing any interest in knowing him...yet allowing him to go right ahead. He had proceeded in stages so far—first, with the hand stroke, then her shoulder, then the back-stroking, and his leg between her knees…

His movements started to get a little more rushed—he’d just noticed the time on his watch: 4.32pm.

He threw in the freebie cleanser and toner into a white plastic carrier, and handed her three jars of the sea salt crystals, to choose the scent she liked best. Drea had never really liked lavender—she went with the second jar, labeled ‘pear’.
The ‘energizing’ scent,
Nir noted to himself.

“
I only give heavy discounts for special customers…” Nir let her know. He was charging her half the price of the items she had in tow in the bag he handed her. He’d have to make up for the losses with the next unsuspecting customer he managed to nab.

The amount came up to slightly less than $200—the bag was heavy, with five to six items. Suddenly, the cash amount didn’t seem so much of a big deal anymore, to Drea. She’d gladly pay for the half an hour she’d spent with him. The products were just a bonus.

“
Thanks so much, I’ll tell all my friends to shop here…”

She handed over her black plastic debit card, heart sinking a little that the encounter was reaching a close. She’d decided that whatever she had in her mind would probably remain a fantasy. She couldn’t really expect him to bed a customer, could she?

“
This is my namecard…” he said, handing her a slim card—black text printed on a parchment-colored background. She only just noticed the company name, along with his name, finally.

==========

ZIVAH: Dead Sea Natural Beauty

Nir Balsar (Sales Manager)

==========

There was a telephone, cell phone, and email address on the card too.

“
Call me in a month’s time, and update me on how the products are working for you. And before you go…”

Drea waited. She was just about to get up from the low, white swivel seat.

Nir went in very close to her, keeping his gaze on the debit card and receipt he was handling. He was furtive, and stealing the moment for them to share. “May I have a kiss?
Here
—”

He showed Drea his cheek, still keeping his gaze on the counter. He wanted to be as discreet as possible. He was doing an excellent job.

“
Why?” Drea asked quite coyly, in the same low, soft tone he’d spoken in.

“
Because I have been so nice to you…”

“
That’s true.” Drea couldn’t dispute the fact.