I peddled past a colorful candy shop. I u-turned in the road to return to it. The shop windows had the painted words, Sweet Treats, on both sides. I had a bit of a sweet tooth now that I was on the wagon. I parked my bike in front of the brick building. It looked empty inside but I twisted the doorknob and walked in the door.
Charming little bells rang upon my arrival. Not a bit different from my regular life.
“Hey good morning.” I heard the voice of an angel coming from up above.
I saw her standing at the top of a ladder against a wall.
“Morning.” I cleared my throat. I had to pronounce my words carefully just to get them right. “Are you open?”
“Yes, I am.” She smiled. She was gorgeous, a complete knockout. Her smile was killer. She was a sunny shade of brown, her hair was dark, almost black and so were her eyes. My type! Any man’s type! They have stunning girls like her in this town? After a quick consensus, I believe I can stand this place after all.
“There’s a sign in the window.” My mouth moved to make random conversation.
“Yes, yes, you’re here about the job?”
“Yes.” I lied. I didn’t see that sign. I was referring to the, we sell candy sign but I played along because I wanted to stare at her for a bit longer. I also wanted to play with her— adult play. I was nervous and feared I would say the wrong thing. My stomach, my throat, she was just that lovely.
“My sister Cherise talked to you on the phone.” She looked down at me with dark chocolate for eyes.
“Yes, Cherise, your sister, talked to me.” A little fib, I don’t know this Cherise.
“Listen, I have to be honest. This job is unusual hours and it doesn’t pay much.”
“Not a problem. I don’t need much pay.” I tried to keep my eyes off her ass. I failed in my attempt. Hopefully, she didn’t catch me.
“It’s straightforward and very boring here. There are a lot of kids that come in here. Can you deal with sugared-up children?”
“Yes, I like kids,” I said creepily.
“Well, it’s selling candy, unpacking candy, cleaning and that’s about it. Not as glamorous as working at one of the ritzy new tourist hotels.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to talk me out of an honest day’s work.”
Her face lit up. “No, no way. I need help around here.”
“I’m here to help you.” Christ, she was sexy on a ladder. She would be so sexy on my cock.
“Well, that’s good the hear. I’m the owner Katrina Sweet.” She started climbing down the ladder.
“Please be careful.” I rushed over to break her fall if it came to that. I was behind the counter in a flash. I reached out to shake her extended hand. I looked into her deep brown eyes because I knew my eyes were very much interested in her bum. We shook hands and hers were soft. My palms might be adequate to the touch, but my fingertips were rotten from strumming Vicky.
This lovely lady Katrina, her smile knocked me out. Not literally but I felt woozy without the benefit of drugs. I was honestly feeling a bit under the influence. This can’t be good.
“I’m Katrina Sweet. Oh Lord, I said that already.” She giggled.
“Kat,” I said because she seemed like a sultry little kitty cat.
“Kat, no one ever calls me Kat.” Her smile indicated she didn’t mind the nickname. I’m sorry I don’t remember your name. Cherise told me but I can’t remember. My memory is terrible and I have a lot of things going on today.” She twirled her fingers around in the air.
I got a divine whiff of her. She carried a seductive scent of flowers or something girly and great.
“My name, my name is Jason, Jason Smith.” I wanted this job. I needed it. I was bored to pieces at the eco-friendly sober house. I wouldn’t be bored in her presence. I needed something to do outside of that therapeutic prison. Dr. David should be okay with this. He has to be. I have to have this. I have to have her.
Kat looked from my eyes to my chest. “You are tall.”
“Yes, I am. I’m a hundred ninety-three centimeters.” She flashed a blank stare at me. “I’m six-four. Yea, so you never need to get up on another ladder while I’m here. It’s rather dangerous.”
“It was more heavy than dangerous.” She added. “It’s so heavy.”
“You carried it?”
“Yes, up the stairs, from the basement. I thought I was going to through my back out.” She giggled the sexiest giggle in all of America. “I banged up my shoulder.” She rubbed her shoulder quickly.
“That’s not good. Your real last name is Sweet?” I couldn’t believe I paid attention and remembered her words. I spend a lot of time tuning most women out and forgetting whatever name they gave me.
“Yes, that’s my real last name, the one I was born with. I changed it when I got married but when I got divorced I changed it right back. I’m back to Sweet.”
Oh yes, you are.
I wanted to taste her to see if that was true inside and out. Was she really sweet? Was she candy-coated? I smiled with all my teeth just to block out all my sexual thoughts. It didn’t work. There were too many. I imagined sucking her neck, her lips, her chin, her collarbone.
Words, maybe saying words would snap me out my trance.
“Sweet, that name fits you perfectly.”
“You think so?” She wrinkled her nose.
“Yes.” Because your skin looks so deliciously lick-able.
“Is Jason Smith your real name?”
“Yes.” A slight panic hit me. I didn’t know if she was joking. Did she really think I was lying?
“That’s a common name.”
“Yes, it is. Good thing I’m not common.”
Her eyes squinted, as she looked
