Now or Never: A Last Chance Romance (Part 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

want them to go out this way — unloved.  Untouched.  I feel like I should apologize to them.
    “What the fuck,” I say, tears filling my eyes.  I sit on my bed and reach into my handbag for a tissue.  Instead, I find the cocktail napkin.
    With a sniff, I unfold it and see the words written in Justin’s neat handwriting:
     
    The Now or Never List :
    1.  Kiss a stranger
    2.  Wear sexy lingerie
    3.  Go to a strip club
    4.  Have hot, anonymous oral sex
    5.  Watch people have sex
    6.  Have a one-night stand
    7.  Have sex in public/risk of getting caught
    8.  Anal
    9.  A three-way
    10.  ?
     
     
     
    The “now or never” list.
    The words trigger full on sobs.  I hadn’t seen him write that, but it’s true.
    Kiss a stranger.
    Hot, anonymous sex.
    I take off the rest of my clothes except for my underwear, and lay back on my bed.  Closing my eyes, I run my hands over my body.
    Justin might as well be in the room with me — that’s how much I feel him.  I see his face, I imagine his strong wrists and long, artistic fingers.  Moving my hand lower, over my belly, into my underwear, I’m already breathing faster.  When I touch the folds between my legs, it makes me squirm with the promise of pleasure that will follow.
    My clit is already swollen.  I think of Justin — the way he said the words “hot oral sex.” The way his face looked, bent over the bar in concentration, writing things down.  The way he looked at me, waiting to hear me speak.  I imagine him saying,
    Why waste time with a list?  Let’s get out of here.  Right now.
    I imagine us leaving, going somewhere — his place?  A hotel?  And I imagine those large, graceful hands on my body.  Let me touch you, Claire.  The way you haven’t been touched in so long…
    My pelvis feels heavy with the swell of sexual excitement.  I slip my finger lower, inside myself, with steady strokes.
    His sensual mouth is on mine, then my neck, lower, until between my legs .
    I move my hand faster, squeezing my thighs together to increase the pressure.  And then it happens, that sharp burst of pleasure, shooting through me hard and fast, like a dart.  Then ebbing, widening, like a wave.
    I pulse against my own hand, riding the orgasm, until all thoughts of reality versus fantasy are obliterated by sweet sensation.
     
    *** ***
     
    First thing in the morning, Aimee stands in the center of the cosmetics floor, beckoning for us to gather around like she is Glinda the Good Witch, and we are her little munchkins.
    Her brown hair, highlighted with chunky streaks of blond, is pulled into a neat ponytail.  Her dress is chocolate brown, falling just below the knee, cinched at the waist.  She is always dressed with extreme professionalism, but somehow it always comes off like she’s wearing a costume.  I bet if I ran into her outside the store she’d be wearing a tight shirt, black skinny jeans, and fuck-me pumps.
    It’s our morning “rally,” as in pep rally or “rally the troops.” It used to be a great start to the day — back when Beth Capezio was the department manager.  She used to share sales figures from the previous day, field ideas for product promotions, and sometimes just let us gossip like a hen club.  We could tell she loved the group, and the meeting often lasted until the second the security guards unlocked the doors for the customers at ten.
    But with Aimee, it’s clearly perfunctory — a routine dictated by Macy’s corporate.  Instead of sharing numbers to be encouraging, she holds the sales goals over our heads, never failing to remind us that we don’t want to become the department that is the “anchor” around the neck of store #448.  When we bring up ideas for sales promotions, she tells us to talk to our brand field reps, and they can present the promo to her for approval.  These may seem like small things, but it sets the tone for the department.  And since Aimee arrived, fresh from Rosemont Community College, it