by M. L. Joslyn
IN ANYONE ELSE’S SHOES
An erotic novella by M.L. Joslyn
Published by Accent Press Ltd – 2013
ISBN 9781909624429
Copyright © M.L. Joslyn 2013
The right of M.L. Joslyn to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter One
A wedge of moonlight landed in dashes atop the acid-etched, concrete floor of Untamed Soles, a trendy ladies’ shoe store on Scottsdale Road. With a large brass key, Emma locked the heavy front door behind Jan and Rachel, her hardest working part-timers, and then paced purposely to her office, scraping past freshly neatened steel-pipe display racks and a maze of black leather couches.
Mismatched pairs of slingbacks, and clipboards choked with redundant sales forms, clogged her tiny workspace at the back of the store. A single swivel chair and metal desk hogged most of the room. The top of the desk was exceptionally organised, like the rest of the store, and supported just five items: a telephone, legal pad, can of Diet Coke, a half-eaten red velvet cupcake, and a small, porcelain, heart shaped bowl crowded with business cards. Twenty minutes of paperwork, and I should be out of here, she thought. The phone warbled its urgent cry and Emma reached for it, knocking over her freshly opened soda.
‘Emma Green, manager, how may I help you?’
‘Hi Em-Em! Why aren’t you out of there yet?’
‘Alyssa, damn you! I just spilled my soda everywhere. Thanks. Not.’
‘I know you very well, Em. I’m guessing that isn’t the first thing you’ve spilled today.’
She was right, but Emma wasn’t about to divulge her first-rate chicken salad on a third-rate paper plate story. ‘Very funny, Alyssa. Why are you calling now anyway? Aren’t you anxious to get out of your store and into the arms of one of your stud muffin boy toys?’
‘I left my store 20 minutes ago, hon. What takes you so long? Oh, that’s right – everything has to be perfectly arranged and merchandised before you’ll set your poor employees free for the night.’
‘Maybe that’s why my store tends to look, you know, much better than yours. And I’m certain my work ethic has nothing to do with why my numbers are consistently higher than “Miss Alyssa’s Sorry I Can’t Find the Mate” shoe shack. And don’t start with the “your location is so much better than mine” routine.’
‘Oh, my dear, dear Em-Em. Aah. We have got to get you laid. And, by the way, we both manage Untamed Soles. They’re identical stores. The only possible reason my store’s sales aren’t as bonus-worthy as yours is that you have the primo spot, and that’s all I’m saying.’
‘Do you always have to sigh when you mention my personal life, Alyssa? I’m fine. I’ve always been fine. In fact, I’m crazy good. Now, cut it out.’
‘Now, that could be why your sales are superior to mine. You are an excellent bullshitter, Emma Green! C’mon, let me set you up with someone. They’ll be hot – I promise. You have got to get over that jerk, Ty.’
Emma was over Ty. At least, that’s what she’d tell herself when she bumped into him in their shared apartment. They had split up amicably a month ago, but he was never around, and they agreed it made no sense for them to break their lease. Two separate bedrooms, one separated couple. And besides, they were somehow able to maintain a semblance of a friendship, which included all the friendship perks – when he was around.
‘How many guys do you know, anyway?’ Emma asked derisively. ‘Do you keep a couple dozen neatly folded in your dresser?’
‘Yes! And that’s just my dresser!’
‘I’m sure. Listen, thanks for the offer, sweetie, but I’m going to dry off my desk, do a little paperwork, and head home. And Alyssa … Be careful, OK? In every bunch of bananas, there’s likely to be a rotten one.’
‘I love you, Em-Em! Don’t work too hard! You’re letting your good years slip away. It’s time for you to let loose … maybe just a little? OK, hon. Muah! Bye!’
Emma pressed a pen to the daily sales summary report, but couldn’t focus. Her best friend’s last comment was spot on – as usual. Alyssa was quirky and more than a bit feral at times, but she was also one of the sharpest pins in the cushion, and had had Emma pegged from day one. “You’re letting your good years slip away.” That’s what a girl wants to hear a month from her 34th birthday.
Emma’s thoughts strayed further, to her ex-boyfriend. Ty was good for her – at least for most of the two years she’d been with him. He was comfortable and fun … and hot. Just thinking about his thick mop of sandy blond hair made Emma wet. Tall, solid, and meaty in all the right places, he seemed the perfect fit for her. And he would have been, if it weren’t for the one love he cherished more than her – his advertising agency. Ty Anders and Anders Advertising: inseparable mates joined at the hip or, more accurately, the wallet.
She should have known from the day she first laid eyes on him in a clichéd, cramped bar at Phoenix Sky Harbor airport. She was anxiously awaiting her flight to Vegas for a quarterly regional store managers’ meeting. He was sitting at a two-top, his legs stretched out, polished Cole Haans looking smooth on his crossed feet. He toyed with his vodka, cubes spinning inside the tumbler like race cars around a track. God, was he gorgeous! He looked up from the Ad Age that had him gripped like a teenage boy with a found Penthouse. Their eyes met, and she was history. Those deep blue eyes – yum. He was headed to a business meeting in LA; she was headed for two years of an unreliable boyfriend and sporadic but amazing sex.
Amazing sex was the one bet still in play – the one reliable in an otherwise volatile romance – and she wanted it, needed it, now. A smattering of guilt fought futilely against her horniness. She was, for all intents and purposes, done with him. He made a choice, and she was fine with it. She no longer loved him. She just wanted to fuck him occasionally. She knew that if he was home, he’d be interested as well. Her scruples tossed to the trash, she hurried to finish her paperwork.
Emma and Ty’s unpretentious, two-bedroom apartment perched atop a three-storey, white stucco building in downtown Scottsdale. The property anchored a quiet neighbourhood but was only a short walk from a mass of clamorous, trendy bars and kitschy souvenir shops.
Emma was certain Ty would be at the apartment, and that he would be alone. He had texted her a little earlier, asking if she minded if he ate one of her Lean Cuisines. This wasn’t something he’d ever consider unless his pants were already in a pile on his bedroom floor and he was too comfortable to throw them back on for a drive-through run. And there was no way he would ever let anyone but Emma see his steel-strong hands in the same zip code as a Lean Cuisine.
Plotting out an evening of sex with Ty was a fun diversion for Emma. The mental imagery she conjured on her drive home, however, did not mix well with her slim fit boot cuts. She could not wait to peel the clammy slacks from her heated, primed body. Maybe a quick shower first. She parked her aging Volvo in a familiar space and headed inside.
Ty wasn’t in front of the TV engrossed in one of his team’s futile battles, as Emma suspected he’d be. She scanned the room, hoping for a clue to his whereabouts, and her eyes fell to a small, framed picture resting atop the coffee table. It was a beach photo of Ty and her, taken a year earlier during a weekend getaway to San Diego. They looked to be such a happy couple in their salt-pummelled swim suits, arms laced together and Emma’s wavy, walnut brown hair whirling about from the ocean breeze. They seemed a bulletproof pair. Emma reached for the picture with both hands, and held it closer. Ty’s gaze fixed on her hazel eyes; Emma was captivated by his tilted smile. She could remember how much they wanted each other. She wanted him now.
Inching further into the apartment, she heard a volley of pulsing water. It was coming from his bathroom. Perfect! She’d join him in the shower. Emma padded to her bedroom, careful not to knock anything over or trip on some invisible rise in the carpet.
She stripped quickly, hoping to join Ty before he finished showering. The thought of him naked, alone with a bar of soap, almost brought her to her knees.
This was just what she needed. He was her prince in the bedroom, but she was his princess in the shower. She couldn’t wait to feel his steel-strong hands massage scented body wash gently over her skin – just like the last time. He liked to stand behind her so she could feel his hard cock press against her. She would have no doubt that he was ready for her, but he was only beginning his assault. With his fingers splayed across her back, he’d work his way slowly to her toes, lathering, massaging, kissing – pausing only to look into her eyes. His knees would bend to the floor, water streaming over his golden locks, and she would watch, a teasing warmth spreading low in her belly, as he kneaded each toe with his soapy fingers. Then he’d work his way back up, not missing an inch of her. He would graze her pussy with his tongue on his way to her breasts, but he’d be back – oh yeah, he’d be back.
Emma tapped gently on the unfastened bathroom door and it fluttered open a little, exposing a slice of the glass-enclosed shower. Ty was turned from her, and she nudged the door wider to better spy his broad shoulders and tight ass through the misty, water-drenched glass.
‘Hey, handsome. Like some company?’
Ty turned at the voice, but said nothing. Emma already had one step inside the enclosure when she spotted one of his meaty hands wrapped tight around his stiff, reddened cock. He milked it for a second, then it erupted towards her, coating her skin with splashes of pearly cream.
‘Hi, Em. I wasn’t expecting you.’
Really? ‘Hey, no problem. I should’ve called.’
Ty shrugged and reached for his towel. Emma turned up the hot water and backed under the spray. Through beads of fog coating the glass, she watched Ty wrap the towel around his waist. He clicked the door shut behind him.
Emma let the steamy warmth stream over her, a rinse she sorely needed. She wasn’t mad, or upset. She had dealt with those emotions a month ago. She and Ty had separate lives, separate friends, and separate ambitions. It was surprising that they were able to maintain any sort of relationship, as it were.
Ty was 35; it was time for him to make his move in the business world. He had devoted a lot, if not all, of himself to his agency, and it was paying off. His clients loved him, and why not? He took excellent care of them. They snapped their fingers, and he was on a plane to Nevada or New Mexico or wherever they needed him to be.
It wasn’t fair for Emma to think of Ty as a selfish lover. She was as devoted to her work. The store she managed wasn’t huge, but there were lots of Untamed Soles around the country, and her company was growing rapidly. She’d been ready to take on more responsibility at work for a while now, but, with only two stores in the Phoenix market, she’d gone as far as she could without relocating.
Retail being retail, Emma logged a lot of hours every week. She had been as unyielding as Ty when it came to her availability for a relationship. She was good with that, and Ty was good with that. Maybe if they really loved each other they would have found a way to make it work. Maybe it was never anything more than just physical attraction.
Emma wrapped herself in a thick towel and left the bathroom. She grabbed a quick glance into Ty’s room when she noticed his door slightly ajar. He appeared to be asleep already, sprawled face down on his king-size mattress. His head was buried in a pillow, his arms wrapped tight around it – like he was holding on for dear life. She smiled, and stepped softly to her room.
Chapter Two
‘Rachel, I could kiss you! What did I do to deserve such a sweetie?’
‘The kiss won’t be necessary, Emma – a raise, maybe? Oh, and that’s not why I left the cupcake on your desk. I just happened to be buying some anyway …’
‘And you just happened to remember that chocolate coconut is my favourite flavour – a week before reviews. You will go far here, Rachel. And, by the way, you’re a fantastic sales person and a hard worker. That’s why you’ll succeed. Chocolaty gifts will get you there twice as fast, but … Just kidding. Keep up the great work.’
Emma collapsed into her desk chair, exhausted from a busy morning of work and a night of little sleep. She picked at the icing on her cupcake, savouring each taste. The phone rang, but she let one of the girls up front answer. This was her first break of the day – likely her only break of the day.
‘Emma?’ Bailey Lundermann, a new hire Emma had liberated from a big-box competitor a week earlier, called out in a soft voice, tapping lightly on the open door. ‘Alyssa Tanner on line one for you?’
‘Thanks, Bailey. Would you mind shutting my door? I’ll take it in here.’ Once she was alone, she addressed her best friend warmly. ‘Hi, Alyssa – closing early?’
‘Very funny, Em-Em. I was calling to be nice, but maybe I’ll have to shift gears.’
‘Nice? Wait – let me check my calendar. It must be a holiday.’
‘It is a holiday, hon. What are you wearing?’
‘You scare me sometimes, Alyssa – forget I said sometimes. I won’t ask why you want to know, although I’m thinking it’s best I not tell you, whatever the reason.’ Emma took another stab at the coconut icing, her pinkie finger knuckle deep in goodness.
‘Come over after work. I’m cooking. I’m actually barbecuing. It’s a barbecue!’
‘Yeah? Who else is coming?’
‘Just the two of us – probably.’
‘Don’t mess with me sweetie. Is this another of your attempts at making my life everything you’d want it to be? What’s his name?’
‘No name, no guys, just food and gossip – and maybe some vodka? Oh, speaking of douchey guys, have you talked to our new Regional VP yet?’
‘I haven’t, but he left me a long voicemail this morning about our next inventory. I don’t know what’s douchey about him. I thought his voice actually sounded kind of … nice?’
‘Aah, there’s my Em-Em. You were going to say sexy, weren’t you? You think our new RVP sounds hot, huh? I think he sounds like he’s 12, or 14, or whenever that is that a boy’s voice changes to a man’s.’
‘He did sound a little young, didn’t he? But I thought he sounded pretty sharp. Give this one some slack, won’t you? I swear you were responsible for driving Robert away.’
‘Bob. His name was Bob. And he was a true geek asshole. Last I heard he was in the hospital, getting a sense of humour transplant. About time. Now, come over after work. I’ve already bought the filets. Steaks, Emma, steaks! And, I promise there’s dessert, and you’ll love it! See ya at six, hon! Let Rachel close. Muah!’
Emma placed the phone in its cradle, let out a deep breath, and shook her head. Her friend was a kook, but, in spite of all her foibles, she was a real gem. Emma scraped at the icing remnants with her pinkie. Her nail caught on an obscured spike of cake and her little chocolate treasure rolled to the edge of the desk and tumbled to the floor with a thud.
Alyssa opened the door just as Emma was about to knock.
‘Em-Em!�
�� Alyssa wrapped her arms around her best friend and squeezed tight. ‘Come in! Let me fix you something to drink.’
‘I’m going to grab some water for now, if you don’t mind. I’m so parched, I might hurt myself if I start with something harder.’
‘I don’t want to drink alone, and I’ve already made a pretty good dent in my first, so don’t be long – please? Come – I just put the steaks on the grill.’
Emma followed Alyssa to her patio, attempting to suppress the envy she endured each time she sauntered through her friend’s house. It wasn’t the sort of home you could walk through. It was definitely a saunter through kind of place. From the beautiful light maple flooring to the overstuffed, creamy leather furniture, soft putty-coloured walls and flagstone-decked Caribbean blue pool, it was more than nice. It was “somebody loves me very, very much” nice. Alyssa would always credit her wealthy parents. Emma had other thoughts.
Alyssa opened the French doors leading to the back yard and Emma caught her profile in the diminishing light. Although on the cusp of 30, Alyssa still possessed a credulous, childlike glow. Her short, straight dark hair – approaching black – ringed her face in such a way it seemed she should be running out to the playground for recess instead of tending to steaks on a grill. Petite, yet well-upholstered, she was an imp of a woman; her devilish eyes not an imperfection, but an omen.
‘So, how’s Ty?’ Alyssa asked, more than a trace of sarcasm rimming her words.
‘He’s Ty,’ Emma responded.
‘He still buttering your muffin?’
‘Actually, could we talk about something else? How were your numbers today?’
‘Aah, Em-Em-Em-Em. The cook’s glazing someone else’s doughnut, isn’t he? That’s OK, babe. There are plenty of cooks out …’
‘He’s not glazing anyone else’s …whatever. That’s not the problem. We’re just not together any more. You know that.’