Chapter One

 

There were jobs, and then there were jobs. As jobs went, this wasn't much of a job, Zoey thought, sighing as she scanned the doorway, waiting for her next target to walk through.

She had been hired through an agency to work for the day at Norwich, one of the city's more expensive department stores. She didn't work for Norwich, however, but for the agency, and the agency was supplying her on behalf of Storm, a men's cologne maker.

Her 'job' was to persuade men who came through the main entrance - which happened to lead through the Fragrance section, who had no interest in cologne, to pause and let her spray a little bit on their wrist so they saw how pleasant he scent was.

To help prevent men from simply brushing by her with a curt 'no', the cologne maker had told the agency, which had told her, to wear something... attractive and sexy, but demure, and not slutty or revealing. That had caused her to tear through her closet trying to find something she owned which would fulfill their ridiculous requirements.

What she'd finally settled on, and gotten approved, was a forest green sweater dress. It had long sleeves, slightly puffy shoulders, and was fairly tight across the chest. Its design incorporated crisscrossing rope lines which thickened, once they reached her waist, looking like pleats once they reached the hem, which was quite, quite short.

She hadn't worn the dress in several years, not since she was sixteen. She'd grown a couple of inches since then, and not simply in height. The dress was a bit tighter across her chest than she was entirely comfortable with, in addition to being shorter than she'd ever worn.

She wore black nylons under the sweater dress, and black high heels. Her long chestnut hair hung loose down her back and across her shoulders, with thick bangs cutting across her forehead. She looked demure, but sexy, or so the decision had been made by the agency.

Zoey herself was a bit doubtful. She kept fingering the hem and tugging on it, as if she could pull it just a little lower. This was not a nightclub with dark lights and crowds. She was in a very, very brightly lit, wide open area with people coming and going all the time, adult type people.

Norwich did not generally cater to the teen set, after all.

But, a day's work was a day's work, and she needed whatever she could get. It wasn't like she had had a lot of luck finding permanent work since she'd quit her waitress job because Billy, the very married manager with the big belly, got too touchy-feely.

If she didn't find something soon she was going to have to approach her parents to see if she could move back home, and that was a horrible thought given how much she and her mother had been fighting when she'd left just a year ago.

She saw a man enter alone, and braced herself, forcing a perky smile on her face as she approached. He was a fairly rumpled looking middle-aged man in a brown suit. It was a quality suit, of course. No one poor shopped at Norwich, where a shirt could easily cost $500.

"Good afternoon, sir," she said in her perkiest voice. "Would you care to try a small sample of Storm's newest men's fragrance?" she asked with a hopeful look.

He hesitated, his eyes flicking down and then almost guiltily back up again.

Yes, my legs go all the way down, mister, she thought cynically.

"Uhm, I don't usually wear cologne," he said.

"I don't usually wear perfume, but there are certain occasions when it can help make that particular impression you want on first meeting," she said with a certainty she lacked.

"Uhm, well, okay," he said.

She beamed at him, and sprayed a dab on the back of his wrist, telling him that it had been carefully analyzed to ensure it gave a subtle scent which others identified with success, wealth and strength.

He grinned at her.

"Thanks," he said, moving on.

"And thank you for trying our sample, sir!" she said perkily.

He walked on, and she was fairly sure he'd glance back to check her out again and remember when he was a teenager and had a chance with girls like her.

Zoey was already looking for her next target, of course, though she reflected unhappily that in another four months she wouldn't be a teenager any more, either. She did NOT want to be a jobless twenty year old with no prospects! So what the hell was she going to do to find a real job?

Another men walked into the store, but her mind froze as he approached. He was a big man, well over six feet in height, chick chested, with a narrow waist. He moved with a determined stride and a closed mouthed look that warned everyone to stay back and not get in his way.

He was an extremely handsome man, with deep blue eyes, sensuous lips, and a strong jaw to go with his short, wavy brown hair. He was probably in his early thirties, which was way too old for Zoey but she stared at him anyway, open-mouthed, feeling an incredible wave of... attraction.

He looked so incredibly male! And not blue-collar, working class, musky sweat as he swung a hammer male, either. No, this man looked like a general, like an emperor, like someone who gave orders and expected them to be instantly obeyed.

Zoey quite forgot to breathe!

It didn't even occur to her to dare to stand in this man's way, to try to stop him and get him to let her spritz him with cologne. It didn't even occur to her to move as she stared at him approaching like a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching car.

And then the man's steely eyed look, which had been focused ahead of him as if nothing else existed, shifted, his eyes flickering to her, very briefly, then back again, for a more lingering look. And then, to her shock, he altered course slightly and then stopped!

Zoey tiled her head up and back, then snapped her lips closed as he looked at her almost expectantly!

"Perfume sampler?" he asked, in a deep, slightly gravelly voice.

His voice seemed to set off a kind of echo within her belly, which resonated right down between her legs!

"Uh... I... y-yes, sir!" she gulped.

And then she remembered.

"Uhm, I mean, actually, uhm, it's cologne!" she exclaimed. "Men's cologne!"

His face softened somewhat, his lips quirking upward.

"Is there such a thing as women's cologne?" he asked.

Zoey blushed.

"And aren't you going to offer me some?" he asked in a softer voice. "I am, I think, a man."

God, was he ever!

"I uhm, of course!" she gulped. "I mean, if you'd like!"

"Will I like it?"

"Well, ahm, of course, fragrances are a personal thing," she said. "I mean, I like it."

'Then I'm sure I'll like it," he said, holding out his hand.

It was a very big hand! And when he turned it she saw there was a glittering gold watch on his wrist that probably cost more than she made last year!

In fact, the suit he wore, which fit him like a second glove, was charcoal gray and double breasted, with a thick collar and a dark blue silk tie under the vest. It screamed wealth, not merely money. You could buy a car for what this man was wearing, she thought, somewhat awed.

"You know, I'd rather not get it on my watch," he said.

And then he reached out startlingly quickly, but with surprising gentleness, to grip her wrist, and hold it up in his big hand.

"Why don't you spray your wrist and I'll smell it from there?"

"Ah, uhm, sure!" she said.

She sprayed her own wrist, and then gulped as he pulled her wrist up, which caused her to stumble forward a little until her chest was almost pressed against him as he held her wrist up to his nose and inhaled softly.

Zoey forgot to breathe again.

"You smell... delicious," he said with a smile, easing her hand back down again, and then slowly letting his fingers slide off her wrist.

"Th-thanks!" she half whispered.

He pulled a gold embossed card from inside his jacket and handed it to her.

"What's your name?"

"Zoey!" she said, without even thinking.

"Call me. I believe I can find a much more rewarding and... stimulating job for a girl like you."

His eyes twinkled slightly, amusement crinkling the edges as he walked on.

Zoey turned and stared after him, open mouthed again, then glanced down at the card.

It took her a good hour before she could think of much else aside from him, the man who, according to the business card, was Blake Cameron. What a hot name, she thought, her mind spinning through a dozen fanciful fantasies about marrying him and being his princess living in a huge mansion with servants.

Or even seeing him naked! Ack!

He was so big, but not so much like a football player, well, maybe a quarterback. He had great shoulders but not huge ones, after all. Her head had come only to the middle of his chest! But he moved like a panther. What would he be like in bed!?

The mere thought made her nipples tingle!

Of course, they were just silly fantasies. She was nothing but a nineteen year old girl with few job skills while he, she judged, was a rich, educated, powerful, sleekly sophisticated man! What would he want with her?

Well, the obvious, of course. She was an attractive girl 'with a great rack', as her last boyfriend Jared had proclaimed often enough. Zoey personally thought her legs were her best feature, and it bothered her how many men got fixated on her breasts.

She worked hard at keeping her body toned and in shape, and they only stared at one of the few areas of her body that contained significant fat.

She took the bus home, after work, then walked the last few blocks. She made a face as she let herself into the lobby. Being in the bright, glittering store all day among all those shiny displays and rich men made the dingy looking apartment building look even worse by contrast.

She unlocked the deadbolt and let herself into her tiny bachelor apartment. It was no better than the outside, but at least was cozy, if crowded. Blake Cameron probably had closets bigger than her apartment, she thought ruefully.

She grabbed her laptop and Googled him even before changing or deciding on dinner.

According to the internet Blake Cameron was the son of Phillip Cameron, who had made a fortune in banking. He owned casinos in Macao, Las Vegas, Monaco, The Bahamas and India, and also an internet gaming site.

How much money would it take to actually own a casino, she wondered in amazement. Let alone half a dozen! He must be incredibly rich! Maybe he wanted her to work as a greeter or something in one of his casinos! Or maybe one of those girls in glittery, low cut costumes that wandered around making change and offering drinks.

Zoey would go a long way out of her way to avoid wearing anything low-cut. She was proud of her breasts, in a way. They were extremely full and firm, and she worked at her exercises to keep them that way! They were a perfect thirty-six C, and very well rounded, with cute pink nipples.

But guys had stared at them and grabbed at them since she had gotten them! So she had avoided wearing anything which emphasized her chest wherever possible, and was kind of self-conscious about them.

But for Blake Cameron she'd make the sacrifice!

She got some ravioli and heated it up in the microwave as she stripped and put on her nightie, then slumped on the sofa watching TV, flicking around between channels, looking for something mildly interesting to watch while she picked at it.

She looked at the gold embossed card like some sort of dangerous, ticking bomb. What did that Cameron guy really have in mind? Probably he just wanted to fuck her. But that wasn't a terrible idea. The thought of the handsome man in bed naked with her made her pussy thrum hungrily.

But no, come on! He was too old! She wasn't some... slut, to be swept off her feet by some handsome rich guy who would just fuck her and dump her!

But what if he didn't dump her?

Cameron had those sexy eyes, but they were cool and promised... she wasn't sure what. They weren't exactly scary but were... intimidating. She imagined herself standing naked in front of him! That heated her up almost immediately, and she felt her chest tightening and nipples hardening.

Her cell phone rang and she glanced at it, then frowned. She didn't know the number - or did she. It was familiar but not one of her friends and... She jerked her eyes up towards the table and the card there.

It was the same number!

She gasped, her heart suddenly beating faster. Should she answer!? She wanted to but... but what if he... but ...

She pressed the button, then was afraid to speak!

"Hello, Zoey," that wonderfully deep voice said.

Ohmygod! she thought wildly.