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Chapter 18 Part 2 Price, Commission, and Teasing
He wasn't truly angry he was testing her attitude.
Better service might mean she valued her job more, possibly needed money more, or had a modest background and pushed for higher sales and commissions.
All of these factors helped him judge whether money might sway her.
He'd picked up these tricks in his spare time online.
Those 'useless' psychology clips really came in handy, he thought, satisfied.
"I'm here to buy stockings.
"Explain your styles to me."
He got right to the point.
Then he motioned for his grandmother to sit and wait while he picked out items to bring back to her.
Seeing his serious expression, Annie shook her head helplessly but obeyed, taking a seat on the lounge sofa.
By the stocking rack
They strolled down the aisle of the stockings section, her steps measured and professional despite the unease of serving someone so young.
Even so, she dared not slacken her service.
"Young sir, this row here is all from well‑known foreign brands premium stockings, each one crafted with care by master designers.
"I think any of them would suit madam's style. What do you think?"
She gestured gracefully toward a row of high‑end stockings.
Each pair glowed with a refined sheen: skin‑tone styles hugged the leg like a second skin; black lace versions were edged with hand‑sewn pearl chains that caught the light as you moved; smoky mesh styles had subtle rose patterns woven into the cuffs.
A touch of the fabric revealed cool silk with a faint but undeniable stretch.
Even the toe seams were finished nearly invisibly, testimony to the attention to detail for discerning women.
Liam had always loved the way stockings highlighted the charm of mature women.
His eyes lingered on a black lace pair.
Noticing this, Autumn took half a step closer and lowered her voice.
"This one is a limited edition from an Italian workshop this year.
"The pearl chain is made from polished freshwater pearls, which twinkle gently when you walk.
"It's a perfect match for madam."
His fingertips brushed the black lace and coolness spread across his skin.
As he silently admired the craftsmanship, he stole glances at the diligent saleswoman beside him.
Autumn, in turn, could read his gaze.
Years among rich wives and young masters had trained her well.
She knew exactly what he was thinking, though she was still surprised that a boy this young understood so much.
Her mind flicked to the decadence of the circles he likely came from.
Her decade of experience had made her adept at gauging people.
She knew how to handle men who coveted her body.
With this fresh‑faced boy, she felt even more confident she could soak him for every last drop.
She straightened, preparing to use her tried‑and‑true routine.
Quietly, she tugged at the back of her uniform to make it fit snugger.
The hot body hidden under the loose fabric emerged like a lotus from water.
Her moves didn't stop there.
After checking that no one else was around, she slipped behind the counter and bent down out of sight.
When she straightened up again, she held a pair of stockings identical to the ones he'd chosen.
Pinching the waistband of the removed hose between her fingertips, she lifted them lightly and let her waist soften a little.
Her hem brushed the counter's edge, releasing a faint whiff of perfume.
She didn't hand them over immediately.
Instead, she leaned forward, raising the stockings to his eye level.
The neckline of her uniform slipped just enough to show off her delicate collarbones and deep cleavage, her full breasts straining against the fabric.
When she spoke, her voice softened, the tail end of her words trembling slightly.
"Young sir, take a closer look at these stockings.
"As it happens, I was just wearing an identical pair."
She slowly stroked a finger over the black lace in her hand, then passed them to him, her fingertips brushing his knuckles "by accident."
Her other hand came to rest on the counter, arm bending in an elegant line, loose curls at her shoulder swaying faintly.
She deliberately placed the section that had covered her crotch into his palm, wearing a fox‑like smile and gazing at him with tender eyes.
She didn't know for sure if this would work, but she was betting on her ability to read people.
If she'd picked right, she'd walk away with a small fortune from this seemingly rich, not‑too‑clever boy.
Clearly, she'd chosen well he took the bait.
A minute ago she'd been all professionalism; now, in his eyes, she was selling her charms.
He had half believed that stories online about clerks using their bodies to woo customers were just clickbait.
Seeing it firsthand, he realized how naïve he'd been.
The world was vast and full of strange things.
Selling your body for money might be the simplest kind of transaction.
Her sudden shift left his brain lagging for a second.
When she laid that crotch‑worn piece of fabric into his hand, a thunderclap went off in his mind.
He wasn't used to such direct teasing; heat flooded his face instantly as a rich, musky scent rose from the stockings, filling his nose and head.
He felt intoxicated.
With such a vintage in front of him, he decided this mall trip needed a special "bonus round."
Pulling himself together, he forced his desire down and asked calmly,
"What's the highest price for stockings here?"
Clutching the black hose, he fixed her with a burning stare.
She blinked, surprised at his bluntness, then quickly understood that her beauty trick had worked and smiled even brighter.
"Young sir, our most expensive stockings are limited custom pieces, each priced at thirteen thousand."
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