Carl slumped into the plush chair outside Victoria’s Secret, his arms crossed over his chest. The faint hum of mall music and the distant chatter of shoppers did little to distract him from the growing boredom creeping up his spine. He shot a glance at the store’s entrance, where Eve had disappeared moments ago, and let out a low groan.
“Don’t take forever,” he muttered under his breath, though he knew she couldn’t hear him. There goes another hour of my life, he thought, sinking deeper into the chair. He pulled out his phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media, but his mind kept drifting back to the absurdity of a “fitting appointment.” What’s there to fit? She’s been wearing the same size since I met her.
Eve had flashed him a quick smile and a peck on the cheek before she vanished into the store, her voice light and teasing. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she’d said, her tone dripping with false assurance. Carl had rolled his eyes, muttering, “Yeah, right,” as she walked away. Now, he was left to stew in his impatience, wondering why women made even the simplest things so complicated.
He sighed, glancing at the store again. What could possibly take so long in there?
~~~~~
Eve stepped into Victoria’s Secret with the precision of a covert operative. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail of the women around her. The air was thick with unspoken competition, a silent battlefield where beauty and rank were constantly assessed and reassessed.
Her gaze flitted from one woman to the next, her mind instantly calculating their measurements. 5’6”, 120 pounds, 34B—solid, but nothing remarkable. 5’9”, 140 pounds, 36C—impressive, but her waistline is a bit too soft. Eve’s lips curled into a faint smirk as she cataloged each woman, ranking them in her mind according to the ancient and unyielding Woman’s Code.
Her attention eventually settled on the front-desk attendant, a statuesque woman who radiated an almost otherworldly perfection. 5’8”, 130 pounds, 36D—nearly flawless, Eve thought, her heart quickening ever so slightly. The woman’s posture was impeccable, her smile dazzling, and her proportions enviable. But Eve’s keen eyes caught the subtle stiffness in her movements, the unnatural precision that gave her away. A robot, she realized, her smirk widening. They’ve really outdone themselves this time.
She approached the counter, her steps smooth and deliberate. “I’m here for a fitting appointment,” she said, her tone casual but laced with hidden meaning. As she spoke, she flashed a quick hand signal—a subtle flick of her fingers that only another woman would recognize.
The attendant’s eyes flickered, her smile never wavering. “Of course,” she replied, returning the same hand signal with practiced ease. “Right this way, miss.” She gestured toward the back of the store, her movements fluid and graceful.
Eve followed her, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension. This is it, she thought, her mind racing.
The fitting was a facade, of course. A lie women told men to hide the truth. All women, of course, know their body measurements down to the smallest detail and can discern others' measurements at a glance. A fitting was entirely unnecessary. The truth was far more complicated and would drive men mad if they knew.
As they walked past racks of lingerie and displays of delicate fabrics, Eve couldn’t help but notice the other women in the store. 5’5”, 115 pounds, 32A—too small. 5’7”, 135 pounds, 34C—decent, but not a threat. Her eyes darted from one woman to the next, her mind constantly calculating, comparing, and ranking. I’m still on top, she assured herself, though the faintest twinge of doubt lingered at the edge of her thoughts.
The attendant led her to a private fitting room, its walls lined with mirrors that reflected Eve’s image back at her from every angle. 5’7.5”, 125 pounds, 34D—perfectly balanced, she thought, her gaze lingering on her reflection. Her waist was taut, her hips curved just enough to be alluring, and her breasts were firm and well-proportioned. I’ve worked hard for this, she reminded herself, her confidence bolstered by her own assessment.
Eve quickly slipped out of her clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on the small bench in the corner. The cool air of the fitting room brushed against her bare skin, sending a shiver down her spine. She stood completely naked now, her body on full display in the room's mirrored walls. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. This is it, she thought. The moment of truth.
The door opened, and a matronly woman stepped inside. Despite her advanced age—Eve guessed she was around 42—she was stunningly beautiful— 5’8”, damn her, 135 pounds, 36D—, her grace and dignity radiating an aura of authority. Her piercing eyes swept over Eve, taking in every detail with precision. Eve straightened her posture. "Keeper," she greeted softly, giving a subtle hand signal that indicated her Level Four access.
The Keeper of the Secret's gaze lingered, scrutinizing Eve's form with an intensity that made her skin prickle. Eve fought the urge to fidget, acutely aware of every imperfection the Keeper might find. Her breath caught as the Keeper took a step closer, her presence commanding and unnerving. After what felt like an eternity, the Keeper spoke, her voice calm and measured. "Be welcome, Eve."
With that, she gracefully turned and exited the room, leaving Eve alone with her reflection. Eve exhaled slowly, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady her nerves. Despite her confidence, she couldn't help but ask herself, Did I pass? Was I judged worthy? Her questions were answered a moment later when the mirror before her shimmered and faded, revealing a doorway into The Secret World of Women.
Eve hesitated for only a second before stepping through. The air shifted, warm and fragrant, as she entered a plush, elegant waiting room. The sight before her was both surreal and exhilarating: dozens of naked women, their laughter echoing as they engaged in a lively pillow fight. Feathers floated through the air like snowflakes, and the atmosphere was filled with a sense of false camaraderie and vicious competition.
Another perfectly beautiful robotic attendant approached, holding out a soft, velvet pillow. "Welcome to The Gauntlet, miss," she said with a courteous bow. "May you prove worthy." Eve accepted the pillow, her heart pounding with nerves and excitement. I will be judged worthy, she thought. I am worthy. A determined and falsely sweet smile spread across her face, the smile every woman learns from a young age.
Eve’s eyes narrowed as she assessed the chaos around her, her mind calculating each woman’s rank with lightning speed. A few were close to her own level—5’7”, 125 pounds, 34C here, 5’8”, 130 pounds,36D there—but most fell short, their imperfections glaringly obvious to her trained eye. She gripped her velvet pillow tighter, her lips maintaining the plastic grin as she stepped into the fray.
The air was thick with the sound of false giggles and the rhythmic thwack of pillows meeting skin. Breasts bounced and jiggled with every movement, nipples pert and erect from the electric tension of the fight. Eve’s own nipples hardened in response, a surge of battle lust overtaking her. She moved with practiced grace, her steps deliberate as she stalked her first target—a lithe brunette with a smug smirk plastered across her face. 5’6”, 145 pounds, 38C, almost contemptible.
Eve’s pillow connected with the woman’s side in a playful yet strategic blow. The brunette turned, her eyes locking with Eve’s, and the dance began. They swung their pillows in rhythmic arcs, their bodies edging closer with each strike. Eve’s heart pounded as their breasts brushed against each other, the contact sending a jolt of heat through her. The brunette’s nipple grazed hers, and Eve’s breath hitched, her grin widening.
Closer still they moved, pillows flailing, their bodies sliding against each other, the warmth of their skin igniting a feverish battle of lust. Eve could feel the brunette’s breath on her face, her lips just inches away. The air between them crackled with tension, and then it happened—the brunette succumbed to her battle-lust, her lips crashing into Eve’s in a searing kiss.
Eve’s mind swam with a mix of triumph and desire as their tongues clashed, each battling for dominance. Her hands moved instinctively, her pillow hand wrapping around the brunette’s lower back while the other slipped between her legs. Eve’s fingers found their mark, rubbing the woman’s clit with deliberate precision. The brunette moaned into the kiss, her body writhing against Eve’s as pleasure overtook her.
The woman’s climax hit hard, her body trembling as she slumped to the floor, defeated. Eve stood over her, her chest heaving and her grin now genuine. Victory, she thought, her heart racing with exhilaration. She was one step closer.
Eve moved through the battlefield with predatory precision, her pillow striking with calculated force. Women littered the floor in various states of bliss, having lost their battles. Each woman Eve encountered fell in a cascade of moans and shudders: a 5’7”, 140 pounds, 36D blonde woman, followed by a 5’5”, 125 pounds, 34C redhead, then a 5’6”, 150 pounds, 38D woman with pink hair and pierced nipples. The first two were quick to yield—Eve’s fingers danced over their clits, her lips locked onto theirs in a fierce kiss until their bodies bucked and collapsed in orgasmic bliss. The third fought longer, her battle lust igniting as their bodies pressed together, breasts sliding against breasts, nipples hard and sensitive, but inevitably succumbed to Eve.
One combatant, a tall, almost Amazonian 5’9”, 145 pounds, 38C blonde with a defiant smirk, resisted Eve’s advances with surprising tenacity. Their pillows clashed in a flurry of soft thuds, their bodies grinding together as they circled. Eve’s breath quickened as the blonde’s nipple brushed against her own, sending a jolt of electricity through her core. Their lips hovered inches apart, the tension unbearable, but the blonde fought the urge to kiss, her eyes blazing with challenge. Eve pinched her nipple, a dirty but common tactic, and finally the woman's mouth sought out Eve's, their tongues dancing. Eve’s fingers found her slick pussy, rubbing her clit with relentless intensity. The blonde’s resolve faltered, her moans escaping in sharp gasps as she finally succumbed, her body convulsing as she fell to the floor.
The last woman standing—a raven-haired beauty with piercing green eyes and the exact same measurements as Eve, 5’7.5”, 125 pounds, 34D—put up the fiercest fight yet. Their bodies writhed together, slick with sweat, pillows forgotten as their hands explored. Eve’s nipples hardened to near-diamond hardness as the woman pinched them, sending waves of pleasure through her. She retaliated by spanking the woman hard on the ass, an intuition telling Eve her enemy's weakness, and the woman's eyes glassed over and finally she lunged forward to wrap her lips around Eve's.
The battle was only half-over, their tongues wrestled even as their bodies continued to dance against each other. Eve slipped her fingers deep inside the woman’s pussy, her thumb circling her clit. The woman’s hips bucked, but she clung to her last shreds of control, her moans growing louder and more desperate. Eve slapped her ass again and again, her hand stinging with each blow. Finally, with a sharp cry, the raven-haired woman gave in, her body trembling as she climaxed.
Eve stood panting, her pussy dripping and her chest heaving with exertion. I’ve won, she thought, her heart racing with triumph. She threw her head back and let out a victorious yowl to do the meanest ally-cat proud.
The robotic attendant approached, her voice smooth and congratulatory. “Well done, miss. You’ve proven yourself worthy. Follow me.” Eve stepped over the fallen women, their bodies sprawled in blissful defeat, and followed the attendant through another door, ready for the next challenge.
Eve stepped into the next room, her body still thrumming with the electric aftermath of her triumph. The air here was crisp and sterile, a harsh departure from the frenzied heat of the Gauntlet. The room was stark, its glaring white walls illuminated by blinding artificial lights that left no shadow untouched. At its center stood a raised circular platform, its polished surface gleaming like a cold, unyielding mirror. The robotic attendant, her movements unnervingly precise, gestured toward it with a fluid sweep of her hand. “Lie down, please. Arms and legs out,” she intoned, her voice devoid of warmth.
Eve’s breath hitched as she approached the platform, her bare feet padding softly against the cool floor. She climbed onto the surface, its unyielding hardness pressing against her back as she stretched out. Automatically, her legs parted, and her arms splayed wide, her body fully exposed and vulnerable. She felt the faint click of hidden mechanisms as the platform’s built-in straps snapped into place, binding her wrists and ankles with firm efficiency. The cold metal against her skin sent a shiver up her spine—part anticipation, part unease. She knew her worth was about to be tested once more, yet the unpredictability of what lay ahead made her heart race.
This is it, she thought, her pulse quickening. The ultimate trial of endurance. Show no weakness.
As her mind raced, mechanical arms emerged from the floor with a soft whir, their attachments glinting ominously under the harsh light. Eve’s eyes widened as the first pair of arms descended, each wielding a hard plastic nipple attachment. They pressed against her sensitive peaks with unyielding precision, and the vibrations began instantly—buzz-buzz-buzzzz, buzz-buzz-buzzzz—a relentless rhythm that jolted through her chest like electric shocks. Her nipples stiffened to near-painful hardness, the sensation both maddening and intoxicating. Her back arched involuntarily, a low, guttural moan escaping her lips. The vibrations were calculated, designed to push her to the brink without mercy.
Her breath came in shallow gasps as another arm, this one tipped with a 6" long and 1¼" in diameter pink dildo slick with lube, positioned itself between her legs. Her pussy was already soaked from the earlier battles, and the dildo pressed against her entrance with agonizing slowness. Eve’s breath hitched as it slid inside, the cold, smooth intrusion stretching her walls and sending waves of pleasure radiating through her core. The arm began to thrust in and out, its rhythm steady at first but quickly escalating in pace and intensity. Each thrust was deeper, more demanding, the relentless pistoning threatening to shatter her composure.
Then the dildo began to vibrate, the added sensation sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core. Eve’s muscles clenched, her thighs trembling as she fought to hold back her orgasm. She gritted her teeth, her nails digging into her palms as the vibrations from her nipples and the dildo worked in tandem, their combined assault pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her thoughts fragmented, her mind a whirlwind of pleasure and pain, control and surrender.
Focus, she commanded herself, her body writhing against the cold platform. You are not weak. You are worthy.
But the relentless onslaught was unyielding. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as the vibrations intensified, the dildo thrusting harder and faster. Her vision blurred at the edges, her body teetering on the precipice of release. She could feel it building, a tidal wave of sensation threatening to overwhelm her. Just a little longer, she pleaded silently, her body trembling with the effort to hold on. Just a little longer.
Another dildo, 5" long and ¾" in diameter, slick with lube, pressed against the tight ring of her ass. Eve gasped, her body tensing as it pushed inside, stretching her further than she thought possible. Its vibrations synced perfectly with the one in her pussy, the dual sensations creating a maddening rhythm that left her trembling. She could feel herself being filled so completely, so relentlessly, that it threatened to overwhelm her. Her moans grew louder, desperate, her hips bucking against the restraints as she tried to match the pace. I can’t—I can’t hold on, she thought, her mind teetering on the edge of surrender.
And then, it got worse—or better, depending on how you looked at it. A fourth arm appeared, its lifelike, rubbery, 12" long and 1 ½" in diameter cock gliding toward her mouth. “No,” she whispered, but it was too late. The cock pressed against her lips, forcing them apart before plunging deep into her throat. Eve gagged, her body jerking against the restraints as the cock face-fucked her with brutal efficiency. Her throat contracted around the intrusion, her gag reflex overwhelmed as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She fought to breathe through her nose, her chest heaving, her body a symphony of sensations—each one more intense than the last.
The dildo in her pussy was replaced with a larger one, 9" long and 2" in diameter, its rabbit ears vibrating against her clit, now engorged to nearly ½" in length, in a relentless assault. Her ass soon received the same treatment, the new dildo stretching her further, at 7½" long and 1½" in diameter, filling her more completely. She had never felt so full, so stretched.
Small electric shocks zapped her nipples, each jolt sending sparks through her body, setting her nerves on fire. Eve clenched her teeth, her mind racing as she fought to hold back her orgasm. Not yet. Not yet. Her body writhed, every inch of her skin hypersensitive, every nerve alight with a mix of pleasure and pain.
But then, it happened—the final blow. A tiny arm extended, shocking her clit directly. Her resolve shattered, her orgasm erupting with such intensity she thought she might black out. Her body convulsed, every muscle taut as waves of pleasure tore through her. She screamed into the cock in her mouth, her vision blurring as ecstasy consumed her. The vibrations, the thrusts, the shocks—all of it merged into a single, overwhelming wave of sensation that left her trembling, spent, and utterly euphoric.
As the mechanical arms retracted, Eve lay there, panting, her body still quivering with the aftershocks of her climax. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her skin slick with sweat, her mind buzzing with a mix of exhaustion and elation. I did it, she thought, a triumphant smile spreading across her face despite the lingering ache in her body. I proved my worth.
The robotic attendant approached, her voice smooth and congratulatory. “Well done, miss. Follow me.”
Eve rose unsteadily, her legs wobbling beneath her, but her spirits soaring. She was ready—no, eager—for whatever came next.
Eve stepped, still quivering, into the throne room, her heart pounding so fiercely she could feel it in her throat. The air was thick with an almost sacred energy, and her breath caught as her eyes fell upon Queen Victoria. The queen sat upon her gilded throne, elevated on a dais with a handful of stairs leading up to it. Her presence was both ethereal and commanding, a paradoxical embodiment of beauty and power that made Eve’s knees weaken. There was only one Victoria, yet she existed simultaneously in every store, a symbol of perfection that transcended time and space.
Victoria’s form was nothing short of divine. She was a vision of womanhood in its purest essence—5’8”, 135 pounds, 36D—every measurement perfectly balanced, her body both matronly and youthful, ageless and timeless. Her skin was flawless, unblemished, and her curves were exquisitely proportioned, a testament to her mastery over the art of femininity. Her breasts were full and firm, her waist slender, her hips gently rounded, and her legs long and shapely. Every detail, from the arch of her eyebrows to the curve of her lips, radiated regal grace. She was all women and more, embodying the pinnacle of beauty that none could hope to attain.
Eve’s breath hitched as she immediately prostrated herself, her forehead pressing against the cool, polished floor. Her body trembled with reverence and awe, her mind racing with thoughts of her own unworthiness. Am I truly deserving of this? she wondered, her heart pounding in her chest. The silence in the throne room was deafening, broken only by the soft rustle of Victoria’s gossamer robe as she shifted slightly on her throne.
“Rise,” Victoria commanded, her voice soft yet authoritative, carrying a weight that made Eve’s skin prickle.
Eve obeyed, her legs shaking as she pushed herself to her feet. She kept her gaze lowered, her voice barely more than a whisper as she murmured, “Your grace.”
Victoria rose from her throne, her movements fluid and deliberate, as though the very air bent to her will. She breasted boobily down the stairs—a phrase that barely captured the mesmerizing elegance of her descent. Her hips swayed with a deliberate rhythm, each step a masterclass in grace and poise. Eve’s pulse quickened, her lips parting slightly as she watched the queen approach. Victoria stopped before her, her towering presence both intimidating and awe-inspiring. She reached out, her hand gently lifting Eve’s chin until their eyes met.
“You are worthy,” Victoria declared, her words sending a shiver of pride and relief cascading through Eve’s core. Eve’s breath caught, her heart swelling with a mixture of triumph and gratitude. The queen turned gracefully, and as if summoned by her very will, a chaise lounge materialized at the base of the stairs. Victoria reclined into it, her legs parting in a deliberate and regal invitation. “You may pleasure me,” she commanded, her tone both authoritative and inviting.
Eve’s heart raced as she dropped to her hands and knees, her body quivering with a heady mix of excitement and nerves. She crawled toward Victoria with a slow, deliberate pace, her eyes fixed on the queen’s flawless form.
She began with Victoria’s feet, her lips pressing tender kisses against the smooth, delicate skin. Her tongue traced intricate patterns, each movement a reverent tribute to the goddess before her. Victoria’s soft moans spurred her on, emboldening her as she moved higher.
Eve’s lips and tongue traveled up Victoria’s legs, savoring every inch of the queen’s smooth, sculpted skin. Her hands trembled as she caressed Victoria’s calves, her thighs, her hips, each touch a silent prayer of devotion. Victoria’s moans grew louder, her body responding to Eve’s ministrations with a languid ease that made Eve’s own body thrum with need.
Before reaching that sweet nest of womanhood, Eve moved to Victoria’s head, her hands trembling as she cupped the queen’s face. Her lips brushed against Victoria’s forehead, her touch feather-light and reverent. She kissed the queen’s eyes, her nose, her cheeks, before finally meeting her lips. Their kiss was slow, deep, and electric, Victoria’s hands tangling in Eve’s hair as their tongues danced in a fiery, unhurried rhythm. Eve’s hands roamed over the queen’s body, her fingertips memorizing every curve, every dip, every perfect detail.
Eve’s lips trailed down Victoria’s neck, her chest, pausing to lavish attention on the queen’s perfect breasts. She sucked and licked Victoria’s nipples, her own body trembling with need as she drew soft gasps and moans from the queen. She trailed kisses down Victoria's perfect belly, swirling her tongue in her perfect belly button before moving further down.
Eve’s lips trailed lower, her breath warm against Victoria’s smooth skin as she lingered over the soft landing strip of fuzz that led to the queen’s sacred core. Her heart pounded with a mix of reverence and desire, her body trembling with the anticipation of what was to come. She pressed a soft, lingering kiss just above Victoria’s slit, her lips brushing against the delicate, fragrant skin. The scent of the queen’s arousal filled her senses, intoxicating and divine, and Eve’s own body responded with a rush of heat, her pussy throbbing in sync with her racing heart.
Finally, her tongue found its destination, parting Victoria’s folds with a deliberate, worshipful stroke. The taste of the queen’s essence was exquisite, a heady blend of sweetness and salt that made Eve’s head spin. She moaned softly, the vibrations of her voice sending a shiver through Victoria, who let out a low, satisfied sigh. Eve lost herself in the act, her tongue swirling and probing with practiced precision, her lips sucking gently on the queen’s sensitive clit. Her fingers joined the feast, sliding effortlessly into Victoria’s slick, welcoming pussy. Eve curled them just so, pressing against that perfect spot inside, and Victoria’s breath hitched, her body arching with pleasure.
“Yes, Eve,” the queen murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “You’ve done so well. Now, let me return the favor.”
Eve’s heart leapt, a thrill of excitement and gratitude coursing through her. Victoria guided her into a 69 position, their bodies aligning perfectly as they lay intertwined. Eve felt the weight of the queen’s hips over her face, her own lips parting eagerly as she resumed her worship of Victoria’s pussy. At the same time, Victoria’s tongue found Eve’s slit, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through her entire body.
Victoria’s tongue was a revelation, licking and sucking with a skill that made Eve’s mind reel. Her fingers joined in, sliding inside Eve’s pussy with a practiced ease that left her gasping. Eve’s own fingers continued their work inside Victoria, her tongue alternating between broad, slow strokes and quick, teasing flicks. The rhythm they found was perfect, their moans mingling in the air as they drove each other closer and closer to the edge.
Eve’s body trembled with the intensity of it all, her pussy clenching around Victoria’s fingers as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in her core. She could feel Victoria’s own orgasm building, the queen’s thighs tightening around her head, her moans growing louder and more desperate. Eve’s tongue pressed harder, her fingers curling deeper, and with a shuddering cry, Victoria came undone, her ecstasy pouring over Eve’s lips in a flood of warmth.
The queen’s climax triggered Eve’s own, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure tore through her. She screamed into Victoria’s pussy, her hips bucking uncontrollably as her orgasm consumed her. Together, they rode the waves of ecstasy, their bond sealed in mutual fulfillment. When the tremors finally subsided, they lay together, spent and panting, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and sweat.
As they caught their breath, Eve’s heart swelled with a profound sense of accomplishment and belonging. She had proven her worth, not just to the queen, but to herself. And in that moment, she knew she had truly ascended.
A robotic attendant stepped forward, her movements fluid and precise, and gently helped Eve to her feet. Eve’s legs wobbled slightly, the lingering echoes of her ecstasy still coursing through her. She glanced up at Queen Victoria, who had gracefully ascended back to her throne, her regal presence undiminished. The queen’s voice, soft yet commanding, filled the room. “Top shelf,” she said, her words carrying a weight of finality. Eve’s heart swelled with pride as she understood the significance. She had not only proven her worth but earned the queen’s favor.
The attendant guided Eve out of the throne room and into a smaller, intimate chamber. The walls were lined with bras of every imaginable design, each one crafted to perfection. Eve’s breath caught as she took in the sight, her eyes drawn to the top shelf, where a selection of exquisite bras rested like treasures. The attendant gestured toward them with a fluid motion. “Choose one,” she instructed.
Eve’s fingers trembled as she reached for a bra, its fabric soft and luxurious to the touch. She slipped it on, marveling at the way it molded to her body like a second skin. It supported her breasts perfectly, lifting them without constriction, and the absence of an underwire was a revelation. She had never worn anything so comfortable. A smile spread across her face, her heart swelling with gratitude and pride. I’ve earned this, she thought, her confidence soaring.
~~~~~
Carl sat outside the store, his patience worn thin. He checked his phone again, the minutes dragging by like hours. Finally, just as he was about to leave in frustration to go find a beer somewhere, Eve emerged. She carried a small bag, her expression a mix of triumph and exhaustion.
“Thanks for waiting,” Eve said, her voice light but genuine. Her cheeks were still flushed, her hair slightly disheveled, and Carl couldn’t help but notice the faint glow about her.
What the hell took so long? he wondered, but he didn’t bother asking. “Yeah, yeah,” Carl muttered, standing up and stretching. “I’m hungry.” He cast a quick glance at the bag in her hand. “Did you get what you needed?”
Eve nodded, her smile widening. “The most comfortable bra I’ve ever worn. Worth the wait.”
Carl rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as they walked away. “Women.”
