An apron

"You think I care?" Amy asked, stalling past him and stopping by the counter.

"Please!" James begged, laying there looking like a helpless puppy dog.

Amy let out a sigh, her eyes falling on the apron still laying on top of the counter. "Here," she finally said, throwing it at him and feeling a momentary sense of pleasure as the fabric landed squarely on his still erect cock. "Now I'm getting out of here."

With that she turned away once more, stepping out from behind the counter.