She's beautiful!

'I'll have a grande latte, extra hot,' she said, her voice smooth and low, sending a shiver down my spine that settled between my legs. I nodded, punching in the order on the register, my fingers fumbling slightly as I stole glances at her.

God, her skin looked so soft, the kind I'd want to lick slowly from her collarbone down to the valley between her tits. My pussy ached anew, not from the ghost of bad sex, but from this fresh, forbidden pull—a woman, elegant and unaware, making my clit throb with unspent need.

I handed her the receipt, our fingers brushing for a split second, and electricity shot through me, my nipples peaking against my bra.

As she waited by the pickup area, I couldn't stop watching. She leaned against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulder in waves that begged to be tangled in my fists.

My mind raced with what-ifs: pulling her into the back room, pressing my lips to hers, feeling her tongue slide against mine while my hands cupped her ass, squeezing the firm flesh.

But I was on shift, trapped behind this damn counter, my longing bottled up behind **** polite smiles for the next customer.

'Next!' I called out, my tone clipped to hide the tremor, but inside, desire clawed at me, raw and insistent.

She turned slightly, catching me staring, and offered a small smile that twisted my gut. Was it flirtation? Or just kindness? Either way, it ignited something fierce—visions of her pinning me down, her thighs straddling mine, grinding until I gasped her name.

I wanted to whisper something bold, like how her beauty made my body hum, how I'd drop to my knees and taste her if she asked. But I bit my lip, turning back to the machine, the grind of beans drowning out my pounding heart.

The romantic tension built like a storm, unrequited and electric, leaving me wet and wanting as I handed her the cup.

'Here you go—grande latte,' I said, our eyes meeting again, longer this time. Her fingers grazed mine once more, deliberate or not, and I felt a rush of warmth flood my core, my panties growing damp with the ache of unspoken need.

She thanked me softly, her voice wrapping around me like a caress, and walked toward the door, her graceful stride pulling my gaze to the sway of her hips.

I stood there, heart racing, craving the connection that simmered just out of reach, wondering if she'd ever come back—or if I'd find the courage to chase this spark before it faded.