Free On Display (A Shoe Obsession Erotic Short) by Marie Carnay Page A

sidewalk, she made her way to
the windows and ducked underneath the awnings to wait out the
traffic. As she tipped her umbrella to shake off the water, the
window display caught her eye. Shoes. Row upon row of shoes.
Sandals, flats, heels, boots. A candy-colored window of delight,
shining just for her. Mandy drifted across the storefront, eyes
pausing on each detail: a contrasting stitch here, a grosgrain bow
there.
    And then she spotted them: a glistening pair
of black stiletto boots waiting patiently for her. The patent
leather stretched up to mid-calf with a polish so reflective she
could see her face curved wide in the platform toe. And the heel—a
spike of five or six inches that would send her shooting into the
air without a hitch in her step. I’d be dry, warm, and really
tall. I could stomp right over these puddles and not even
notice.
    Her glove trailed over the glass, outlining
the boots with her fingers as she stared. Craving hit her, slamming
into her stomach and wrenching her insides the more she ogled. I
bet they’re outrageously expensive. But I could charge them. Work
overtime for a year to pay them off. She bit her lip as the
possibilities tumbled around in her head, desire and reason
fighting for control. Maybe just one in-person peak. Feel the
leather for a second before I go home. As her mind made
excuses, her feet took over, propelling her frozen toes toward the
door and into the warmth of the shop before Mandy could talk
herself out of it.
     
     
     
    Chapter
Two
    She walked in and deposited her umbrella in
the empty stand before the door swung shut behind her. Slipping her
gloves into her purse, she walked over to the window display. The
boots stood there, still patient, still waiting. She reached out
and picked one up, turning it over to look for a price tag. “Oh,
wow. Okay. More than a year,” Mandy said out loud as her eyes went
wide at the price.
    Her fingers ran over the leather, the
burnished softness of the patent slick under her fingertips. The
stitching melted into the gleam, fine even humps arcing around the
heel, snaking around the platform toe. She slid the zipper down,
the teeth smooth and effortless, and reached inside. Her fingers
melted into the suede lining, a seamless glove for her brand-new
pedicure. As she slid her hand free and re-zipped the boot, the
smell of leather—dark, sultry, and decadent—filled her nose and she
inhaled deep. The smell of new shoes could weaken her knees and
open her wallet like nothing else.
    She tapped the heel with her nails and the
clack-clack of the plastic echoed throughout the shop. They were
the perfect city rain boot, all glamour and style, but warm and
dry. I have to try these on. But as she reached to set the
boot back on the pedestal, the lights flicked off overhead.
    Mandy spun to face the darkness, eyes
searching and scanning until a figure loomed in the entrance to the
back. A large, most certainly male, figure. What the hell? The boot slipped from Mandy’s hand and crashed onto the floor as
she backed into the display. Her heart surged, a rapid fire
thumpity-thump, as her throat dried and her hands sought purchase
on the shelves behind her. Her fingers wrapped around a stiletto
sandal as her instincts to run wailed inside her head, but before
she could break for the door, the light flicked on.
    “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I’d locked the
front door. We’ve been closed for over an hour,” the man said as he
smiled at her.
    Mandy tried to smile in return, but managed a
weak grimace. “I-I’m sorry … the light turned off and I …” she
stammered as she let go of the sandal and bent down to retrieve the
boot. I am an idiot. Mandy pulled the boot to her chest,
pressing the cool leather to her naked collarbone as she collected
herself and stood up.
    “I’m sure I gave you quite a fright. Can I
get you anything? A glass of water?”
    “No … um … I’m sure I sound paranoid, but …
you do work here, right?”
    He laughed