you trying to fix it here in the
hallway instead of in the bathroom?”
Irritated by his pushy behavior, I finally snapped at him.
“Because the blasted ladies’ room they put at this end of the corridor is
closed and I wouldn’t have made it to the other one without embarrassing
myself.”
“Oh.” His voice gentled. “Well, that kinda sucks, but I
still don’t get what the problem is.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m not sure. I can’t tell what broke
or came undone without taking the whole thing off and looking. I just know that
something happened to my corset and now it and my stockings are sliding down.”
Mason looked as if I’d just told him space aliens had landed
behind the building and they were here to take over the world.
I ignored his look of disbelief and continued. “If I take
five more steps, not only will my stockings be slipping below my skirt but I’ll
be flashing everyone through this,” I tugged at the collar of my blouse for
emphasis, “thin, white blouse. I’d hoped to slip back here and fix the problem
enough to make it down the hallway before the crowd lets out on the next
break.”
“Okay. Corset,” he stammered. “Gotcha.”
If I hadn’t been so embarrassed, it might have been comical
that I’d rendered Mason speechless by telling him what kind of underwear I was
wearing. I made a mental note to remember that next time he annoyed me in a
meeting.
“Well, let’s have a look.”
I narrowed my gaze at him, assessing whether or not he was
serious or just trying to cop a feel.
He nodded, “Okay, yeah, I’ll admit it’s a bit of a thrill to
see you in your undies, but I promise to take this seriously and try to fix the
problem.”
“And you promise you won’t go back to the office and tell
anyone?”
He held up one hand. “Boy Scout’s honor.”
I grumbled, “You probably weren’t even a Cub Scout.” I
slipped off my suit jacket then turned to give him my back.
I felt him pull my shirt up out of the waist of my skirt.
He whistled. “White silk. Nice.” I could feel the warmth of
his hands through the silk where he held my shirt out of the way. “Where’d you
get this?”
I swallowed hard and fought the urge to lean back, closer to
Mason. “I found a company online. They specialize in made-to-fit corsets. I’ve
bought several things from them. Their work is outstanding.” My nerves must
have made me babble.
“From what I can see I’d agree.” He ran one hand down the
length of the crisscrossed laces, sending a tidal wave of goose bumps down my
back and legs. “Ah. Here’s the problem.”
Happy for the distraction, I tried to look over my shoulder.
“What happened?”
“The string that ties this thing together broke so it’s sliding
apart. Your skirt probably kept it from coming completely open.”
“Can you fix it?”
“Fix it how?” he questioned.
“Just grab the two ends where the string broke and pull,
even if a couple of the eyelets are empty. When you get enough string to work
with, tie it together again. I can go to the bathroom and fix it later.”
I felt the familiar pressure of the corset tightening around
my ribs and waist.
“There.” Mason said. “I think I got it.”
“Oh good.” I sighed in relief from knowing it wasn’t a major
fix and getting away from the warmth of his hands. “Thank you.” With my back
still turned toward Mason, I squirmed and rearranged the corset until it felt
comfortable again. It was a little loose at the bottom where the strings were
no longer laced but it would do.
I turned to face him then remembered to check my garters to
make sure my stockings hadn’t come loose. When I bent over, his swift intake of
breath startled me. I looked up too fast and stumbled. Mason slipped one arm
around my waist and pulled me against him. While I was thankful he kept me from
falling headfirst into the plant, I was unprepared for how good he felt. His
dress shirt did little to hide the well-defined lines
hallway instead of in the bathroom?”
Irritated by his pushy behavior, I finally snapped at him.
“Because the blasted ladies’ room they put at this end of the corridor is
closed and I wouldn’t have made it to the other one without embarrassing
myself.”
“Oh.” His voice gentled. “Well, that kinda sucks, but I
still don’t get what the problem is.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m not sure. I can’t tell what broke
or came undone without taking the whole thing off and looking. I just know that
something happened to my corset and now it and my stockings are sliding down.”
Mason looked as if I’d just told him space aliens had landed
behind the building and they were here to take over the world.
I ignored his look of disbelief and continued. “If I take
five more steps, not only will my stockings be slipping below my skirt but I’ll
be flashing everyone through this,” I tugged at the collar of my blouse for
emphasis, “thin, white blouse. I’d hoped to slip back here and fix the problem
enough to make it down the hallway before the crowd lets out on the next
break.”
“Okay. Corset,” he stammered. “Gotcha.”
If I hadn’t been so embarrassed, it might have been comical
that I’d rendered Mason speechless by telling him what kind of underwear I was
wearing. I made a mental note to remember that next time he annoyed me in a
meeting.
“Well, let’s have a look.”
I narrowed my gaze at him, assessing whether or not he was
serious or just trying to cop a feel.
He nodded, “Okay, yeah, I’ll admit it’s a bit of a thrill to
see you in your undies, but I promise to take this seriously and try to fix the
problem.”
“And you promise you won’t go back to the office and tell
anyone?”
He held up one hand. “Boy Scout’s honor.”
I grumbled, “You probably weren’t even a Cub Scout.” I
slipped off my suit jacket then turned to give him my back.
I felt him pull my shirt up out of the waist of my skirt.
He whistled. “White silk. Nice.” I could feel the warmth of
his hands through the silk where he held my shirt out of the way. “Where’d you
get this?”
I swallowed hard and fought the urge to lean back, closer to
Mason. “I found a company online. They specialize in made-to-fit corsets. I’ve
bought several things from them. Their work is outstanding.” My nerves must
have made me babble.
“From what I can see I’d agree.” He ran one hand down the
length of the crisscrossed laces, sending a tidal wave of goose bumps down my
back and legs. “Ah. Here’s the problem.”
Happy for the distraction, I tried to look over my shoulder.
“What happened?”
“The string that ties this thing together broke so it’s sliding
apart. Your skirt probably kept it from coming completely open.”
“Can you fix it?”
“Fix it how?” he questioned.
“Just grab the two ends where the string broke and pull,
even if a couple of the eyelets are empty. When you get enough string to work
with, tie it together again. I can go to the bathroom and fix it later.”
I felt the familiar pressure of the corset tightening around
my ribs and waist.
“There.” Mason said. “I think I got it.”
“Oh good.” I sighed in relief from knowing it wasn’t a major
fix and getting away from the warmth of his hands. “Thank you.” With my back
still turned toward Mason, I squirmed and rearranged the corset until it felt
comfortable again. It was a little loose at the bottom where the strings were
no longer laced but it would do.
I turned to face him then remembered to check my garters to
make sure my stockings hadn’t come loose. When I bent over, his swift intake of
breath startled me. I looked up too fast and stumbled. Mason slipped one arm
around my waist and pulled me against him. While I was thankful he kept me from
falling headfirst into the plant, I was unprepared for how good he felt. His
dress shirt did little to hide the well-defined lines
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