Submitting to Cetera by Shayla Ayers

 

     
    Submitting to
Cetera
    Shayla Ayers
    All rights reserved. Without limiting the
rights under copyright reserved below, no part of this publication
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or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,
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prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the
publisher of this work.
    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author
acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various
products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used
without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not
authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
All fictional characters are of 18 years of age or older and
consenting adults.
    This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
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    Thank you for respecting the author's
work.
    ADULT CONTENT
    FOR ADULTS 18 YEARS AND OLDER
    Smashwords Edition © 2015 Shayla Ayers in
association with Exploited Publishing
(www.exploitedpublishing.com)
    All Printed and Electronic Reserved

    www.Shalaayers.com
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    https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC716krr4CLCg8FOE-8cmEdQ
     
    “ The mall closes in about
an hour,” Patrick whispered to himself.
    For the past few hours he’s been walking
back and forth in front of La Vida Lingerie periodically since he
arrived, eyeing his target from afar.
    He can see her in there sometimes, smiling
that eye-catching smile of hers at customers, using her extensive
allure to sell them an extra pair of panties or a more expensive
bra.
    Sometimes when he looks in, she's behind the
counter, and other times she's out of sight – likely helping
someone get measured for a new sexy garment in one of the changing
rooms. Helping them prepare for a night of romance.
    As the day falls to a close and customers
start to diminish, he finally makes his move. Slipping into the
store while Sarah's occupied with a young customer, he moves
quickly and quietly past the racks of silks and satins towards the
back room, where he knows there's a utility closet.
    He’s been here several times before and this
time he’s ready.
    Drawing the door closed behind him, settling
down into a low crouch on the floor, he waits for the store to
close. He watched her enough and knows her schedule, he knows she’s
closing up alone tonight, and he knows this is the night to make
his move.
    He’s come prepared.
    Hands in his camo jacket. Fingers stroking
the length of nylon rope, as his other hand grasps is the roll of
duct tape, and the zip-ties.
    For several minutes, the only thing he hears
is his own breath, the thumping of his heart as he waits for just
the right moment, ready to attack his prey when the time is
right.
    “ Should be time,” he
whispers, eyes gliding over the green illuminate on his watch,
“2100 exactly.”
    The mall closes at 2100, and from his
previous experience watching his quarry, he knows her routine, the
cleaning up of the store, cashing out the drawer, when the gate
drops and locked and the backdoor she uses to exit the
building.
    Still – he gives her another five minutes,
wanting to be sure all customers have departed. He wants – needs –
her to be alone, to feel safe and secure before turning her world
upside down.
    He’s prepared for his prey to resist, futile
as it may be.
    There's a nice amount of gym-built muscle on
his frame, he's lean and fast due to years spent in the military.
He runs a hand across his shaved scalp, liking his lips, he remains
vigilant. A few deep breaths are audible in the tight, quiet space
of the closet, and