Page 14 of Wicked Flavors

“Why, yes, we do,” Ambrosius replied, rounding the corner of his register with ease.

The man’s brightly colored hat reappeared in one of the aisles. He quickly drew nearer, and Ambrosius tilted his head as he came into view.

“Do you have anyBeatles? I’m looking for theWhite Album,” the man said.

Ambrosius stared at the man. His face was friendly enough, despite the ruddy undertone of his skin. The man had seen too much sun recently, evident by the freckles around his long face. But his body held little interest to Ambrosius. He was much more interested in what layinsideof this man’s body. Specifically, the arrogance that wept from him like a fountain. Like he had gotten away with murder.

Ambrosius grinned.

If only that was all he had done.

“I’m afraid we don’t. We do have a few records of Vera Lynn,” he offered with a gesture of his cane.

The records were right next to the register, but Ambrosius knew the man hadn’t come for that.

“Not really my scene,” the man replied, pulling out his phone. “Ah, looks like my bus is gonna be here. Thanks for letting me look around your shop.”

“Of course,” Ambrosius replied. “The pleasure was all mine.”

The man nodded, walking past the register once more with a steady gait. He was much more confident now. To the point that Ambrosius really couldn’t help himself.

“Oh, and sir?”

Watching the man casually turn around, as if he didn’t have Lot 391 wrapped firmly around his wrist was entertaining. If he didn’t think less of the man, Ambrosius might have respected his poker face.

Honestly, the hubris of humans.

“Please do visit us again,” Ambrosius smiled. “We’ll be waiting just for you.”

6

Bewilderment

Gwendolyn

Gwendolyn didn’t stop looking over her shoulder until she got her front door open. The encounter with the strange man with the strange name had reasonably set her on edge.

The things I’m willing to do for a doll,she thought dourly, shoving the door open.

Once safely inside, she firmly locked the door and wiped her mouth with her cardigan sleeve. Disgust filled her at the memory of what she had done in order to gain her precious doll. Gwendolyn made a sour face as she removed her shoes, and it only deepened as she hung her purse and keys.

It was for the doll, that’s all that mattered, remember?

The thought didn’t bring Gwendolyn any comfort. While she had gotten her prize, she still had to endure that man’stongueinsidehermouth.

The memory of it sent a shiver down her spine. Gwendolyn had never enjoyed French kissing. What few times she had, it always ended up with a man shoving his tongue down her throat. Sloppy and overcrowded, Gwendolyn usually felt uncomfortable during and after.

Gwendolyn placed the paper bag onto the small, round kitchen table and shrugged her cardigan off her shoulders.

But who even has a tongue like that?

A warm flush spread up her neck. That man hadn’t just been strange in his business dealings. Gwendolyn couldn’t shake the vivid memory of how strange it had felt in her mouth. It was more than just the invasive incident that made her uneasy. At least that had been more familiar. Now that Gwendolyn had time to think about it, what had been so off-putting was thesizeof it.

The man’s tongue had felt …massive.It felt larger than a regular tongue, but maybe that was because it had been ages since Gwendolyn had kissed anyone?

“Stop thinking about that awful man,” Gwendolyn grumbled to herself. “An awful man with an awful name. Who the fuck names their kid after the dog’s steed from theLabyrinth?”

She crossed the short distance between her small kitchen to her laundry closet. Sliding the doors open, Gwendolyn bundled up her work cardigan and tossed it inside. She quickly followed with her work polo and under shirt, pulling the wet fabric over her bust and head with a disgruntled huff. Her bra was sweaty as well, and Gwendolyn sighed as she finally wrestled it off.

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