TK Maxx Treasure | NEON LIT

TK Maxx was controlled chaos. Designer labels mixed with discount disasters, no organisation whatsoever, and the constant feeling that you might be missing something amazing three racks over.

I was on the hunt for cheap work shirts when I spotted her—tall, slim, covered in tattoos that peeked out from her uniform sleeves. Sharp jawline, buzz cut, the kind of confident posture that said she knew exactly how hot she was.

Her name tag said "Scout." Of course it did.

"Need help finding something?" she asked. "Or just enjoying the chaos?"

"Work shirts. Preferably ones that don't make me look like a geography teacher."

She laughed—a sharp, barking sound. "Follow me. I know where they hide the good stuff."

"The good stuff" was in a back corner, behind the home section, in a rack that looked like it hadn't been touched in weeks.

"People never look here," Scout explained, flicking through hangers. "They get distracted by the handbags. What size?"

"Medium."

"Medium what? Slim fit? Regular? You've got the shoulders for slim." She looked me up and down appraisingly. "Arms too."

"Thanks?"

"It's an observation, not a compliment." But she was smiling. "Here—try these." She handed me a stack of shirts. "Fitting rooms are that way. I'll check on you in five."

She checked on me in three.

"How's it going in—oh." She'd pulled back the curtain without warning, catching me mid-change, shirt off. "Well then."

I should have been annoyed. I wasn't.

"Most people knock."

"Most people are boring." She stepped inside, pulled the curtain closed behind her. "Those shirts fit?"

"Haven't tried them yet."

"Too busy admiring yourself in the mirror?"

"Something like that."

She was close now, close enough that I could smell her—something spicy, with an edge of leather. Her eyes were grey, intense.

"I don't usually do this," she said.

"Do what?"

"This." She kissed me.

Her lips were soft, contradicting everything else about her. Her hands found my bare chest, nails dragging lightly.

"Fuck," she breathed. "You feel good."

"So do you."

"Haven't even touched me yet." She grabbed my hand, pressed it against her. "Fix that."

She was wearing some kind of bodysuit under her work trousers—I felt it when I slid my hand down. She unpopped the bottom, guided my fingers to where she wanted them.

Wet. Hot. Ready.

"Been thinking about this all shift," she admitted. "Saw you walk in and just—needed it."

"Happy to help."

I worked her with my fingers while she bit her lip to stay quiet. Her hips rocked against my hand, chasing friction.

"More—need more—"

I added another finger, curled them. She gasped, grabbed my shoulders.

"There—fuck—right there—"

She came silently, eyes locked on mine, her whole body shaking. I didn't stop until she pushed my hand away.

"Your turn," she breathed, dropping to her knees.

The fitting room had definitely seen better days. The mirror was smudged, the curtain didn't quite close, and someone's abandoned Zara bag sat in the corner.

None of that mattered when Scout's mouth was on me.

She was skilled—efficient but thorough, her tongue stud adding an interesting dimension. Her grey eyes never left mine.

"Close," I warned.

She pulled off, stood, turned around. Somehow her trousers were already around her ankles.

"Make it quick. Store's not closed yet."

I didn't need telling twice. I pushed in, both of us groaning at the feeling.

"Yes—fuck—just like that—"

We had to be fast, had to be quiet. The thrill of it—the risk—made everything more intense. I could hear shoppers walking past, the distant beep of the tills.

"Harder—don't hold back—"

I grabbed her hips, gave her everything. She came with a muffled moan, and I followed seconds later, pulling out at the last moment.

We cleaned up, got dressed, pretended nothing had happened. Scout straightened her name badge.

"Those shirts suit you," she said, like she hadn't just had me inside her. "You should get all three."

"Good advice."

"I'm full of it." She pulled back the curtain, gave me one last look. "I'm here Saturdays. Usually work the fitting rooms."

"Convenient."

"Very." She walked away, all sharp edges and confidence.

I bought all three shirts. Plus a belt I didn't need.

Best TK Maxx trip of my life.