Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
I’m going to die. No, I’m already dead. I cover my face with my hands, trying to drown out his bark of laughter as he continues reading. He flips pages and doesn’t stop for minutes while I die a slow death.
“Baby, this is good. It’s the real deal. I’m just messin’ with you.”
I peek out from behind my hands. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says. “And listen, I haven’t read this whole thing, but I know for a fact Marla wouldn’t have put these on display like this if she didn’t think they were top quality.”
My hands drop. “Top quality?”
He nods, his approval filling me up like sunshine, from the top of my head all the way down to my toes.
“Why do you want to know what I write so badly?” I ask him.
He shrugs a shoulder. “We need to get reacquainted. And why do you like to make me coffee and bring me breakfast?”
That makes me grow a little shy. “Well… I like serving you.” It’s true. There’s a part of me that’s a natural submissive, who wants to earn his praise and approval.
Reaching out, he tugs a lock of my hair. “You’re a good girl, Chandra.”
The door to the shop jangles open and we step apart like we’re totally guilty.
God.
Marla walks in, blinking wide eyes at us. “Well, hello,” she says. “Master Axle. I see you’ve met my newest hiree?” She walks briskly past us and removes her coat, hat, and gloves, hanging them up on a peg behind the counter.
“I’ve known Chandra longer than this store’s been around,” Axle says. Well, so much for keeping anything secret.
“Is that right?” she asks. “How do you know each other?” She shoots me a quizzical look, and I feel a little guilty. I should’ve maybe told her about last night.
“I… grew up in the neighborhood where he was… well…” My voice trails off and Axle laughs out loud, but the door to the shop opens at that moment and Marla gets busy handling her customer.
“What should I tell her?” I hiss to him.
Axle just wraps a hand around the back of my neck and gives me a firm but tender squeeze. “Babe, let me handle this.”
Well I like that. “Sure,” I say, as the customer leaves with his purchase and Marla turns back to us.
“Spill, girl,” she says. “I’ve known Axle for years, and it’s blowing my mind that you two know each other.”
What’s he going to tell her?
“She was a young girl, right out of high school, when we met,” he says. “I was a newly-ordained priest who lived on her street. We fell in love, had an illicit affair, then broke it off when things got too intense.”
Marla blinks. Her mouth hangs open, mirroring mine. He did not.
“Well,” I say with a sardonic laugh, “Maybe you should tell her the truth now? Stop hiding the facts?”
“And now,” he continues, as if there is nothing at all scandalous or wrong about this, “I found her again. As you’re well aware, I’m no longer a priest. She’s a full-grown woman. And here we are.” My heart’s doing strange, wonderful, fluttery things in my chest. Marla’s grinning. But soon, it fades, because he’s drawing closer to me, his hand on the back of my neck is pulling me to him. Then he’s kissing me, right here in the store, just a quick brush of lips.
I close my eyes when he comes back in for more. I can’t even care that Marla’s here, that anyone could walk in at any minute, that I’m a new person now that he doesn’t even know, and how can he make this claim on me?
Because this is right. Perfect.
Necessary.
I need more, which is exactly what he wants from me. I lean into the kiss while Marla whoops out loud. The door to the bookstore clangs again and I’m only mildly troubled, because he’s still kissing me and hell, I’m not stopping this.
“Books, and cake, and kisses?” The accent gets my attention, and Axle lets me go. Viktor stands the entryway.
“Honey, it’s ‘buy a book, get a kiss day,’” Marla says. “What book will you have?”
“Five of whatever he bought,” Viktor says.
“Limited edition,” Axle grits out, and I think he’s the only one not amused.
“We’re talking about books,” I whisper in his ear.
“You’re talking about books,” he amends.
Viktor walks to Axle and extends his hand. “Viktor,” he says. “Not sure we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”
“Axle.” They shake so hard it looks painful, and I wince involuntarily. Well then. It looks like I just walked right into a pissing match.
Viktor finally lets go and turns to Marla, and they go back behind the desk and talk to one another. Axle helps me stock some shelves, place sale tags on new releases in the front, and fill some online orders we got overnight.