Chapter 4 #2
I made a point to busy myself with the seasonal cookie cutters in front of me, feigning interest in the pieces of metal shaped like pumpkins and leaves.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him making a disgusted face while muttering, “Too much millet.” He plunked the bag back onto the shelf, choosing another brand instead.
Then, he was moving. Towards me, getting closer. He stopped at my side, close enough that every subtle shift sounded off like fireworks. The quiet rustling of the fabric of his hoodie, the slight squeak of his boots, even the light tink of his belt buckle against the button of his jeans.
If he weren’t as tall as these shelves, I’d pretend not to notice. But as it were, it was difficult not to notice him. He was unlike anyone else here in town, in the same way Bale had a way of feeling like a centerpiece in an otherwise ordinary setting.
“Harlow, I’m going to be straight with you.”
My heart stuttered in its rhythm.
Corbin stepped in even closer, forcing me to turn to face him, each of our steps in sync like this was some twisted dance where we both revolved around one another.
With the shelves now at my back and both his hands clutched onto the edges of the middle row, the length of his arms caged me in. My pulse spiked.
Refusing to show any ounce of intimidation or unease, I lifted my chin with a sassy smirk for the ages.
“I do love a straight-shooter.” An edge of playful huskiness tugged at my words.
His eyes met mine as his head cocked to one side slightly, and a breathy huff that wasn’t quite a chuckle came out of him. Leaning in until his lips were at my ear and the heat of his voice trickled over my skin, he spoke in a register that did unfair things low in my core.
“You’re everything that this town needs and everything I will ever want.”
The silence between us crackled with an energy that promised total devastation that would leave us both in ruins. Now, the only question was who was going to succumb to it first.
Taking a deep inhale, the tip of Corbin’s nose dragged down over my jaw and onto the side of my neck. One large hand dropped to grab my hip, possessively grasping onto me like I might fly away if given the chance.
I fought the urge to lean into the contact, to press myself against him like a cat scent-marking.
When I spoke, the words barely came out evenly. “Bold words from a guy who just had a dick measuring contest with his friend.”
Before I could blink, my back made contact with the unforgiving metal shelves behind me. Corbin’s body was flush against mine with his mouth hovering over my own.
With a mischievous gleam in his amber eyes, his hips rolled against me. The sinful movement pressed the unmistakably hardened outline of his cock against me.
“How’s this for measurements?” he murmured.
My breath caught in my throat; my wit escaped me for exactly three pulsing aches between my thighs.
Finally finding my voice again, I flashed a wobbly smile. “Notable. Too bad you’ll need more than just charms and a loaded… ego to impress me.”
Undeterred by my response, he bore an even wider grin. He made the barest of movements, indicating he was going for the kill and stealing whatever remained of my breath.
“Well, Harlow, you’ve managed to impress me. And trust me when I tell you that it is no easy task.” One of his hands skimmed down my side until it found the hem of my sweater.
The size of his palm felt like it could anchor me here to this spot with very little effort. God help me, part of me almost wanted him to try.
Latching onto what little bravado that remained, I ignored my heart rate upticking at an alarming rate. Also ignored the way his did the same.
“I’m flattered,” I let the sarcasm hang thick on the words. “But unlike you, I prefer to keep first impressions close to the chest.”
Corbin’s fingertips dipped beneath my sweater, tracing over my hip up until he found the waist of my jeans. One finger crooked, latching onto a belt loop where he gave it a playful tug. The action had me sway towards him, forcing my hands to brace against his torso.
The muscles concealed beneath the fabric of his hoodie tensed underneath my touch. Based on the way he sucked in a breath, the contact affected him more than he expected.
“Careful, Harlow,” he warned. “Keep putting your hands on me like that, and instead of first impressions, we’ll be talking about lasting ones.”
My tongue slipped between my lips, wetting them in one deliberately slow movement. Looking up at him through my lashes, there was more than lust in his dilated pupils. The golden irises possessed something genuine inside them, something that might be unfiltered honesty in his intentions.
Each downbeat of our hearts seemed to sync, the rhythm inching our mouths closer together until we could almost taste one another.
Conflicting instincts sent mixed signals to my brain. On one hand, I wanted to throw caution to the wind and pounce recklessly. On the other? A voice whispered that even predators could masquerade as prey when it suited them.
The tiny voice won out, for now.
Quick to find a suitable distraction, my hand dropped down to my side, slipping behind me. It batted a cardboard box of mini disco ball keychains off the shelf in one determined swipe. The reflective trinkets scattered and proved to be an effective aid in my getaway.
His grasp on me loosened as his gaze snapped to the dancing lights of the keychains rolling across the linoleum in multiple directions.
In that slip of a moment, I dropped my form into that of an eight-pound cat. My clothes shimmered and vanished alongside my human form, typically to return from whatever realm they temporarily resided in when I regained my original form.
Slinking into the shadows between the crevices of the shelf, I silently padded away.
Hearing Corbin’s muttered curse at my disappearing act, my ears twitched, and I stilled.
The sound of his combined frustration and confusion prompted the whiskers on my cheeks to flutter, coming as close to a smile as I could get.
Aisle five—where you find something you didn’t realize you had come in for. Indeed, I had found something unexpected here.