The Indie – Summer
THE INDIE
SUMMER
Later That Weekend
Itossed my favorite bookends into a box and sealed it tightly. Then I tore down the pink drapes that hung over a reading nook and stuffed them into a plastic bag.
I walked over to the “Readers Behaving Badly Wall” and snatched down photos—tossing them into the trash. When I reached Adrian’s, I stuffed it into my pocket.
He’s still good late-night fantasy material…
There was no use in delaying the inevitable.
I had thirteen days left this month, and I couldn’t attract enough customers to cover another rent charge. I was hoping the landlord would let me break the lease, but that was a problem for another day.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Some poor confused soul rang our doorbell.
“We’re closed!” I called out. “Try the bookstore across the street!”
Ding! Ding! Ding!
“We’re freakin’ closed!” I shouted louder. “Go across the damn street!”
Ding! Ding! Ding!
“Ugh!” I jumped down from my chair and stormed over to the door.
“We’re out of business!” I yelled as I swung it open. “We…”
My voice trailed off at the sight of Adrian wearing something I’d never seen him wear before. A black T-shirt that clung to his muscles in all the best places, and a pair of dark blue jeans.
He was also holding a bouquet of red roses.
“We’re closed,” I said, my voice cracking. “Sinclair Street Books should have everything you need.”
“If that were the case, you’d be over there…” He looked into my eyes. “Can I come in?”
“No.”
“Are you going to make me ask twice?”
I held the door open for him, and he moved inside.
“Make whatever you have to say quick,” I said, locking it behind him. “My new boyfriend is coming to help me move, and it’d be really weird seeing you in here.”
“I’m really tired of you making up pretend boyfriends,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s unnecessary, and it makes me jealous.”
“Well, having a successful bookstore makes me jealous, so I guess we can both live our lives with things we can’t have.” I shrugged. “What do you want?”
“You.”
Silence.
“Um…” I shook my head as he set the flowers on the chair next to me. “Well, seeing as though I didn’t even want to go on a date with you, I—”
“This is what’s about to happen, Summer Connors.” He pressed his finger against my lips. “I’m going to push you against that pink wall, and we’re going to pick up where we left off in that alley weeks ago.”
My breath hitched in my throat.
“You’re going to let me fuck you until you scream my name, until you don’t have to fantasize about fake book boyfriends anymore, and then after I eat your pussy, you’re going to talk to me.”
I swallowed.
“Are we on the same page?”
I nodded.
“Good.”
I grabbed the front of his shirt before he could make the first move and pulled his mouth to mine.
He backed me against the wall, kissing me harder than he had in the alley, like he’d spent every day since then thinking about finishing what we’d started.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one.
My hands disappeared beneath his T-shirt, and I immediately hated every custom suit he’d ever worn for keeping this from me.
His palms slid under my dress again, and I moaned against his mouth as he tore off my panties in one smooth motion.
He pulled a condom from his pocket.
I stared at it. “You came prepared?”
“I came hopeful.”
“Arrogant.”
“Prepared.”
He unzipped his jeans.
Grabbing my hand, he pressed it against his rock-hard cock, and I sucked in a breath as he guided it along his length.
Every filthy thought I’d ever had about him suddenly felt wildly inadequate.
“Still thinking about your book boyfriends?” he murmured.
“Shut up.”
I pushed down his briefs, holding back a gasp as he took it out.
Tearing the packet with his teeth, he rolled the condom over his cock.
How do you want it? His eyes held the question.
Slow…but hard. I answered back with mine.
Without another word, he lifted my left leg and gently eased me onto him inch by inch.
I tightened my arms around his neck, my forehead falling against his as he slowly closed the distance between us.
“Adrian…”
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
His mouth curved against mine.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Ahhhh…” I dug my nails into his skin until he was entirely inside, until he’d stretched me full.
With every stroke, I hated him a little less and hated myself a little more for enjoying it.
“Do your book boyfriends fuck you like this?” he murmured against my lips.
“They don’t talk this much.”
His next thrust stole the smirk off my face.
“What was that?”
“Fuck you.”
“You are.”
I tried to glare at him, but his rhythm changed, and whatever smart remark I’d been preparing vanished.
I clung to him harder, every breath coming shorter than the last.
“Adrian…”
“I know.”
God, I hated how smug he sounded.
I hated even more that he was right.
I was too overwhelmed to say anything else, too close to the edge.
Waves of pleasure wracked through my body, and before I knew it, I was screaming his name at the top of my lungs.
He stiffened right after me, holding me taut as he found his own release.
My knees began buckling, and he gently pulled out of me before guiding me down to the floor.
Panting, I looked at him. “What did you want to talk about?”
“No, we’re not at that part yet.” He pulled me closer. “Sit on my face so I can finish giving you exactly what I promised…”
I woke up naked on my carpet sometime later, thoroughly exhausted and painfully aware that Adrian Sinclair kept his promises.
My hands were splayed against his chest.
He was running his fingers through my hair and kissing my forehead.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m sore.”
He let out a low laugh and pulled me on top of him.
I felt my cheeks heating as he ran his palms along my sides.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” I asked.
“I know you’re obsessed with romance books,” he said. “But can we skip the next part of our story?”
“What do you mean?”
“After this, you’re supposed to spend several chapters convincing yourself we can’t work because I’m partly responsible for destroying your business.”
“Partly?”
“Fine. Mostly.”
“Entirely.”
“Summer.”
“Adrian.”
“Then you’ll ignore my calls, I’ll show up everywhere you go, and eventually I’ll have to grovel with flowers and promises until you forgive me.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I’d rather skip ahead.”
“Why would I ever agree to that?”
“Because a week’s worth of roses are already in my backseat.”
I laughed.
“And I promise to never fucking hurt you again,” he said.
“But I’ll miss out on pages of why you hurt me to begin with.”
His smile faded.
“I was trying to beat you,” he said. “I wasn’t trying to destroy you.”
“There’s a difference?”
“There is to me now.” He pushed a strand of hair off my face. “I didn’t know how badly you were struggling.”
I stilled. “How do you know how badly I was struggling?”
Silence.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Adrian.”
“Before I answer that, I’d like you to remember that I came here with flowers.”
“What did you do?”
“I may have acquired some information about your finances.”
“You what?”
“I needed to know how bad things were.”
“How?”
“I persuaded someone at your bank to give me the information.”
My jaw dropped. “You committed a federal crime?”
“Allegedly.”
“You literally just confessed.”
“To you.”
“Oh my God.”
“Can we go back to discussing the flowers?”
“No.”
“Fine.” He sighed. “If you still want Slow Burn, I’ll give you every resource I have to rebuild it. But you decide what it becomes.”
I stared at him.
“That’s suspiciously generous.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“You wouldn’t have done any of this if you’d known who I was the night we first met?”
“I still would’ve opened my store.”
“Of course.”
“But I would’ve had sex with you sooner.”
“Seriously?”
He laughed, pressing a kiss against my cheek. “And I don’t think I would’ve been as vicious.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You should,” he said. “I have no reason to lie at this point.” His fingers traced my side. “Can we please skip the next part?”
“Yes…” I nodded. “But only if you promise an epilogue…”