Chapter 7
seven
. . .
Butch
The crash from the front of the store cuts through our moment like a gunshot.
I'm on my feet before the sound fully registers, body moving on pure instinct.
One second I'm lost in the sweetness of Julia's mouth, the next I'm in protection mode, positioning her behind me.
The storm outside has drawn out the vermin—looters, opportunists, predators.
But they picked the wrong fucking store.
They don't know there's a bigger predator already inside.
"Stay here," I growl at Julia, who's frozen on the couch, eyes wide with fear. "Lock the door behind me. Don't open it unless you hear my voice."
"Butch—" she starts, reaching for me.
"Now." My tone leaves no room for argument. She nods, scrambling to her feet as I slip out the door.
I hear the lock click behind me as I move silently through the darkened store. The power's still out, but emergency lights cast enough glow to navigate by. Another crash from the front, followed by low voices. More than one. Fuckers think they can just walk in and take what isn't theirs.
I grip the heavy flashlight from my tool belt, a solid metal weight that'll do damage if needed. My body settles into a familiar state—calm, focused, lethal. Been here before. Different circumstances, same instincts.
Glass crunches under someone's boot. They've broken the front window despite the security gate, arm reaching through to try and unlock it from inside. Amateur hour. If they'd checked the side alley first, they'd have found easier access.
Their mistake. My advantage.
I position myself in the shadows by the fantasy section, watching. Two of them, both male, both soaking wet from the storm. One's struggling with the lock while the other scans the store with a weak beam from a dollar-store flashlight.
"Hurry the fuck up, man," the second one hisses. "Place might have cash in the register."
"Working on it," the first grunts. "Fucking gate's solid."
Damn right it is. I installed it myself.
I wait until the second guy moves deeper into the store, separating from his partner. Divide and conquer. Basic strategy.
When he passes my aisle, I strike. One hand over his mouth, the other bringing the flashlight down on his temple. Not full force—I'm not looking to kill, just incapacitate. He drops like a stone, unconscious before he hits the ground.
His partner notices the silence. "Deke? Where'd you go, man?"
I move back into the shadows, waiting. Footsteps approach, cautious now. He senses something's wrong.
"Deke? This ain't funny, bro."
He rounds the corner and sees his buddy on the floor. His eyes widen just as I step out behind him.
"Store's closed," I growl.
He whips around, swinging wildly with a knife I hadn't spotted before. Sloppy, amateur move. I catch his wrist, twisting until something pops and the knife clatters to the floor. His howl of pain cuts off abruptly when my fist connects with his solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs.
As he doubles over, gasping, I grab him by the throat and slam him against the nearest bookshelf. Books tumble to the floor around us.
"Listen carefully," I tell him, my voice deadly quiet. "I'm going to let you and your friend walk out of here. But if you ever come back, if you ever so much as look at this store again, I will end you. Understand?"
His eyes are wide with terror as he nods frantically. Good. Fear works better than pain for creating lasting memories.
I drag him to his unconscious partner, haul them both to the broken window, and shove them out into the rain. Then I secure the plywood emergency board I spotted earlier over the broken glass. Not perfect, but it'll hold until the storm passes.
My blood is pumping, adrenaline singing through my veins. Combat high. Been years since I felt it. The world seems sharper, clearer. And through it all, one thought pounds in my head like a hammer:
Protect Julia. Mine. Protect what's mine.
I make my way back to the office, knocking three times so she knows it's me.
"Julia. It's clear. Open up."
The lock clicks and the door swings open. She stands there, pale and trembling, but her eyes—Christ, her eyes are looking at me like I'm some kind of hero.
"Are you hurt?" she asks, reaching for me, checking me over with those delicate hands.
"I'm fine." My voice is rougher than I intended. "Just some punks looking to loot during the storm. They're gone."
She launches herself at me then, arms wrapping around my neck, body pressing against mine. "I was so scared. I heard noises and I thought—"
I cut her off, capturing her mouth with mine. Can't help it. The adrenaline, the need to claim what I protected, it's too strong to resist. She makes a small sound of surprise that quickly turns into a moan as I back her into the office, kicking the door shut behind us.
"No one touches what's mine," I growl against her lips. "No one threatens what's mine."
My hands are everywhere, checking her for injury even as I claim her mouth. She's unharmed, perfect, safe. Because of me. I kept her safe.
"Butch," she gasps as I lift her, carrying her back to the couch. "What—"
"Need you," I grunt, laying her down and covering her body with mine. "Need to feel you. Need to know you're safe."
She doesn't resist, those innocent eyes watching me with trust that squeezes something in my chest. Trust I haven't earned. Trust I'm determined to deserve.
"I was so scared," she admits, her small hands clutching at my shoulders. "Not for me. For you."
Scared for me. When was the last time someone worried about my safety? Can't remember. Maybe never.
"Nothing's going to happen to me," I promise her, brushing hair from her face. "And nothing's going to happen to you. Not while I'm breathing."
I kiss her again, deeper this time, letting the last of the combat edge bleed into it. She responds beautifully, opening for me, letting me claim her mouth completely.
"You know what seeing you like this does to me?" I murmur against her neck, nipping at the tender skin. "Worried about me. Caring about me. Makes me want to fuck you right here, fill you up with my cum, put my baby in you so everyone knows you're mine."
She gasps, body arching into mine. "Butch!"
"Too much?" I pull back slightly, studying her face. "Too rough?"
She shakes her head, cheeks flushed pink. "No, it's just—no one's ever talked to me like that."
"Get used to it." My hand slides under her shirt, finding bare skin. "Because I plan to tell you exactly what I want to do to you. Every filthy detail. Want you wet and ready for me before I even touch you."
Her breath hitches as my fingers trace patterns on her stomach. So soft. So perfect.
"Such a good girl," I praise, watching her respond to the words. “My naughty little bookworm likes it when daddy talks rough to her, doesn’t she?"
The "daddy" makes her whimper, her hips shifting beneath me. Fuck, she’s gonna kill me.
"You like that?" I ask, voice dropping lower. "Like when daddy tells you how perfect you are? How badly he wants to breed you?"
Her eyes flutter closed, embarrassment and desire warring on her face. "I shouldn't."
"But you do." My hand slides higher, brushing the underside of her breast. "Your body doesn't lie, baby. Tells me everything I need to know."
She's trembling beneath me, a mix of nerves and raw want that makes my cock throb painfully against my zipper. I want nothing more than to strip her bare, spread her open, and claim her completely.
"I want you to give yourself to me," I tell her, forcing myself to slow down. "Not because you're scared or grateful I protected you. But because you want me as badly as I want you."
Her eyes open, meeting mine with surprising steadiness. "I do want you."
Four simple words that nearly break my control.
"Then be mine," I growl. "Not just tonight. Not just during this storm. Be mine forever, Julia."
She should laugh. Should tell me I'm moving too fast, that real life doesn't work this way. Instead, she reaches up to touch my face, fingers gentle against my stubbled jaw.
"I think I already am," she whispers.
Something cracks open in my chest—something I thought died years ago. I capture her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.
"Gonna take care of you," I promise. "Keep you safe. Give you everything you need."
Outside, the storm continues to rage, wind and rain battering the small bookstore. But in here, in this moment, I've found something worth protecting. Something worth claiming.
Something worth changing for.
I lower my mouth to hers again, gentler this time. "My good girl," I murmur against her lips. "Daddy's perfect angel."
The words make her shiver, her body yielding beneath mine. And I know, with absolute certainty, that I will do whatever it takes to keep her. To deserve her. To be the man she's looking at me like I already am.