Field Testing
Note to self: She is mine. Not his— mine .
W aking up with Pierce could quickly become one of my favorite things in this life. His firm body had wrapped around me all night, holding me gently while I slept.
The morning after my call with Jackson, it finally sank in that Pierce was real. I wasn’t in a coma somewhere, or, worse, dead. Which I was especially grateful for because my life had finally been thrown out of its routine, and I loved that.
Amelia had accepted my response, and I checked in with her again letting her know I was just getting some real good dick. The string of emojis she sent in response had me cackling.
For the last hour, we’d been browsing the library for more western romances. Apparently, Pierce really liked how Her Mail-Order Cowboy was going, and wanted to stock up. I was more than happy to oblige.
My footsteps were quiet as I walked the rows of books, eyes trailing over the options. It was dim in the small library, and the smell of books, that signature scent you couldn’t reproduce, draped around me like a comforting blanket. I loved escaping into a fantasy romance, or a paranormal romance, or a why-choose romance . . . I guess any romance did it for me. Especially if there was smut. But this trip was for Pierce.
At the end of the adult fiction aisle, I spotted him.
Six foot one inches of lean, gorgeous man leaned against the sturdy wall of books. Still, I eyed the structure to make sure it would hold.
We’d stopped by Target beforehand and picked him up some more clothes, and a few other personal hygiene items—including his own toothbrush—and now he wore a simple white tee shirt over a pair of dark jeans rolled at the ankle, and white converse shoes. A lock of his messy brown hair fell in front of his face while he read whatever book had caught his fancy, his right hand trailing along the page as his eyes scanned each line.
His lithe fingers were sinewy but strong, with a few prominent veins splicing over the back of his hand.
I wanted those hands wrapped around my neck.
Not now, Harper .
I shook myself back to reality. “Hey, you ready for the next stop?”
I figured it was best to help Pierce experience a whole variety of activities to expand his horizons—and hopefully emotional depth. Although part of me—okay, most of me—was terrified that afterwards he’d realize there was so much more to life than just me , it didn’t feel right to keep him cooped up in my condo.
Pierce looked up at the sound of my voice, his chocolate eyes heated. I glanced at the cover of the book he was reading: Her Demonic Pen-Pal .
I felt my cheeks grow hot, though I didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if this man had been literally face-first with my vagina yesterday.
“That depends, is the next spot somewhere where I can fuck you with my tongue?” His eyebrows waggled salaciously as an older couple walked by us. “This book has quite a few inspiring scenes.” He shook the paperback and smirked at me.
My face must’ve been as red as a cherry tomato, but the older man just winked while his wife chuckled.
“Pierce, what the fuck ,” I whispered through clenched teeth. “You can’t talk like that in public!”
“Then let’s go home so I can talk like that in private.”
My pussy hummed in approval.
His solution was so simple, and yet completely the opposite of what I was trying to do.
“No, we have plans , remember?” My brows raised as I held his gaze.
He searched my face, the heat cooling to a simmer in his posture. He nodded and stooped to collect a few more books by his feet. I checked out the titles and I felt the blood rush back to my face. For fuck’s sake, this man was into some raunchy shit.
I loved it.
Checking out his haul, we loaded the books into the car before walking across the street to the coffee shop. Pierce opened the door for me, like a gentleman, and it wasn’t until I crossed the threshold that I paused. Pierce ran into my back a second later, wrapping an arm around my waist to steady us before we fell to the floor.
“You opened the door for me,” I said plainly.
Pierce froze like a deer in headlights. “Should I not have?”
How would he have known that was the chivalrous thing to do? What—or who—taught him that?
Questions flew around my brain, each one too sensitive to ask in public.
Pierce must’ve mistaken my silence for anger, as his hands raised in apology. “I won’t do it again,” he began, eyes darting around the cafe, “if it bothers you.”
“No, I’m sorry, that’s not it,” I said, pulling his hands down and stepping closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I just realized I never told you that it’s chivalrous for a man to do that, and yet you just did it.”
Pierce nodded, following my train of thought and hopefully hearing the unspoken words.
“I saw another man open the library door for his female companion, so I figured I should do that for you.”
Interesting . . .
So he actively saw an interaction, understood the social cues and conditions, and implemented his findings the next time he saw an opportunity to do so.
If only all men were like that.
“Female companion, Pierce? Is that all I am?” I winked at him and smiled, laughter bubbling in my chest.
Pierce wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear—apparently he liked to do that—before leaning down to whisper: “You are my goddess, remember?”
My heart fluttered, daring to hope that his words would remain true.
Quickly, I struck a kiss on his cheek, before twirling away to step up to the counter.
Ben, the barista whose name I always forgot and had to check his name tag for, smiled at me .
“Hi, Harper,” he beamed, “what can I get for you today?” Dear god, it was like he had stars in his eyes.
“My usual, please. And”—I turned to look over my right shoulder at Pierce—“whatever he’d like.”
Ben looked over to Pierce, whose arm wrapped around my waist, and his light dimmed. The barista gulped, and the silence stretched between the three of us.
Pierce tossed me a look that read something like you’ll pay for this , before he scanned the menu. I knew he wouldn’t know what any of it meant and I suppressed my chuckle, my hand moving to hide my slight smile. Pierce just stabbed me in the ribs with a firm finger.
“Just give me whatever she gets, please,” he said after a moment, before pulling me against his chest. While his words were pleasant enough, his posture screamed otherwise. He was staking his claim.
My blood rushed at the declaration. Mostly to my lower half, but still. I didn’t mind it one bit.
Ben’s smile faded a shade, gulping nervously before giving our total. I paid with a tap of my phone, and we moved aside to wait off. I slumped onto a bar stool, leaning onto Pierce as we listened to the soft pop music playing quietly in the background.
“Please tell me this is going to be better than that poison you tried to kill me with yesterday?”
I snorted, earning a wary look from Ben.
“I promise you’ll like this. You like sweet treats, right?” Tossing a wink at Pierce, I saw the moment he understood the double meaning to my words.
“But you don’t taste sweet, darling,” he said, voice low enough for only us to hear . . . I hoped. “You taste like sin. No,” he amended, a devilish glint to his eyes, “you taste like salvation .” With that, Pierce hooked a finger around my chin, tilting my face to his before he slammed his lips to mine.
I fell into his kiss, forgetting altogether that we were in my regular cafe. Pierce’s hand wrapped over my jaw, cradling my face as he kissed me. Slick began to gather between my legs and I clenched my thighs on instinct. The yellow floral midi skirt I wore did nothing to provide any relief.
“Harper, I have your drinks,” Ben called from a few feet away.
I sprang up, blood rushing to my face. I couldn’t believe we just made out in public like a bunch of horny teenagers.
Fuck, I’d need to find a new cafe to frequent.
Which was a shame since The Bean’s Knees was in walking distance to my condo.
Dammit.
I mouthed thanks to Ben and quickly grabbed our drinks, practically pulling Pierce out by the arm. Pierce was busy throwing a peace sign and smirk to the barista I’d probably never see again.
As we stepped into the afternoon sun, Pierce took a coffee with one hand and my now free hand with the other.
This time I was quicker to get over the shock, but looked at him inquiringly nonetheless.
“It was in that book,” he said simply, though I didn’t know which he was referring to. I supposed it could’ve been any of of them. We’d spent at least an hour wandering the library, and Pierce had flipped through a variety of books.
The rate at which he was learning should’ve been alarming, but all it did was settle the nerves in my stomach.
“So: library—check. Medieval torture device—check.”
I elbowed him in the ribs, chuckling at his dramatics.
“Would you like a guess as to where we’re going next? ”
Pierce’s face sobered, all humor draining from his face. “I promise you, Harper, if we’re not heading back home so I can finally sink inside of you, I’m going to lose my mind.”
I froze on the sidewalk, staring at him slack jawed. My heart thumped in my chest, my pussy throbbed in my panties. Sweat gathered at the nape of my neck while we started at each other, before Pierce cracked a smile.
“Just kidding, right? That’s the whole point of today, to teach me that there’s ‘more to life than just sex.’ Well, let’s get on it! Teach me, already!” Pierce made an exasperated face and I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Yes, and next on the list is . . .” I slapped my hands on my thighs in a drum roll, earning a smile from him. “ Fear Farm !”
Pierce’s smile slowly faded, his upper lip curling as his brows pinched.
“What’s a Fear Farm ?”
I bit my lip, stifling a laugh at his adorable look of apprehension. “It’s a farm with a few mazes where you pay people to scare you. They run at you with chainsaws while covered in fake blood, and bright lights flash as creepy music plays to disorient you.” I couldn’t resist, my smile broke through my poker face. I wasn’t taking him to Fear Farm . . . yet .
“Why would you want to . . . pay someone to scare you?” His brows remained furrowed, and he glanced around like a camera crew was going to pop out.
“It’s the adrenaline rush. It makes you feel alive .”
“Alive . . .” Pierce didn’t sound like he understood. And that was like a knife to my chest.
I needed to switch gears.
“I’m just kidding, I wouldn’t start you off like that.” My hands grew clammy from my misstep .
Pierce visibly settled as my words washed over him.
“No, we’re just going to see Lady Killer .” It was the most recently released thriller, but shouldn’t be too scary. I wanted his heart racing, not flat-lining. “Don’t worry, if you get too scared, I’ll let you hold my hand.”
Pierce rolled his eyes, and I was glad to know that he was picking up on my sarcasm. It seemed like every hour that passed, he inflated into a real person. It was as if he absorbed the life around him.
I couldn’t wait to see who he ended up becoming.
Even if most of me was still terrified of the unknown.
* * *
I slapped a hand over Pierce’s mouth. Popcorn was splashed onto the floor and he was screaming like a terrified kid as a woman wearing a demon mask chased down her abusers and killed them off horrifically.
Personally, I loved it.
Watching a woman take revenge into her own hands? I loved to see it.
We supported women’s wrongs here, folks!
Pierce was hiding behind his fingers and I slipped a hand over to squeeze his thigh. His trembling hand snatched mine quickly, adding it to the shield over his eyes.
“It’s not real, Pierce,” I whispered gently. “Do you want to leave?”
The barest of movement as he shook his head had me settling back into my seat. There was probably only another fifteen minutes left, anyway.
Leaning over to whisper, with each word I brushed the shell of his ear: “How’d you like to learn what else people do in a movie theater?”
Pierce glanced over to me, a question in the pinch of his brow. Drawing my finger over his light scruff, I tilted his face towards mine and kissed him. I’d sat us at the very top of the theater strategically, with exactly this intention.
The theater was pretty empty at four in the afternoon on a Wednesday—only a few people sat towards the front of the theater—but still. I wanted that privacy with him.
Pierce returned my kiss with ferocity, and I knew the blood coursing through his veins demanded release. Lips, tongues, and teeth clashed as screams of the dying played in front of us.
And they said romance was dead.
My chest heaved as he slipped a hand over my breast, sweeping a finger into the baby tee to tweak my nipple. I moaned into his mouth, and he caught the sound with his own. Pierce gripped one hand on the nape of my neck, cradling my face like a precious treasure, while the other continued to tease my nipples.
Pierce’s grip tightened once on the back of my neck, before sliding down to my hip, pulling me closer. My hands blindly reached for the armrest, rushing up for air and tossing it up as I did. When it no longer barred my access, I slid my knee over Pierce’s lap, right as Pierce yanked me on top of him.
His hands gripped my hips, rolling me as he thrust upwards into me. The thin material of my skirt meant I felt each and every roll of his cock on my pussy. I whimpered, trying to stay quiet as we kissed, but with second that passed, I felt myself drawing up to that edge.
Then suddenly my eyes were burning.
I pulled away and blinked, noting the empty theater and raised lights. Pierce’s lips were swollen and wet from our kiss, and I was sure mine were, too.
My shoulders shook with laughter as I slid off of him and turned around. An attendant had rolled in with his trash can, clearly waiting for us to notice him. Sheepishly, I waved as I fixed my top and grabbed Pierce’s hand to rush out of the theater and into the late afternoon.
“That was amazing ,” Pierce exhaled. Exhilaration was written on his face, a sparkle to his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“You weren’t too scared?”
“I was terrified ,” he said, wonder coating each word. “But I loved it. The thrill, the music, the passion . . . Is that what all movies are like?”
“No . . .” I trailed off, thinking about the vast catalog of movies and genres and tropes, and a smile split my face. It was going to be fun to discover all of the things he enjoyed. “But there are plenty like it.”
The crinkle of his eyes told me I’d spend the rest of my life helping him chase these moments, together.