9. Helene #2
I wink at Audra and head back into no man’s land. Cobwebs drape intricate designs onto the lower shelves, and the books, rather than gleam, resign themselves to a dusty dull existence.
I bend and drop the box.
“I see Dickenson needs a little love. Don’t you worry. We’re going to get you gleaming in no time.”
Smiling, knees cracking slightly on liftoff, I grab a package of cleaning supplies from the office. The lemon Pledge was a favorite of my Mom’s, too.
Another blistering wave of nostalgia lands as I scrub a clean path across the shelf and then unpack the novels, arranging them by size first.
“You guys are going to look great with the pressed flower frames. I think I’ll shift them over.” I talk to the books while I work and brush loving fingers over their spines.
It may take a long time but someone is going to come in and love them again. They were adored once, I’m sure of it. Most of these publications came from private collections, and I add the newest stash among them.
This store has a life of its own. Things move when I don’t expect it, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s a sanctuary, a safe place to hide when life gets too heavy.
When is it not heavy?
I stretch, hands at the small of my back, working out the kinks. The regular ones and not the ones from fighting a troll.
It was probably some poor creature who got too close to a chemical spill. Where was the nearest power plant?
And I’d killed it.
The stranger mentioned something about being trained to fight, about remembering how to do it.
How could I remember something I never learned?
“A handsome psychopath,” I mutter.
Aren’t they all?
The sign on the front door jingles again.
Audra doesn’t offer a greeting to our newcomer. But the footsteps are real, the sound of them and the vibrations coming from every heavy stomp. My heart echoes the tempo before the light dies.
Forest blots out the exit.
His hair falls thick and tousled over his face like sunlit wheat with a hint of red. His eyes, ice-blue with a wild glint, see everything and take me in from head to foot. Today his fair tone is flushed and weather worn, his cheeks ruddy, the locks a lighter shade of gold.
Big. So big. A mountain of a man.
He probably didn’t turn into a raven.
Broad-shouldered and solid, carved from myth, true Viking energy with a quiet stillness beneath. When he sat across the table from us last night, he’d been a glacier with a heartbeat, dangerous when he moved.
Now there is nothing still about him.
He vibrates with strength and silence as he closes the distance between us. His name freezes in my throat when he pushes me onto the bookshelf.
The wood nudges my spine, the scent of wax and vellum and cleaner pungent in the air, and then it all melts away. His hands land on my hips, dragging me against him, before his mouth claims mine.
I push both palms to his chest on instinct. “You can’t come in here and—” The inch I gained disappears under the cage of his body.
He glides a hand up my ribcage, across the underside of my breast, and overhead, gripping the shelf. The harsh demand of his lips threatens to burn me alive. The heat rolling off his skin is natural, right, perfect.
“I needed to feel you.”
He steps into me and my breathing goes panic attack fast. Forest kisses me into silence with the pressure of his mouth, hot and needy, his tongue begging for entry. He squeezes my waist before reaching up to grip my face in his hand.
Damn me.
I melt into him.
This isn’t the kind of kiss you fight. It’s not the type you catalog and try to put into a box to understand. This is the kiss of someone who wants all of me and is determined to have it.
Anything and everything is his for the taking.
My heart pounds at my chest, and I break away from the embrace for much needed air.
Forest refuses to accept the space. “Helene.”
I’ve suddenly become the most important person in the room, and when his tongue grazes mine, a lightness takes over my soul. How odd, how fascinating, how right to be there in his arms.
“Tell me to leave.” There's a challenge in his tone as he presses me into the shelf, rasping into something feral. “Tell me.”
His body dominates, and the look in his eyes promises the same. A growl pushes out of him as he peers down at me.
I arch my brows and loop my arms around his neck to drag his head down.
The curve of his muscles underneath his shirt, underneath the strange cape he’s still wearing, flex beneath my searching hand. I pause at the leather straps over his shoulder then lose my composure when he drops a hand to cup my breast.
He arches his hips against me and the distinctive span of cold steel digs into my flank.
I pull my lips free from his, my mind spiraling, his index finger and thumb circling my nipple until it hardens further.
“Why are you walking around with a belt of knives?” Is that my voice?
The breathy, hoarse moan? It can’t be me.
Forest chuckles and circles his pelvis. It takes the pressure of the dagger off my side but drags another delicious length across my front.
“The better to protect you with, Helene.” His cadence scrapes his throat and pulls my name up from somewhere deep inside of him. “Although you don’t need protection.”
“Maybe I do.”
Not from him. Or maybe I do there as well because anyone could walk into the shop and see us here. The narrow aisles and the towering shelves, the old books and odds and ends only offer so much security. Barnes could be back from his errands any minute.
“Audra—” I start.
Forest silences me with another searing kiss. “She’ll be fine.”
I want her to be. Oh, I want her to be fine, like I want this beast of a man to put his hands on me.
He growls, reacting to my unspoken demand. He hauls me into his arms and forces me to hold on tight to his neck as he maneuvers us toward the back of the store. The last bits of air in my lungs belong to him.
The flush travels from my cheeks all the way down my front and between my legs. My pussy throbs.
“You’re so receptive.” Forest lifts his thigh to the juncture of my legs.
He balances his foot on a shelf.
“I feel your heat,” he murmurs, bucking his leg until I clench to keep from sliding off. “You’re radiant.”
This is wrong. I’m acting like a horny teenager instead of a grown ass adult.
Forest slides his tongue inside my lips to taste me and I moan through the deepening kiss. I’m at work. He’s a stranger. I don’t know anything about him or where he came from, not to mention my sister is right there.
This is unprofessional and stupid.
Those things are overrated anyway.
But why can’t I stop?
Why do I grind myself to the steely hardness of his legs to increase the friction? The pressure on my clit sends spiraling waves of pleasure up through me.
“Yes, that’s it,” Forest urges. He kisses me hungrily, devouring me, obliterating common sense. “Use me for your desires.”
I break off and clamp down on my lower lip. It feels too good to call it quits now. And I have needs.
Like anyone else.
How long has it been since someone touched me? Long enough to have me lusting over two men in one day, apparently.
Forest growls and drags his hands across my breasts and down to my waist. He’s huge. Those fingers are long enough to touch along my spine with his thumbs on my hips.
Does he play professional football as well as cosplay? Because Jesus fuck.
How would those digits feel inside of me?
“Such a good girl.” He nips my earlobe.
I clench, the fabric of my underwear brushing against my clit, soaked through. He doesn’t need to dirty talk.
The scrape of his beard is sufficient.
“You like this, don’t you? Being in control? Using me for your pleasure.” Forest breathes me in. “You’ll like it even better when you come.”
He’s right. The playful tussle only added another level to the encounter. And the fact that I should not be doing this—
I grit my teeth, my insides going tight, preparing for the final leap off the cliff. The orgasm is right there.
“Lose yourself, Helene.” His tone deepens, focused. “And think about how it would feel to have my mouth on you.”
Ah, jeez. The image does the trick. Breath quickening, I tangle my fingers in his hair, finding his braids and tugging.
I pull his head back, the flash of pain and pleasure mingling in his eyes heady. And I’m halfway tempted to rip my jeans off and have him prove it to me.