Read an Excerpt
My pulse skittered against my breast, nipples hard, and cheeks flushed. I had to look away. Our previously raised voices made my ears ring. I wouldn’t allow her to have this kind of effect on me. No way would she see how irate she’d made me because she wasn’t worth it. Plus I couldn’t bear watching her small breasts push up against the checkout counter while she leant toward me. I could sense her even while I examined my toes.
‘You’ve got nothing for me?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ I softly feigned my ignorance, surprised at my level tone.
‘I think you do.’
Her calloused, rough finger slid from my temple to chin, light enough to raise every hair on my neck while reducing my molecular structure to a pile of goop on the dusty wooden floor. I flinched and she tipped up my chin with one finger. My sharp glare couldn’t be missed. I wiped every emotion from my face.
‘I’ll see you around.’
She uttered the promise with a wink that betrayed she was no novice at this particular game.
Two weeks ago, and that small touch had ignited the candle I held for Holly into a bonfire. We’ve interacted a dozen times, perhaps a little more, and she’s the perfect butch to my femme. If I ever get a hold of her again, I won’t let her go. Not until I’ve nickelled and dimed her body for what’s it worth – using the not-so-subtle sexual offering she made me. Maybe I won’t stop – even after I’ve had my fill. Because I’m sure she deserves to suffer. Besides, she wants the pleasure as much as I’m willing to give it.
That’s no secret.
What else could she want at this point? If she wanted a date I wouldn’t turn it down. But this is a lot of trouble for that goal. She keeps taking out books. Doesn’t even bother checking them out any more. It’s not like our library has an airtight security system in the middle of being rebuilt and restructured. Another reason why I have to stay on top of things.
But I’ve noticed the missing erotica while shelving – discreet isn’t her thing. One of the many sins I long to make her pay for – given the right time and place. I click out of the database, prepared to shelve to get her off my mind.
There’s the siren song my ears perk up for every damn Monday like a golden retriever on crack. The smooth transition of gears being shifted. Late 80s-era punk blasting through a teeth-jarring set of speakers. A cherry red and chrome vintage car smoothly purrs through the parking lot. I smooth down my blouse and straighten my brown suit coat.