His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, and I’m suddenly mesmerized. My fingers trace the seam of my lips before I can register what I’m doing. In haste, I rip my hand to my side, rapping it against the bookshelf behind me.
“Ow, fuck.” I shake out the stinging pain. Maybe that’ll teach my damn hand a lesson about going rogue.
Seth whips around on impact, almost like he’s the one who slapped the shelf. “You okay?” He asks softly, cocking his head to the side.
“Fine. Sorry.”
The pink of his lips curves into a crooked smirk that makes my heart do weird fluttering things. It’s official. Seth Aarons’s aura is suffocating me. Death is imminent. “Yeah, now I know you’re not okay. I didn’t know you knew that word, Ms. Finch.” He grips my hand, rubbing the point of contact.
“Neither did I,” I say, mouth slightly agape.
A gentle breeze swirls around us. A pull tightens in my gut like it’s tugging me towards Seth, and I almost don’t want to fight it. Complacency feels natural.
Asphyxiation causes hallucinations, right?
He flashes an almost affectionate smile as his soft gaze glows like warm candlelight over my face. His thumb massages my palm, turning my hand over and inspecting it. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Mmhmm.” Sparks follow in the wake of his touch, and goosebumps pebble the flesh on my arms.
An overhead light flickers, and when my eyes adjust, every feeling is as it should be.
“Seth Aarons,” I hiss. “Get your greasy paws off my hands.”
He blinks. Once. Twice. Withdrawing his hand, he shakes his head like he’s trying to snap himself out of something. “Right. Sorry, I—thought your hand might be broken.”
“What the hell?” Connor’s angry voice cuts through all our confusion as he thunders in from the top of the aisle.
Seth straightens with a few more rapid blinks, pulling a book out beside my head. Shivers race down my spine as his heat draws closer.
“This should help with your problem, Barbie.” The bastard winks at me, shoving a book with a shirtless postal worker on the cover titledMale Delivery: Over-Sized Packagein my hand and attempting to walk past Connor.
With his fists balled to his side, my boyfriend’s broad figure mirrors and blocks Seth’s steps. While Lumberjack Frasier’s tall, gangly frame looms over Connor, Connor has the muscle. Although I would love for Seth to get his ass kicked, there’s this odd part clawing its way to the surface that wants to protect him at all costs, and I blame this fucking store.
“Connor, he’s fine. Leave him,” I snap.
His gaze oscillates between Seth and me. “But he was—you were—”
“He wasn’t doing anything. Seriously, do you think I would let a loser like that touch me without losing his testicles?”
“But I saw him.”
“Baby, you saw nothing.” I shake my head, getting closer and pressing my body against his. That I have to do any of this, given that Connor and Jenny were in a very similar position only two minutes ago, is complete BS, but I’ll fight about double standards with Connor another time. Right now, I want to leave this GD store, and placating Connor’s ego is the best strategy to expedite that.
I give him three seconds before he scoops me up and lays the thickest, sloppiest kiss on my lips to mark his territory.
One. Two—
On three, without fail, Connor’s face eats mine.
It’s wet and unpleasant, much like the word “moist” itself.
“It’s a kiss. You’re not supposed to drown her,” Seth says dryly as he walks past us.
Seriously, Seth? I’m saving your ass right now.
Connor pulls away from my lips, shooting daggers in Seth’s direction, and I draw him back down, moaning in his mouth.
“Jenny, you good? We gotta pick up the toys before going to the Youth Center; they should be ready now,” Seth hollers while the lights flicker above.
