Morning comesbut the storm doesn't break. Rain still hammers against the windows, wind howling like a living thing. The roads are flooded, power still out across most of town according to the emergency radio. We're not going anywhere, and that suits me just fucking fine. More time with Julia in this bubble, away from the world trying to take what's mine.
She slept in my arms last night, curled against my chest in the armchair. I stayed awake, watching her, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the flutter of her eyelashes, the small sounds she made in sleep. My cock stayed hard the entire night, but I didn't touch her beyond holding her close. Not yet. When I take her, I want her eyes open. Want her fully aware of who's claiming her.
Now she's moving around the store, checking for damage, straightening books knocked loose by the storm's vibrations. I watch her from where I'm checking the security system, making sure the backup batteries are still functioning. Every movement she makes pulls at something in my chest. Something I thought died years ago.
"The landline's working," she calls from the front counter, holding up the store phone. "Cell service is still down, though."
I grunt in acknowledgment. Don't need a phone. Don't need anyone interrupting this time with her.
The phone rings suddenly, startling both of us. Julia answers, her voice professional despite her rumpled clothes and sleep-mussed hair.
"Pages & Petals, this is Julia…Yes, we're okay, just trapped by the flooding…No, I don't think we'll be open today..."
Her laugh carries across the store—light, musical. Something in me tightens, alert like a predator sensing movement.
"That's very sweet of you to check on me, Derek…Yes, I remember you from last week's poetry reading..."
Derek? Who the fuck is this Derek? My hands clench on the tools I'm holding. Some fucking poetry boy, concerned aboutmyJulia. Checking on her.
"Oh, I'm not alone…The security installer was here when the storm hit..." Her eyes flick to me, then away quickly. "No, that's really not necessary..."
I set down my tools and move toward her, each step deliberate. She's still talking, still smiling that sweet smile into the receiver. Still letting this Derek think he has a right to her time, her attention.
"That's kind, but I'm sure once the roads clear…No, I don't need you to bring anything..."
I'm behind her now. Close enough to hear the tinny voice on the other end of the line.
"I could wade through a little water for you, Julia. Anything for my favorite bookstore owner. Maybe once I get there, we could have that coffee you promised..."
She never promised him shit. I know it in my bones. But this asshole is making claims, trying to stake territory that's already marked.
Mine!
My hand closes over hers on the receiver, pressing the disconnect button. Her eyes widen as she turns to face me.
"Butch, what are you?—"
I back her against the counter, caging her between my arms. "Who the fuck is Derek?"
She blinks, confusion crossing her features. "Just a customer. He comes to the poetry readings and?—"
"And wants in your pants." My voice is a growl, barely human.
Pink floods her cheeks. "No, it's not like that. He's just being nice?—"
"Men aren't nice to beautiful women without wanting something in return." My face lowers toward hers, our breaths mingling. "He wants what's mine."
Her lips part in surprise. "Yours? I'm not?—"
I cut her off, capturing her mouth with mine. Nothing gentle about it. Nothing sweet. This is claiming, pure and raw. My tongue pushes past her lips, tasting her, marking her. My hands slide down to grip her hips, lifting her onto the counter without breaking the kiss.
For one heartbeat, she's frozen. Then she melts against me, a small whimper escaping her throat as her arms wind around my neck. Her response ignites something primal in me, something that wants to tear and claim and possess.
I pull back just enough to look at her—lips swollen from my kiss, eyes dazed, chest rising and falling rapidly. Beautiful.Mine.
"No more Derek," I growl. "No more anyone. You understand me? You're mine now."
She should protest. Should tell me I'm crazy, that I have no right. Instead, she nods, those innocent eyes wide with something that looks like wonder.
