How the fuck do you win in that situation? If I ignore him, I’m mysterious and unattainable. If I go on a pity date with him, I’m a cock tease or opening the door to him thinking there’s a chance. I definitely don’t want to encourage him, but unfortunately, it’s hard to avoid people in a town this size, especially when you work in a public place. Propriety and the rules of customer service indicate I have to play nice.
Brett rakes his eyes along my body, immediately making me feel the need to shower. It’s like his gaze leaves a film of filth on my skin. I suppress a shudder as he drags his eyes back to mine.
He begins to answer, but before he can answer my question, another throat clears behind me for the second time in as many minutes. I feel a long, muscular arm wrap around my hips and pull me just slightly off balance as Flint tugs me against his chest. I can feel the tension in his body, despite the pleasant expression he has on his face.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Brett, this is Flint, our new employee. Flint, this is Brett. He’s an occasional customer.”
What the fuck is this man doing?
Not that I’m complaining. It got me even further away from Brett, and I mean, I’m pressed against the long, hard lines of Flint’s body. I’m winning any way you look at it.
Brett bumps up the wattage on his smile and offers his hand to Flint.
Flint looks at the hand, and then back to Brett’s face. The silence stretches and neither one of them seems inclined to break it. Brett looks distinctly uncomfortable. Flint just looks… I don’t know. Watchful. He’s just staring at Brett, as though he’s assessing a threat.
Brett slowly lowers his hand, his face turning an ugly shade of red. He’s embarrassed, and I’m secretly delighted. There is no way this boy is going to call Flint out in the middle of the store and risk making his discomfort worse.
“Hey man! Nice to meet you. I was just…”
“You were just checking out everythingbutthe books. Is there something I can help you find?” Flint sounds pleasant, but even I can hear the steel in his voice.
Brett doesn’t appear to want to back down easily. “I was just telling Casie about our next date, but I don’t really see how this is any business of yours.” He’s trying really hard to pull off that intimidating man look but he’s only managing to look constipated.
I try not to jump like a bunny when Flint leans in and nuzzles his face against my neck. “Well, since we’re living together…” he lets his sentence fade off.
I feel a long, liquid pull in my belly as his breath tickles my ear and the bit of scruff on his cheeks sends a line of fire down my spine. Trying to keep myself from moaning aloud, I instead focus on how grateful I am for the rescue with Brett. Maybe he’ll finally take a hint since saying “no” in every reasonably polite way has not done any good.
The color in Brett’s face somehow turns darker, uglier.
“Excuse me?” he manages, through gritted teeth. I can actually see his jaw working as it clenches.
Flint straightens without letting me go and gives Brett a sharp smile. I swear his eyes are glowing in the sunlight streaming in the windows.
“Oh, you didn’t know? We’ve been living together for weeks now. I moved in the day we met.”
I can see that Brett is getting more pissed by the minute, but I know his type well enough to know that he won’t risk anything here. His type is the kind to try to buy their way out of trouble and into whatever they think they deserve. Their revenge for what they see as slights are usually petty and mean.
“Pleasure to meet you,” he growls at Flint. Turning hisblazing eyes to mine, he mutters, “I’ll… we’ll discuss this later, Cas.” He turns on his heel and stalks off, only to pull up short when Betsy steps in his way.
“You have good bones. That’s not a metaphor,” she smiles brightly. “If someone murdered you, I could use your femur in three different wards.” She giggles like a young girl and Brett goes pale. He maneuvers around her, making his way to the door with haste. I know he wishes he could slam the door of the shop on his way out, but the door doesn’t work like that. It closes slowly behind him, effectively ruining his grand exit. The cheery tinkle of the bell doesn’t exactly help.
I let my breath out in a rush. For fucks sake. I focus on my breathing, unbelievably relieved that Brett is gone.
Once I’ve settled my heart rate and my blood pressure, I realize that I’m still pressed up against a wall of muscle and venom. I risk a glance up and back, which is enough to tell me that Flint is super unhappy.
“Are you okay?” he grits out.
Like any other self respecting woman, I very much want to say “I’m fine, thanks”, and then go on about my day like nothing ever happened. Instead, I make myself pause and examine not only how I’m feeling, but also what I need to say to pull Flint back from the weird killing edge I can feel him standing on. He’s practically vibrating with the need to hit something. I can almost feel his desire for blood shed.
I don’t know why it's so hot.
I swallow, thickly. “I’m fine. Brett is just… a fuck puddle.”
I both hear and feel Flint snort, relieving some of the tension.
“No, really. I’m almost 100% sure that he watches himself in the mirror when he jacks off.” I add.
Flint gives in, resting his forehead against my hair as he laughs.
