Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 120165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
So innocent. I was...drawn to her. I didn’t understand it, but just the memory of her had my cock swelling in my pants. She was so...good. The mirror image of me. She’d genuinely wanted to help me find the right book. And I could tell she was a hard worker: the floors of the bookstore were spotless, despite all the customers tracking in slush from the snow outside.
A good-hearted, honest woman. It had been a long time since I’d met one of those. It made me want to shove those tight blue jeans down around her ankles along with her panties, baring those milky-white thighs and the soft pink lips of her pussy. Press her up against the counter and bury my cock in her, just sink balls deep into that innocence and fuck the good right out of her, in front of all her customers. Until she was sopping and slick around me, until she was clutching me, eyes screwed shut, screaming my name.
The part that made me hardest was knowing she wanted it just as much as I did. I’d seen it in the way she flushed, in the way her breathing quickened when our eyes locked. There was a part of her that needed my darkness as much as I needed her light.
I reached the street and scowled left and right, waiting for a gap in the traffic.
There was something else. The way she’d gotten so damn happy when she talked about that book. She’d gone off into her own little world, grinning and bright-eyed and…in Russia, we would say Voskhititel'nyy. Adorable.
Adorable has never been my type. And yet, when she talked about that book, about fae kings and girls with bows...I could have listened to her for hours.
I wondered what it must be like, to believe in happy endings.
A gap opened up in the traffic and I stalked across the street to where Valentin was waiting. “That was a lot longer than two minutes,” he said mildly as I climbed into the car.
I knocked the snow off my shoes, then pulled the door closed. “There was a line.”
Valentin turned slowly around to stare at me from the driver’s seat. “You waited in line?”
I felt my lips tighten. Valentin notices every little thing. It’s what makes him such an effective killer but right now, it was infuriating. It made me ask uncomfortable questions: why had I waited in line? That wasn’t something I’d normally do. But the store had felt like her little world, and I’d been a guest there.
I glowered at Valentin. With anyone else, that would have done the trick. But Valentin just raised a questioning eyebrow. He and my other brothers are the only ones who’ll stand up to me.
Wait...that’s not quite true. The woman in the bookstore...even after all my scowling, even after she realized who I was, she’d called after me. She’d stood up to me, even though it made her legs shake.
Innocent. Adorable. And brave.
“Drive the car,” I ordered. “We’re late to meet the mayor.”
Valentin reluctantly turned around and started the engine. I glanced out of the window at the orange glow of the bookstore across the street. Miss Hanford. Even her name was honest and upstanding…
Then I turned to face front and rammed those thoughts down deep. They were childish weaknesses, soft pink ribbons that I crushed between efficient, icy cogs.
There was no room for a woman in my life. Closeness makes you vulnerable. And there was no place for warm or adorable in my world. Those things would get snuffed out in a heartbeat.
She was the good-hearted, sweet princess, safe in her castle. And me? I was no prince. I was the monster who eats people like her.
But as the car surged away, I watched the store in the rear-view mirror until it faded into the darkness.
3
BRONWYN
I closed the store at eight but, by the time I’d cleaned up, re-ordered stock and locked up, it was closer to nine. After being on my feet all day, my joints were swollen tight and every step felt like bone grinding on bone. What I really wanted was to soak in a long, hot bath, with some candles and maybe some caramel crunch chocolate. But she needed me.
So I bundled up in a coat, scarf and gloves and set out into the blizzard.
The subway train was packed so I had to hang from a strap, which meant that each jolt and sway of the carriage whip-cracked my body, pulling my joints in all sorts of interesting ways. There was a priority seat, but it was occupied by a big guy in a suit who reeked of alcohol, and I wasn’t going to get into a fight with him. Even if he gave up the seat willingly, I’d have to deal with everyone else in the carriage. Why do you need the seat anyway? Look at you, there’s nothing wrong with you!