Page 115 of To Have and to Stalk
Her eyes popped, then narrowed. “So I can get a thousand books?” she asked, incredulous.
I shrugged. “Sure. Just need to get another car to carry them all.”
She rolled her lips between her teeth. I was beginning to realize Shay was more suspicious of nice things than, say, strangers in graveyards.
My hand slid around her hip and I leaned forward, lips at her ear. “Be a good girl for me, Shay, and let me buy you books.”
Her body softened and sagged into mine. I pulled back just enough to see her eyes.
That fucking flush was back on her cheeks.
Compliance kink,I remembered.
She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, a teasing smile playing at the corners. “Maybe just a couple hundred.”
Her voice was soft, and with my forehead shadowing hers, the world disappeared into just us.
“That will definitely be easier on my back,” I said, and stepped away. “Lead the way.”
She led me up the escalator to the second floor. Which was, according to her, where they kept the best books—all the romance and fiction.
Shay picked up a brightly colored pink book from a table filled with books. She flipped to the back, reading the blurb. As her eyes scanned the page, her features grew more and more interested. Her brows even lifted.
Yet despite that, she put the book down.
“Do you want it?”
“Yeah, but I don’tneedit?—”
I grabbed it off the table.
We played that game for a few more books before Shay gave in and started putting anything that interested her in my hands. She placed a Mafia book on the ever-growing stack and, without thought, I took it off, slamming it to the table.
“In real life, these men are overweight, balding, with tiny cocks and stains on their shirt.”
She blinked at my outburst. “Wait, what?”
“Pick any other genre,” I grunted. “Mafia is trash.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue, continuing down the row. I stayed put, lingering on the way her skirt hugged her perfect fucking ass. Her exposed shoulder, her soft, bare thighs, or the way she revealed her lower back anytime she stretched to get a book.
Basically, I was focusing on anything other than the ever-blaring fact thatMafiawas just a genre to Shay.
“Oh my god!” Shay grabbed something with foil. “I’ve been waiting years for this. This book started a whole new subgenre—” She broke off. “I’m sorry. That’s not interesting.”
“No,” I said. “Don’t stop.”
She gave me a suspicious look but kept talking. About her favorite novels. About how she had been looking forward to the sequel of one book because it was supposed to be why choose and was disappointed to find out it wasn’t. About an adaptation she’d seen that was better than the book—blasphemous,she’d said.
And I was enthralled.
Not interesting? She could read me her fucking grocery list and I’d be enthralled. Shay got so animated when she spoke. It was beyond bubbly, it was like her soul was shining. And knowing what she’d been through, managing to keep thatsparkle was all the more impressive. She’d gone through the dark of hell and come out smiling.
Fuck.
I ground my jaw.
I wanted to fucking pummel her ex to the ground for even slightly dimming that.
