Page 11

W hat. The fuck. Just happened? I lay under this six-foot-six menace, pinned to the display table in my bookstore, my entire world upside down.

Trembling still with the force of my orgasms, my hands found the expanse of his back, almost soothingly as he panted by my ear, letting my legs fall back down to the sides of his hips. My core still spasmed around him with aftershocks and he growled, it rumbling low in his throat at the feel.

“We really need to talk about you stalking me.” I muttered, dazed.

Barking out a laugh, he raised up to look down at me with those piercing green eyes. His blonde hair was tousled and falling into his eyes.

“Listen, while this started off in an unorthodox way, I never actually lied to you. I just omitted some of the information.”

My eyes narrowed at him. He wasn’t wrong, the smug asshole.

“Following me home?” I questioned, pushing him up while he pulled out and I sat up, my world still slightly spinning. I felt exposed, my only clothing not ruined was my bra, flung somewhere on the store floor.

Garrett pulled up his pants tighter, fastening them, seeming to notice.

“For the record, you’re beautiful and you have nothing to hide,” he spoke, walking over to his bag beside the signing table and pulling out a bundle of clothing. “But I refuse to let you walk home in New York City naked,” he continued, walking back and handing them to me.

“You packed me clothes?” I scowled up at him. “You have a lot of nerve, assuming this is where we’d end up.”

Quirking his eyebrow, his hand snapped out, clasping around my throat again.

A girl could get used to this. Dammit, Waverly, you’re supposed to be upset.

“Looks like we ended up right where I planned.” he growled.

“Following me home?” I asked standing and slipping into the leggings. They fit. Of course he obviously stalked me long enough to find out my clothing size. I really should be more mad about this.

“I live right across the street from you, for now.” he said, simply. Like this was inevitable and not up for discussion.

“You are literally insane.” I stated, yanking the long-sleeved shirt over my head. I swam in it and glanced down. It was obviously his. Asshole was practically peeing on me.

“Listen,” he began. “I know this is a lot. Today, tonight, the hot sex.”

I glared while he laughed again.

“But it is inevitable. You know me. You may not have known I was a man and you may have thought I was a woman, but we’re friends, and I think we just became lovers,” he smirked again.

“Or we did the friends, to lovers, to enemies,” I snapped, moving to stand toe to toe with him. Glaring up at him from my five-foot-four height, and he glowered right back at me, a towering giant.

“I’ll agree to date you, court you, woo you,” he conceded, “For society’s sake. To ease your troubled little mind. But we both know this is happening. We both know that you dream about this, want it, and wished for it. So. We do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“Date me? Woo me?” I laughed. “Now you’re being chivalrous?”

“I’ll be anything you want me to be, Waverly.” he said, his tone more serious now, leaving no room for argument. “I’ll be your lover, your fantasy, your friend, and your family. Whatever you need me to be, baby girl.”

This man was serious. I should call a therapist. Was I actually going to agree to this? Was I going to let this insanity slide?

“Three dates, to see if we fit.” I finally conceded, unnerved by my easy acceptance of something that should be a giant red flag.

“Oh, we fit.” he argued, crossing his thick, tattooed arms.

“Never know.” I shot back. “By this time next Valentine’s Day I could have a whole new boy toy.”

Something inside of him snapped as he took a few steps closer to me, causing me to back up against the display table where he’d thoroughly claimed me.

“Consider yourself off the fucking market.” He seethed, green eyes meeting mine. “For this Valentine’s Day until forever, Waverly.”

“Okay.” I squeaked.

I guess I could let it slide. Why shouldn't I live out my fantasy?

Happy Valentine's Day!