Page 43 of Buckle Up, Buttercup

She wriggles in my lap. “Well, you could help me with the decorations tomorrow, if you want. Lemon, Furyon and Oz are planning to as well, but I’d be open to that if you want.”

“I’ll get the Jays too,” I offer.

She snorts. “Jasper sucks at decorating.”

“He’ll learn,” I promise. “This is non-negotiable. You cannot take on all of this stuff by yourself. We’ll learn to do it your way, so you don’t feel like you have to redo it for it to be right, but I absolutely insist on helping you.”

Her answering smile is soft. Silence goes long again, and it could be awkward, but it’s not. Not until she hops off my lap and runs both hands through her mussed hair.

“Get some clothes back on Mister Alkazar,” she commands. “You’re still my dirty little secret.”

Fuck me. That sounds good for now. But in the long run, I won’t be able to stay like that. Because I want the entire world to know Bluebell Tucker is mine. One day? One day I’ll shout that news from the damn rooftops.

Bluebell

Hadrian is quiet as I gather up his new clothing and bag it. Now that the game’s done it’ll be easier for him to haul the bags home. Plus, I can help. He stands there smirking while I ring it up, debating about whether it’s weird or not to charge my…whatever he is…for a service. When I open my mouth to debate that with him, he shakes his head.

“Don’t even think about not charging me, Miss Tucker. You provided a service I needed, and I want to see you be successful.”

The Bodice shimmies around us, but this sound is happy as she clatters the wall displays. Buckles jangle together on their hooks, and the shoe boxes shimmy loudly. The playful sounds bring a smile to my face.

“You did a great job,” I compliment the building, hoping that what Hadrian said earlier will sink through to her. I really thought we might be done for when she ruined my organizing efforts. I’ve got to figure out how she wants to be worked with because what I’m doing isn’t panning out.

She seems to like Hadrian, though, so maybe we can finagle that to my benefit. It’s worth a try, if he’s willing to help.

He pays cash and leaves a stupid tip that I try to refuse. When I put up too much of a fuss, the building lets out a series of warning creaks. She doesn’t like me saying no to a customer.

Hadrian chuckles and leans onto both beefy forearms, winking at me. “Seems like the Bodice and I are on the same page, Bluebell. Take the money and don’t fight me about it. Your success and your partnership with her are important to me because you’re important to me, alright?”

I stuff the money in the cash register, determined to return it to him later. Maybe I’ll shove it under his apartment door or stick it in a bag when he’s not looking.

He might be reading my mind, though, because he grabs the large bags and slots it under his arm, then slides his hands into his pockets. Behind his back, his sharp wing tips hover, reminding me how very predatory he could be if he wanted to.

A shiver skirts down my spine, pulling goosebumps to my skin.

Hadrian’s nostrils flare, his pupils darkening as a furrow appears between his brows. He’s utterly still, utterly focused, staring at me like he might rip the counter from its supports and shove it aside to get to me.

“Hadrian,” I whisper. “What are you doing?”

His tail begins to lash side to side as he takes a step forward, then two, until his body hits the counter. “Bluebell,” he growls out. “You want me. I smell it.”

Oh gods. Anybody could come in at any time, and Jasper already called looking for him.

“We can’t do this right here, right now,” I whisper-hiss. “My brother will⁠—”

“You want something only I can give you,” he continues. “Don’t you?”

I run both hands through my hair, glancing at the front window. I can’t see any of my brothers yet, but it’s just a matter of time. And something about the idea of being caught has me throbbing with a surprising anticipation.

“I’m gonna put you on this countertop and take care of that soaked pussy, Bluebell.” He leans over and grips my throat carefully, pulling me to touch the opposite side of the counter as he rubs his giant thumb pad over my lower lip. His eyes drift to my mouth, and he smirks. “I want that mouth open while you scream, pretty girl. My name. My nickname. Any of those works for me. Hop on up here.” He pats the countertop.

“No.” I cross my arms. “We’ve got to go, Hadrian.”

His dark brows lift. “You’re denying me? Me? After you’ve wanted this for so long?”

This kind of play is right up my alley. I always fantasized about Hadrian being secretly dominant. But the fact that he is and getting more dominant by the minute is exactly what I’m into. This male is trouble.

The shop bell dings, and I gasp, wheeling around to the front door. Hadrian never looks away from me, his gaze as tangible as his fingers on my mouth just a moment ago.