Shoving six massive paint tins into her cart, she glances back at me before scurrying to the end of the aisle and disappearing once again.
Fuck, this isn’t good. I’ve screwed up my chances. How the hell am I supposed to dig myself out of this one?
Unable to help myself, I walk back up the aisle and loop around until I find her in the next one. She’s staring up at the selection of paint brushes and rollers, and I grin as she grabs about fifty of all different sizes and shapes.
A fire rages inside me, and I give in to temptation. She’s the flame, and fuck it, I’m the damn moth. I need to know her. I need to know what makes her tick. I need to hear the sound of her voice, but more importantly, I need to know if she’s going to scream or moan when I take her on the cashier’s table.
Fuck me.
Her body tenses once again, and I watch as she slowly looks over me as I walk down the aisle. Her soft arm reaches out before her fingers curl around the biggest fucking paint brush the store has to offer. I very quickly realize that she’s prepared to use it as a weapon, and I slow my movements, putting my hands up to show that I mean no harm.
I get closer and watch as she really takes me in, takes in my size, my face, my body. Looking mesmerized, she bites down on her bottom lip. “Fuck me,” she breathes before realizing what the fuck she just said. Her head whips back to the brushes, and her eyes go wide as a soft blush creeps over her cheeks.
I can’t help but grin. It seems that I affect her just as much as she’s been affecting me.
I step up beside her, and that sleek curve of her spine straightens. Not wanting to startle her, I clear my throat, which has her whipping her head around and finally setting those baby blues on me. For a moment, I'm rendered speechless with the depths of her beauty.
She clutches onto the paint brush, her eyes quickly narrowing on me. “Why are you following me?” she demands, her voice thick with fear. But her eyes betray her as she takes me in like a lioness about to pounce on her king, and it gets me worked up in a way I wasn’t expecting. “I saw you watching me out in the lot and now in here? What’s your deal?”
“No, no, no, Angel,” I say, keeping my hands up so she can see that I’m not about to lunge out and hurt her. “You’ve got the wrong impression. I wasn’t following you, I … fuck. I guess I kinda was, but I couldn’t leave without getting your number.”
I stare down into those eyes, which seem to have completely captured me, and just as I’m starting to get a read on this angel, just when I see something there, a wall slams down, locking me out.
What the fuck was that?
“You’re delusional if you think I’m about to give you my number. You’re a freaking stalker.”
A grin pulls at my lips, absolutely loving her fiery attitude. She’s sharp and quick, and for some reason, I can’t wait to hear what else she throws at me. “I swear, I’m not a stalker. Just a guy who couldn’t resist coming and talking to you.”
She narrows her eyes on me for a brief moment, as if deciding if she’s going to give me the benefit of the doubt. But the sexy lioness from two seconds ago is gone, replaced by a tortured soul.
This woman before me isn’t who I thought she was. This woman knows what it takes to protect herself, and that wall she just slammed up tells me she's been hurt before. By what, though? And who the fuck was stupid enough to hurt her?
Seeing my shot disappearing before my eyes, I dive straight in. What have I got to lose? She’s either going to give me the time of day or tell me to fuck off.
I lean into her. I know somewhere within that beautiful head of hers, she’s just as affected by my presence as I am by hers. "You look a little lost,” I say, indicating to the vast array of paint brushes in her cart. “What can I help you with?"
She blanches, her face blushing a stunning shade of red. Is it embarrassment or does this angel like what she sees? I don’t know about her, but I’d like to see just how far that blush creeps down that beautiful body of hers.
Shit. Reign it in. You’re going to fuck it up even more.
Her eyes fall from mine, and it’s like an emptiness pulling at me. It takes everything I have to stop myself from clicking my fingers in her face and forcing those blue eyes back to mine.