Page 25 of For Fillies and Monsters

I stand there, mouth hanging embarrassingly open, and stare at the man with the porn-like voice.Fuck, he is hot.

The man, middle-aged—maybe thirty—leans casually against the door frame of the small shop, his arms folded across his broad chest. He’s not much taller than me, a few inches maybe, but I feel small and weak next to him all the same. He exudes dominance, power, and something darker—angrier. His tanned face is covered in a thick layer of black scruff, bordering an angular jaw and dusting over his pale, full lips. His eyes, a deep shade of brown with streaks of black, rest under dark eyebrows drawn into a deep-v, and sparkle with irritation. Black curly hair clings to the nape of his neck and forehead, a boyish feature on an otherwise full-man facade.

Staring at him, I get the overwhelming sense of familiarity, like déjà vu.

Regardless of his put-on casual stance, leaning in the entryway, he looks anything but casual. His muscles, lithe but firm, bunch and ripple beneath the dark fabric of his dirty button-up and along the contours of his tanned arms. His trim hips, cocked to support his‘don’t give a shit lean’, are covered in ripped jeans, and lead toward a very rounded ass that I can’t keep from staring at in the glass door behind him. He’s definitelytryingto come off as if he doesn’t give two fucks, but is instead delivering more‘caged animal ready to pounce’.

Everything about him is dark and dangerous. He looks like trouble, and Lord knows how I am about trouble. My body is a traitor—a stupid, horny bitch—and I bow to its need.Every. Single. Time.I’m a weak woman, a desperate, weak woman.

Between his dangerously good looks and that nagging string of familiarity tugging at the back of my brain, all words evade me.Where do I know him from?Surely I would remember him. Lord, how could I possibly forget him? I blink rapidly, trying to dispel the thick fog from my brain.

“You wanting to catch some flies with that trap?” he snaps, his head bobbing toward my still unhinged jaw. I snap it closed, my teeth making an audible clanking noise. Heat crawls up my neck, and I know without question I’m blushing embarrassingly pink. There’s no point in arguing with him, he already knows. But does he have to be such a dick about it? And fuck, why does him being a dick make meeven hornier?

I need to be checked into a mental hospital.

I straighten my back, trying to eye him from a professional viewpoint. He looks fucking yummy, which could be both a perk and a danger when working with someone. Not that I have much experience—I’ve never worked with someone this hot. Not to mention, I’ve never had anyone work forme, period. And regardless of how devastatingly good-looking he is, he’s also been really pissy and unnecessarily rude just in the two minutes I’ve known him. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life, even if it makes me a little sad.

No, I can appreciate him from afar, but no way can I hire him.

“Not really.” My words come out more breathless than I intend them to and I turn around, ready to walk away. I note his dark brow cocking upward, the scowl remaining firmlyin place across his lips. The fucking lips that I can’t help but picture between my already wet thighs, spreading me open and devouring me, the way a caged animal would its prey.

“Not really, like you aren’t hiring? Or not really trying to catch flies?”

My cheeks flame hotter.Is this guy fucking serious?I stuff my free hand into my pocket and shake the vaccine in his face with the other.

“Gotta check out now. Super nice meeting you, though.” My previous anger comes flaming back to life, and I lean into it. I fucking hate these townspeople and their constant judgement.

And I really hate the way my body trembles with the need to instantly bow to this stranger’s domineering voice.

The mystery man pushes off the door frame and prowls toward me. He looks even more like an animal stalking its prey than before, and I move faster toward the counter, instincts blaring. He might make me nervous but I am no lamb, not really. Life has thrown me too many shit hands. I’m not about to be afraid of this man, no matter how much he makes my stomach flip.

“I need the work.” His words come out hushed, and I can hear him grinding his teeth. He doesn’t come across as the kind of man who asks for anything—just takes what he wants.Lucky me.

I don’t turn around to face him, “And I need a million dollars.”

He sighs, the action sending a small wave of warm air to blow down my neck.When did he get so fucking close?“Do I need to beg?” The words are so quiet, I can’t even be certain they’re real.

“No.” I can’t manage any more words, and if I turn around and look at him, he will surely see the lie plainly on my face. I want him to beg—God, I want to see this man beg.

“You’re a brat.”

I blink rapidly at that. Again, the rational part of my brain is telling me to get away from this stranger, who has been nothing but a douchebag. But my body refuses—I’m melted to the floor where I stand. “And you’re a stranger,” I manage to hiss, and brave a small peek over my shoulder, only to instantly regret it.

He’s standing so close that I could lean back and my ass would surely brush his legs.Or his cock.I shiver. “Not to mention, you haven’t given a single example of why I should hire you.” He remains quiet, and I’m filled with a small balloon of confidence, urging me to continue. “You’ve been a dick, harassing me. Why would I hire you?”

I feel better as the words leave my lips. But I still don’t trust myself to turn around and face the full weight of his stare.

He grumbles something unintelligible, and then says, “I’m good at the work. I’m not afraid to get dirty or do the shit jobs.” My toes curl unbidden in my boots. The way he says “dirty” makes me picture him doing said work, only naked and sweating. I can’t afford such thoughts.

“I can’t pay you.” There, that should effectively end this tortuous conversation.And my dignity, but who the fuck cares at this point?

He steps around me, standing in front of me now, and shrugs; his dark hair is wispy in the light, looking like a black halo around his head. “Pay me at the end of the year. I would like a permanent job. And a place to stay, preferably. Do you have anyone living with you?”

I know I shouldn’t answer that question. There are a lot of creeps in the world, and I seem to be attracting them by the dozen. Regardless, he doesn’t look like a creep, and I like flirting with danger.

Ishake my head.

“Cool, I will start tomorrow.” He pushes past me, stealing toward the door.That’s it?

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