Page 36 of Kandie Shoppe

My body responds like it’s on fire. My body shivers. Marcus’ cool gaze sweeps between us. Understanding settles between the men.

“Thank you so much for your help,” I say sweetly to Marcus, doing my best not to look at the cool, raking assessment in Ulysses’ stare.

“Anytime, doll.” The sexy drawl in his voice is an enticement I know better than to respond to.

“On the job, even when it’s not your concern, Sheriff?” I’m near way to the top when Marcus’ droll question reaches me from below.

There is a hard pulse of a pause then. “Everything about her is my concern, Sommerland.”

Strangling the bottle’s neck, I slink inside my loft shutting the door firmly behind me.

Why didn’t I say anything?

Why didn’t I contradict him?

He told Marcus I was his concern. Why is he coming down this alleyway, anyway?

Full from catfish, collard greens, and baked mac and cheese, I trudge across to the kitchen feeling like I could throw the entire feast up. Feelings I haven’t allowed myself to even think about start bubbling up like good sourdough starter.

Talk about acting out of order, this man, I swear. Never for a moment did I think he meant the whole ‘he’s the only oneI’m going to be with thing’. Especially when he wasn’t giving me that same promise. I may be his concern, but I guess he doesn’t think he’s mine. Well, he’s got another thing coming if he thinks he’s going to keep me on lockdown and still be the widow and divorcee comforter for the county.

Putting my wine away, I head straight to the shower. It’s a good thing I don’t work at one of the plants because I would be trying to find a ride to work now that my tire is ruined and it’s a special order. Luckily, all I have to do is go down one flight of stairs, make a left, then I’m there.

Steam quickly fills the room. Shucking my clothes off, I pull on a shower cap as I step under the hot spray of the water. Squeezing the liquid emulsion of the vanilla-rose my cousin Clover formulates especially for me. I use it to wash my body. I get my unscented face wash she also makes to cleanse my face before washing again.

Of its own volition, my mind skates back to strong arms and piercing ice-blue eyes, a chiseled jaw, a webbed scar edged in silver marring his otherwise perfectly brutal face.

“Everything about her is my concern—” flits through my mind as my fingers caress my already distended nipples. Head falling back, “Motherfucker,” I moan, squeezing the round flesh of my titties. I start squeezing my nipples, applying gentle pressure, gradually getting meaner like he did the other night until the delicious sting has my essence slipping through my pussy lips, making me slick and ready.

“I’m the only one you’re fucking from now on,” drifts on the perimeter of my mind as my fingers find my clit. Circling the flesh again and again, I tease myself, trying to mimic the same way he did. “Ulysses,” I groan, driving myself mad, finally giving into the pull of pleasure. Closing my eyes I see his face, his eyes, picturing him just as he came driving his heavy dick into me with a ruthlessness that bordered on hatred, his face breaking inmy memory drives me over the edge. I call his name again on a keening cry. My orgasm takes me to my haunches. If I didn’t have my shower cap on, my hair would be ruined. Not wanting to test my luck, I rise, careful of my sensitive flesh.

Toweling off feels like its own special brand of torture. My nipples are still hard poking out, the rest of my skin so hypersensitive. Lotioning my body feels like foreplay as I glide my hands over my calves. Way too soft. I want the feel of his heavy, callused hands. The sharpness of his sharp nails grazing against me, the scruff of his five o’clock shadow scraping my thighs.

By the time I’m finished, my body is humming. I need my wine, my vibrator, and a K-Drama, not necessarily in that order.

Like a record scratching my plans for the evening, I screech to a halt when I walk into the main area of my loft and see Ulysses Shelby lounging in my reading nook, reading my special edition copy ofTheCruelPrince.

“I thought I was going to have to come in there and take care of you,” he growls, not looking up from his book.

The breath catches in my throat — for a moment. “W-what are you doing here?”

“What the fuck is going on with you and Sommerland? And why is your door unlocked?” Rising like an avenging god from the depths of hell, he spears me with a look that would shred a lesser man.

“Oh, scared of a little competition? No one is coming up these stairs to bother me — that is until now.” Smirking, I drop the towel from my body, going over to get one of my bodysuits to pull on to torment him while still putting a healthy barrier between us. Already feeling weak for him and his knowing what I was doing rather loudly in the shower has me feeling more vulnerable than I like right now.

I swear I feel a whoosh right before I’m pressed against the wall beside my antique and very shaky dresser. My tiny selection of parfum rattles beside me. The picture of my family — my one and only keepsake falls on its face. I had it framed special at the Michaels in Birmingham and just thinking how I really didn’t have the money at the time and how much it meant makes me bare my teeth at him. Grabbing his neck in return, I drag him forward. Taking his mouth, I plunge my tongue into the hot delicious cavern. He groans like I’m breaking him. I bite the hell out of his lip for good measure for messing up my stuff.

Pulling back, I let a little evil smile kick up the corner of my mouth. I lick his blood from my bottom lip.

“Why do you even care? Why, suddenly, am I your business? You’re fucking every divorcee and widow countywide, Sheriff.” My tummy tightens, thinking he only came because of Angel.

“You know why.” His eyes go half-mast as he looks down at me. Rubbing the blood from his lip with his thumb, he smears it over my lips before pushing it into my mouth, making me suck it clean. Crowding close so that I can feel his hardness pressed against my tummy, he moves his hand from my mouth to catch the hair at the nape of my neck. Tugging my head back, he makes me meet his hard visage. His mouth cuts a cruel cast. “I know you kept that pussy for me.”

He tugs harder, almost as if he’s angry at the thought. “What I can’t figure out is why? Why, wildcat? I said I was never coming back. You were never going to follow me. So why haven’t you had any other lovers?”

“Oh, you’re mad I don’t fit the narrative you created to make yourself feel better about being the county’s sneaky link?” Dodging the real question, I relish my taunt. “Who says I was saving it for you? As you just saw, I’m not lacking for quality attention. Who says it’s you or ever was? I know my worth and it definitely ain’t for someone who thinks so little of me whenyou knew you were my first. You fell for it when they told the same tired lies.” I try to keep the hurt cleaving into my heart from coming out in my voice, but something tells me I’m failing miserably.

My body takes to the air, my arms fight and flail, my legs kick for a hot second before my back meets the softness of my down comforter. I bounce. Twice.

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