Page 10 of Let it Crackle
I glance at the bag, still not sure I trust the gesture. “How do you know what’s my favorite? You barely know me. What is it?” I ask, eyeing the bag suspiciously.
He shrugs, but there’s something in the way he leans forward slightly, elbows on the desk like he’s settling in for something more. “I know enough. I saw your box of tea under the front desk. And I may or may not have heard you mutter something about cinnamon oat cookies the other day, when that old lady returned that recipe book.”
My face warms. “That was not a mutter. That was a private craving whispered into the void.”
He grins. “Well, I guess the void delivered.”
I narrow my eyes at him, unsure of how to navigate this version of Maddox Cole—the one who brings cookies and soft smiles instead of jabs and insults. “Why are you really here?”
He pretends to be offended. “What, a guy can’t drop by with some tea and cookies for his favorite librarian? Plus I did say I would be back.”
I lift a brow. “Favorite? Bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”
He doesn’t flinch. “Not even a little.”
His eyes drop to the counter, then back to mine. There’s a moment of hesitation, like he’s weighing something heavier than cookies.
“I’ve been thinking all day about that thing you wrote,” he says finally, quiet now. “The story.”
My throat tightens. Maybe the teasing is still coming.
He leans in, close enough for me to catch a faint whiff of smoke and pine soap. “Do they end up together?” he asks.
I freeze. “Who ends up together?”
“Those characters in your story?” His voice drops, soft but edged with something rougher. “Do they make it? Or does it end with heartbreak?”
I haven’t figured out the ending yet,” I say, barely above a whisper. “It’s a romance. So no heartbreak. But they still have a lot to work through. Even though… they, um. Do it.”
My cheeks burn. Maddox’s brow arches like he knows exactly what scene I’m talking about.
“Can I see the rest?” he asks, voice thick. Low. Like gravel dragged over velvet.
I should say no. Iwantto say no. But somehow, I nod instead.
He moves around the counter and sits beside me, close enough that I feel the heat coming off his skin in waves. I open the document, heart pounding, and scroll down to where I left off.
“Read it to me.” I’m about to shake my head but somehow I can’t.
And then—I start reading.
My voice shakes at first. But his gaze never leaves me. When I hit the part where the firefighter slams into her from behind, a soft curse escapes his lips.
“You’re mine,” I read aloud, trying to keep my voice steady. “Say it, sweetheart.”
He exhales sharply through his nose.
I keep going. “He slams into her—hard, rough—while his hand works her clit with practiced, devastating precision…”
I don’t finish the sentence.
Because Maddox takes my laptop, shuts it slowly, and sets it down like it’s the most fragile thing in the world.
Then he leans in.
“Is that what you want, Maya?” he murmurs, voice thick and dangerous. “Me. Taking you like that?”
I swallow hard. I can’t answer. Idon’tanswer. Because everything inside me is screamingyes. But I know my face will betray me if I say no. It has its own subtitles at this stage.
