Page 52 of Some Like 'Em Burly
Because Axel feelsgood.He’s a soothing presence, solid as a rock, and he’s been helping me sell candles all afternoon, chatting steadily in that rumbly voice of his. Maybe I don’t really know him, maybe I’m fooling myself that there’s some kind of connection here, but…
I don’t care.
His hand on my shoulder feels good, so I lean into his touch.
“I had to support myself,” I finish. Not such a long story after all. “And candles are what I’m good at.”
Axel grunts in agreement, giving my shoulder one final squeeze before picking up the closest candle and sniffing it deeply. He nods in appreciation, then sets it back down with a dull thud.
“Never bought a candle before, but I’d buy one of yours,” he says.
I bite my lip against a smile. “You can pick one for free. As a thank you for selling so many today.”
Axel’s smile is here and gone so fast, I nearly miss it, then my bodyguard settles back in his seat and folds his arms across his chest. The dark ink of his tattoos looks intricate, almost like the designs are shifting and changing in the low light. It’s eerie in here, but beautiful too.
Where else does Axel have ink? On his chest? His back?
Would he show me if I asked? Let me trace the designs with my fingertip?
“You look hungry,” my bodyguard says after a while, and lord, he has no idea. With his muscled bulk folded next to me in this small space, his body heat tickling my side, I’m hungry for things I’ve never wanted before in my life. I’mstarving.
For a heavy weight settling on top of my body.
The rasp of a beard against my throat.
Thick fingers sliding into my panties, grazing my clit before they press deeper—
“Jem.”
“Sorry?” I blink at the man beside me, dazed. Where the hell didthatcome from?
Axel’s dark eyes glint with amusement, like he followed my whole train of thought just then and enjoyed what he saw. “I said, do you want pizza or curry? I’m buying.”
“Pizza,” I say faintly, then my manners catch up. “Please! And thank you. Um, you don’t have to pay, though—”
“Too late.” Axel unfolds from his chair like a mythical giant rising from his throne. “Don’t move, okay? I’ll come straight back. Stay right there.”
I raise my palms in surrender, because hey, my legs wouldn’t work right now anyway. “I’m staying, I’m staying.”
He’s a whole head taller than the rest of the crowd, shouldering his way easily back into the crush. There’s something hypnotic about the way Axel moves—like a panther prowling through the jungle. Graceful and predatory.
I shiver.
Other people notice it too, moving automatically out of his way, so that the crowd parts around him like a stone in the river, and soon enough, he’s out of sight.
My heart rattles against my rib cage, and I scrub both palms along my jeans. It’s new, this jittery feeling bouncing around inside me—it’s not fear, or loneliness, or existential dread. It’s…excitement.
Does Axel feel it too?
Or am I making a fool of myself?
Oh, god. What if he’s just being friendly with me? What if he’s justnice? What if Axel has people fawning over him everyday, swept up in how freaking good it feels in the safety of his presence? What if he privately rolls his eyes about it, sick of being everyone’s bodyguard crush?
I’m so busy chewing on my thumbnail, slouched and morbid in my chair, that I don’t realize I’m no longer alone. Not until Peter clears his throat, standing a foot in front of the table.
My veins frost over inside me, but I force my face to stay blank as I look up at my ex boyfriend. My tormentor; the man who broke into my apartment last night and stole my favorite photo of my mom. The guy who’s declared himself my own personal bogeyman.
“Oh,” I say, fighting to sound bored. “It’s you.”
