Fifty shades of Kim

Chapter seven

"All part of your feed-the-world plan?" I tease. "Something like that," he acknowledges, and his lips quirked up in a half smile.

He gazes at the selection of cable ties we stock in the store. What on earth is he going to do with those? I cannot picture him as a do-it-yourselfer at all. His fingers trail across the various packages displayed, and for some inexplicable reason, I have to look away. He bends and selects a packet.

"These will do," he says with his oh-so-secret smile. "Is there anything else?"

"I'd like some masking tape." Masking tape?

"Are you redecorating?" The words are out before I can stop them. Surely he hires laborers or his staff to help him decorate?

"No, not redecorating," he says quickly, then smirks, and I have the uncanny feeling that he's laughing at me.

Am I that funny? Funny looking?

"This way," I murmur, embarrassed. "Masking tape is in the decorating aisle." I glance behind me as he follows.

"Have you worked here long?" His voice is low, and he's gazing at me, concentrating hard. I blush brightly. Why the hell does he have this effect on me? I feel like I'm fourteen years old, as always out of place. eyes front, Seokjin!

"Four years," I muller as we reach our goal. To distract myself, I reach down and select the two widths of masking tape that we stock. "I'll take that one," Kim says softly, pointing to the wider tape, which I pass to him. Our fingers brush very briefly, and the current is there again, zapping through me like I've touched an exposed wire. I gasp involuntarily as I feel it down to somewhere dark and unexplored, deep in my belly. Desperately. I scrabble around for my equilibrium

"Anything else?" My voice is husky and breathy. His eyes widen slightly. "Some rope, I think." His voice mirrors mine, husky.

"This way." I duck my head down to hide my recurring blush and move toward the aisle,

"What sort were you after? We have synthetic and natural filament rope... Twine cable cord." I half at his expression, his eyes darkening, as if it was even possible. Holy cow.

"I'll take five yards of the natural filament rope, please."

Quickly, with trembling fingers, I measure out five yards against the fixed ruler, aware that his hot dark gaze is on me. I dare not look at him, Jeez, could I feel any more self-conscious? Taking my knife from the back pocket of my jeans, I cut it then coll it neatly before tying it in a slipknot. By some miracle, I managed not to remove a finger with my knife.

"Are you interested in any kind of sports?" he asks, sculptured, sensual lips curled in amusement Don't look at his mouth!

"Organized sports activities aren't my thing, Mr. Kim." He arches a brow.

"What is your thing, Seokjin?" he asks, his voice soft, and his secret smile is back. I gaze at him, unable to express myself. I'm on shifting tectonic plates. Try to be cool, Jin, my tortured subconscious begs on my bent knee.

"Books," I whisper, but inside, my subconscious is screaming You! You are my thing! I slap it down instantly, mortified that my psyche is having ideas way out of its league.

"What kind of books?" He cocks his head to one side. Why is he so interested?

"Oh, you know. The usual. The classics, British literature, mainly."

He rubs his chin with his long index finger and thumb as he contemplates my answer. Or perhaps he's just very bored and Trying to hide it. "Anything else you need?" I have to get off this subject-