Recollections

Smut VII

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Hand in hand we walk down the sidewalk of the city. It's mostly silence between us, save for the sound of the city, cars driving by and honks and sirens echoing. We round the corner, his hand squeezing mine when he leans down to talk softly in my ear, so he doesn't have to overpower everything around us.

"Are you okay to walk more, or should we go home?"

I purse my lips. He's right on time, my feet are killing me. But I don't want to this to end, finally being able to spend time with him after a rough few weeks for the both of us. I also really wanted to make it to the bookstore.

"I'm okay," I lie. I glance around us and back to him. The smallest twitch of his brow tells me he sees right through me, but he nods anyway and continues to walk. He notably walks slower, too. "We can walk normally."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because your feet hurt."

"But-"

"My girl, you may be able to see right through me, but that doesn't mean I can't do the same. I've studied you more than God himself." he explains, not looking at me as he focuses on dodging people as they walk by. I huff a sigh and hear him chuckle. "The bookstore is this way, as well. I know you."

I pout, huffing again. He glances at me and shakes his head, leaning to kiss the top of my head. I giggle quietly and walk with him until the bookstore sign, bright colors of red and blue, catch my eye. I giggle and let go of his hand, practically skipping all the way to the store's wide-open doors.

I shuffle into the store and gaze around, my heart melting at the sight of books upon books. Standing by the entrance, I hear my boy's voice and the shuffling of his feet against the floor.

"What did we say about leaving like that?" He questions with a quiet tone. I swallow, processing his tone. Suddenly I grin.

"Leaving? I didn't leave you."

"Oh, you didn't?" He questions rhetorically.

"Mmnm" I hum back, shaking my head. "I let go of your hand and ran to the store. I did not leave you."

"Okay, Miss Technical," He mutters. He lifts his hand and settles it on my shoulder, snaking it up close to my neck. His grip tightens and pulls me against him, only enough for me to know what he's doing. "Two can play at that game, sweetheart. Wanna try me?"

I giggle, biting my lip while my mind tries to settle the nerves lighting a fire inside me. The heat is most definitely not rising.

"Sure, you won't do much in public."

"Oh, so she knows me so well," He retorts. His hand releases from my neck, his other hand grabbing mine that hangs by my hip. "Let's shop, shall we?"

My breath leaves my lungs, his question rhetorical and challenging. I can tell my only option is playing his game now, my mouth too stupid to know when to shut up.

"Come," he invites me, pulling me to a section of the store. "These books look like fun."

I am pulled off to multiple sections of the store, but my mind is solely focused on waiting for him to play the game. But he doesn't. For most of the trip around the store at least. Eventually he pulls me to a section labeled "YA," my personal favorite part of any bookstore. One of the books I've been waiting to come across is sat on the bottom shelf of a whole span of books. I squeal and pull away from him, leaning to get the book. I turn around and show him the book.

"This is the one, my love! This is the one I showed you a few weeks ago."

He smiles lightly, nodding at my words, though his eyes span up and down the length of me. All excitement over the book drains as a whole new excitement begins. I pull the book to my chest, shrinking into the smallest version of me I can.

"My love?"

"Hm?" He hums, his eyes glancing all over me, never staying in one place long. He steps small steps, his hand held behind his back. It's menacing.

"What are you doing?" I ask him, taking one small step back. His pupils noticeably dilate. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" He questions, his response quick and brisk. He gets up to me, towering over my stature.

"Like that," I answer simply. His eyes don't leave mine. I look away, looking down and to the side, avoiding eye contact. His hand suddenly grabs hold of my jaw, forcing me to look straight at him. I swallow hard.

"I don't know what you're talking about sweetheart," he claims. His smirk tells me differently. His hand slides down the smallest bit to hold the base of my neck, his head leaning down to kiss my neck. I hold back everything my body wants to do, and instead I step back and pull away from him the best I can, his grip not letting me walk back very far.

"We're in public."

"You wanted to play the game," He growls quietly.

He steps closer to me, using his grip to push back until I am pushed against the wall. I look behind him, thankfully catching no glimpse of any living soul beyond the two of us. Ironic that he waited until we were in the back of the store.

He leans down to kiss my neck again, his free hand reached down to rub over my waist. Slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, his hand moves down until his fingers curl into my leg, his thumb rubbing against the jean fabric in a soothing up, down, up, down. I try my best to keep myself collected, my heart racing and my lungs failing to be sufficient.

His lips pull away from my neck and instead move up to my jaw, until soon his lips press on mine. I hum, kissing him back as though I completely forget where I am. . .because I do. His hand rubs back up my leg, his hand curling inward to hold the inside of my thigh. I feel myself shake, my body wanting to fall just to see him above me, so I pull back. We're in public, what the hell is he doing?

"My love, we're in a bookstore. Stop playing." I pry his hand off of my leg, despite wanting to leave it there and let him do as he pleases. I pull his other hand off my neck. When I catch his gaze, his eyes brighten as he reaches around me to grab the book I didn't even realize I'd dropped to the table beside us.

"I wasn't playing with you. I was simply touching what was mine."

With this, he takes the book and turns his back from me, rounding to the left of the shelves I got the book off of. I watch him walk all the way to the front, paying for the book and talking to the worker like he didn't just make me weak beneath him.

His game is dangerous for me. . .

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