Free Knock Love Out (A Sensual New Adult Crossover Romance) by Pella Grace Page A

I used to make paper airplanes in my dad’s office. I’d fold each one differently, compiling a small fleet of aircraft. When the store was busy, I would stay up here and dart them at people, through the window overlooking the sales floor.
    The same way that sentence left Claude’s mouth just now, is the same way I was told not to do the previously described.
    “You’ll be staying late today for coming in late as well.”
    “Will I be getting overtime pay?”
    He makes a face, knowing damn well that question is a reminder of the fact that I am here of my own free will.
     
    ***
     
    “You press the department key first.”
    Mary jumps as I approach from behind, reaching around her to do it myself. The register beeps, ready for the numbers. She remains still.
    “The numbers,” I remind.
    “There’s no bar thingy.”
    “Yes,” I grab the pepper, flipping it around, “but there are numbers .”
    “Oh!” She enters the number incorrectly three times before finally getting it right.
    I do my best to keep my attention on Mary. Avoid the eyes that I know are staring at me. Lilla is too obvious. I pray Adam is too blind. A part of me wishes I’d taken a third or even fourth shower this morning. It’s been five days since I was with her.
    The intelligent part of my brain knows there is no way she still lingers on my skin—but fuck—that’s a lie if ever one was told. Maybe I don’t smell like marshmallows, vanilla and Honey-girl, but … lingering effects … ?
    Traitor eyes—the world slowing for thirty seconds as I glance at her. Cotton candy painted cheeks with matching lips. Soft waves of sleepless sandalwood. My marks faded. I wonder if he asked. I wonder how she lied. I wonder if he believed it.
    Adam has his phone pressed to his ear, prattling off about nonsense and nothing matters to this guy. I don’t need to know him. I see the brown staring back at me with the same desire I’m pushing down into the depths of my starving soul.
    He doesn’t even realize—my hands have been all over his wife. I’ve been inside of his wife. My name has left her lips as I fulfilled her in ways he could only wish.
    “ Oh …” Mary giggles, glancing to me over her shoulder.
    Shit.
    “Just scan the rest. Call Heath if you need help, I’m on fucking break.” I tug my apron strings and use it as a shield, bunched in my hands, headed for the automatic doors.
     
    DAY TEN
    “Who are we spying on? Heath whispers, sitting in a large empty box beside mine. I have one small hole poked through the cardboard, squinting an eye, as I hold in my laughter.
    “Lilla.”
    We should be unloading the truck. My father is probably having a minor breakdown in the stockroom.
    “What’s up with you and this chick?” I hear him shuffling around and I imagine he is making his own peeping hole.
    “Lilla is so fucking delicious today. Goddamn, I’d eat her.” Hair is perfectly straight with this tiny black bow pinned to the side. Her skin shimmering and bronzed. Honey-girl is honey. Shiny and glossed. Damn, just looks like she’d smell of coconut and salt water.
    “Are you looking where I’m looking, Heath?”
    Heath chuckles. “Yeah, she’s some good meat-beating material, that’s for sure. I knocked out a load to her in the short-shorts a few nights back.”
    Lilla is turned around. I pop my body half way out of the box, looking over to his. My hand punches the cardboard.
    “I don’t need to know shit like that, Heath.”
    “Shh, we’re gonna get caught.” He waves me down.
    I sit back inside of the large empty carton and watch as Lilla picks out produce. I bite the shit out of my lip as she drops a lime and bends over—at the waist—not the knees—to retrieve it.
    Two heads emerge from the box. Mouths gaping … as …
    “Dude,” he says, “she’s not wearing underwear.”
    I go to punch Heath, but I lose my footing and the box twists, sending me crashing into his box, domino effect, knocking him over.
    Suddenly,