Price told himself it was the last time.
He wouldn't aimlessly follow your scent through the city. But that's the reason he put in a rare request for time off, took multiple flights.
To do just that.
His fingers grazed the wood as he walked the aisle in search of you. Every step calculated, even the baseball cap that hid his darkened eyes. He knew the odds of being questioned were slim. As long as he played his cards right.
He leaned over just enough to gain sight over the perfectly lined books. Starved for a glimpse, a trace of your silhouette that faded from his memory while deployed. He could no longer _see_ you. Your face turned into a blur with your body morphing into other women he's been with.
It's been torture without the image of you.
He peaked behind him leaning back in the aisle looking for clearance. Last thing he needed was to be caught and placed on leave for psychic evaluation.
Again.
Even if it was long ago, his time spent in psych was not fun. He'd blame you for not behaving, for not being the good girl he knew he could morph you into.
And you are a good girl aren't you y/n.
He wondered if you'd scream if he placed his hand over your mouth and dragged you of here. It'd be the easiest capture of his career with how oblivious you were to your surroundings.
He continued down the aisle peaking through openings until you came into his view. Just the sight of you made his blood rush to his core. Even more so when your back stretched reaching for a book on the top shelf
He watched you struggle, in awe of the view as he rooted for you. Your ass jiggled as your heels planted on the carpet in success. You were a sight to see, one he'd take for his own.
But not now, right now he needed to plant every curve of you in his memory for later. He watched you flip the pages in interest, crossing one leg over the other leaning against the book case.
His fingers traced his belt, his heart beat traveled to his length aching to liberated, to be stroked to the live show you're so gracefully playing for him. His fingers squeezed his bottom lip as he fought to stay composed.
His mouth watered seeing your hip poked out inviting him to dig in. His teeth dug into the membrane of his inner lips drawing blood, he could feel the strength of his release building.
His thumb rubbed the wooden edge of the bookcase in search for something to distract himself. Otherwise he'd capture you before you traveled to your next destination.
You placed the book back and left the aisle, and he moaned in disappointment watching his high leave his sight.
He peaked around the corner half face hidden by the wood catching the last glimpse of your hips swaying. His eyes rolled feeling a pull in his depths. He needed you, in a way he never needed anyone before.
He reached for the book that took your interest. Folding the pages your fingers touched. Excitement rushed throughout him feeling so close to you, feeling the warmth your fingers left against the paper.
He wished the warmth would last, that he could jar your heat and take it with him. He stared into the distance convinced that if he followed you back to your place, he'd stand a chance.
And if he didn't... we'll...He—
"You into Stephen King?" Your angelic voice made his ears lift. His eyes reached yours before his head could turn.
"I- I'm sorry, what?" His skin heated, he swore it was the core of you. Radiating the warmth he felt on those pages that made him stammer.
"The book." You smiled pointing at it. "I was just looking at it, decided to come back and get it last minute." You explained.
"Oh." He looked down at the book and continued. "Just looking for something." He tilted his head. "Different." The corner of his lips curling.
He cleared his throat "you come to this bookstore often?" He felt as you were pulling the moisture from his pores, fighting to keep his eyes from dancing your body.
He dared not give himself away, not while you were this close. "First time." You cross your fingers in front of you glancing away before looking back.
Don't lie to me Y/N. It breaks my heart.
"Same." He handed you the book "I think this is yours." Pressing his lips together in a gentle smile. "You're beautiful by the way." He added.
Hoping to see that smile of yours up close. And just as he'd hoped you smiled wide. "Thank you." Your cheeks reddened with your finger tucking loose hair behind your ear.
"What's your name?" He asked while pushing down all the vile things he wanted to do to you, if you'd let him. "Y/N."
"Yours?" You tilt your head curious about the man that stood before you. "John" His voice strained, trying to hide his eagerness. "What's your next destination?"
"Going out with friends." He disliked your answer as he fought the urge to huff keeping a stone face. "Room for one more?" He asked and even if your answer was no.
He'd be seeing you later.
