Page 5 of Sinful Touch

Fuck.

My cock pulses as I take the steps two at a time, walking through the big doors. The library will be closing soon, which means she will be walking out. I don't like it, but it is part of her routine. I am not ready to come out from the shadows just yet, but soon, I won’t be able to hold back anymore.

I slowly make my way towards the back. I know where she will be sitting. She is drawn to the fiction romance section.

I slide past a few people getting ready to leave the library, and I turn right down a small hallway leading back to the section most forget about.

I come to a stop as I hear Lil talking to someone. I don’t need to see her face to know it is her. I would know her voice fucking anywhere. Her voice consumes me all day, every day. I can’t get it out of my head. I have tried, but the booze doesn’t do shit, not like it used to. Stupid fucking tolerance.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I haven’t answered because I have been busy,” she confesses to her mother in a low and timid voice.

My heart races as I slowly turn and look around the bookcase. Lil is on the ground surrounded by different books, including a few of mine. Her notebook is sitting on the ground next to her, and she holds tightly onto her knees, listening to whatever her mom is saying on the other line.

“No, Mom, I am not in a dress right now,” She says in a low, scared tone.

I watch her closely; she is holding tightly onto her knees. She is very uncomfortable right now, and he mother is not even here; she is on the phone. It makes me wonder what the fuck that woman has done to her daughter to make her react this way to a simple phone.

“Because I am at the library, Mom,” she says, pleading with her mother to stop without saying the words.

I watch her take a deep breath and lean her head back against the bookcase. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, and I watch as tears roll down her beautiful red cheeks.

It is not as simple as I thought it was. Her words echo inside my mind, her trying to justify why she is wearing comfortable clothing.

“I will try harder, Mom. Okay, I will dress up tomorrow,” she confesses through a sob.

My heart sinks with how she looks right now, I can’t tell you how many times I have dreamed of tears rolling down her face, feeling her gag against my cock, but I never want to see her cry like this

“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m sorry,” She says in a low, cracked voice.

That explains why she said those words to me. She has been conditioned to say she is sorry even when she hasn’t done anything wrong.

She nods to nothing as she responds to her mother. “I will send you a picture of what I wear tomorrow before class.”

I look over at her. She is wearing Converse sneakers, her favorite grey joggers, and a black hoodie.

She always wears clothes that do not show off her beautiful curves underneath. But I don't see what her mother sees or others; I see right now at this moment how fucking gorgeous she is without even having to try. She doesn’t have to wear makeup or spend time on her hair, and there is something about her big black glasses and the messy bun that makes my cock pulse against my jeans.

I bite down on my lower lip as I keep my eyes on Lil. She hangs up the phone and sits it beside her; her head rests against the bookshelf.

Her mother is fucking stupid, stupid not to see her daughter as gorgeous just the way she is. I don't know what the mother was saying on the other end of the phone, but from how Lil’s body language is right now, she feels very insecure about her looks; I can only imagine what the fuck is going on inside her head right now.

I can now see why she acts so timidly, why she says she is sorry, and why she withdraws from herself and her mother.

I take in a deep breath and close my eyes, and my hands form into fists as my bad memories flood into my mind.

I open my eyes and watch Lil. She releases her hold on her knees, reaches over, and grabs the notebook. I kneel, keeping my eyes on her. She starts to write, and more tears roll down her face. Everything inside me wants to go to her, whisper naughty things to her, and gently kiss away her tears.

Fuck me.

But the time isn't right, and she doesn’t need me. She needs her escape. She needs to process whatever the fuck just happened.

I slowly stand and position myself against the bookcase; she will probably stay here a few more hours and then choose to walk back to campus, it is a long walk, but she doesn’t seem to mind; on the other hand, it makes me nervous as fuck for her.

She is so innocent, too fucking innocent.

I slide out the side door and walk alongside the library wall. The rain is already coming down hard, and the wind is picking up.

I stop at the corner and peek around, making her way across the street and it. Liliana is starting to make her way down the sidewalk.

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