Page 33 of The Pact

10.

The Pact

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Ausra

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I YAWN AS I SHELVE the last return in the non-fiction section. I look at my watch with a sigh of relief at the idea that my shift is almost over.

Fifteen minutes and I can get the bus home and go for a nap, since Mc has the day off and can take care of Skye.

Bode took me home late last night and I had the opening shift at the library this morning. I feel exhausted but last night was definitely worth feeling a little groggy now.

I instinctively touch the skin at the base of my neck, right near my collarbone and smile, remembering McKayla’s giggle earlier this morning.

“Who are you and what have you done with my little sister?” She’d grinned. “Is that a hickey on your neck?”

I was thankful that my sister had plenty of experience with hiding hickeys when we lived with our parents because she helped me cover it up with makeup in no time.

I step toward the front desk, deciding to start shutting down my computer and I’m so wrapped up in my own little world, that I don’t noticed the tall, muscular man who’s next in line until his face is hidden by my monitor.

“Can you help me get a library card?”

I sigh. All my colleagues seem busy or have conveniently disappeared, so I guess I’ll have to deal with it. “I need an ID and proof of residence please,” I say extending my hand without even looking beyond the screen. If I make this quick, I should be able to catch the 1pm bus. I’d hate to have to wait for the next one.

It’s only then, as I look at the driving license I’m handed that I lift my head to look into a pair of amused gray eyes.

“Ashton? What are you doing here?” I gape and he chuckles, grabbing my hand and trying to pull me toward him but there’s a counter between us. “Wait, let me shut this down and I’m about to finish for the day.” I look at him again, uncertain about why he’s here. “Unless of course you really want a library card?”

The answer is one of those winks that make it hard not to blush. “I already have one. I just wanted to talk to you, cutie.”

“Ok, what’s up?” I ask, grabbing my purse and walking out from behind the reception desk.

But rather than walking outside, Ashton takes my hand and drags me back into the library, weaving through the shelves of the non-fiction section.

“Where are we going?” I half giggle, half protest because that bus is now definitely gone. “No one ever comes here, it’s the dustiest, oldest, most outdated books we have.” I observe as he comes to a stop in the most remote corner of the whole library.

“I know. I had some problems with algebra freshman year and I met my tutor here all the time.”

Something in his smile tells me that algebra wasn’t the only thing he learned here, but I decide not to dig any further, concentrating on the warmth of his large hand that still engulfs mine.

I lift my gaze to look at his perfect features. Ashton’s face looks like it was imagined by one of the great classical sculptors. It’s all symmetry and defined lines that seem to have been softened to make his face not just handsome, but irresistible. I’m standing close enough to see the white specks in his gray eyes, the perfect proportions of his nose and the soft heart shape of his lips.

I’m about to ask him again what he wants but the intensity in his gaze makes the words die in my mouth.

“Last night was fun,” he begins with his deep, low voice. “There’s just one thing I didn’t manage to do before the party was over.”

I don’t have the time to ask him what it was, because he dips his head and seizes my lips in a kiss that starts soft and gentle, almost hesitant. It’s as if Ashton wants to give me the chance to move away if I don’t want it.

But his lips are even softer than I imagined and I can’t bring myself to step away. I don’t even think when I kiss him back by increasing the pressure, pushing closer to him.

That’s like an invitation to deepen the kiss and when I feel Ashton’s tongue tracing the seam of my lips, I open up for him.

He tastes minty and vaguely sweet and he kisses with everything he has. Tongue, lips, teeth. He definitely knows what he’s doing, every brush of his lips, stroke of his tongue and scrape of his teeth is deliberate and skillful. I’m caged between his tall, large body and a wooden shelf near a window. I’m grateful for the support of all those hard surfaces, because my knees feel weak and I’m all but melting against him.

As my fists close around the soft cotton of his t-shirt, I realize that my body is asking for more. I clench my thighs, glad that Ashton can’t feel the wetness that’s starting to dampen my panties. It’s as if after what Bode did to me last night, all my senses are heightened.

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