Page 4 of One Night with Her Grumpy Orc

“Oh.” I guess that explains the scent of fear. We might be stuck here. “Are there any other exits?” I feel like I know every inch of this building. But I can’t say I’ve actually paid attention to which windows are exits.

Betty shakes her head no, the green pompom on her hat bobbing back and forth. “The building is old, as you know. There’s a very long maintenance list that includes things like installing windows that open, but that is pretty far down on the list. I think the only windows that open are on the east side. The others are painted shut.”

“Fascinating.” Somehow, I knew she was going to say the windows were on the east side. Ironic. “Is the furnace gas, at least?” Or oil? Or wood? Anything other than electric.

“Electric. I applied for a grant for an energy efficiency upgrade. It works great, except in blizzards.”

“And when the power is out.”

“That, too.” When she huffs out a breath, I see a cloud. I cringe at how cold it is already.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a surplus of blankets lying around, would you?” It’s a long shot, I know, but I need to get her warm, and fast. Who knows how long it will take someone to get us out of here.

Betty snorts a laugh, and the sound shocks me in the best way. She’s always so professional and put together. Between the snort and her loose hair fallen from her ever-present bun, she seems wilder. My cock twitches at the thought of a wild Betty.Chill out.

There’s no denying that my main reason for frequenting the library is to see Betty. To hear her kindness when she speaks to patrons. To take in her pear and vanilla scent as if she were mine. Now, with her wavy hair cascading around her, I can’t help but think of her and her hair wrapped around me, despite the urgency of our situation.

“Oh, Grev. Of course I don’t. It’s a library, not a hostel. Even if we made our way out of here, my Civic is buried in the snow. Maybe your truck would work, but my guess is it wouldn’t get far, seeing as the town’s one snowplow is now stuck at the library.” Her voice rises in pitch as she speaks, eyes grow wide. She’s reached her limit.

Two steps and I’m in her space, my arms wrap tightly around her. I want to give her all my warmth. “We’re going to hang out and stay warm.” And with that declaration, I scoop her up into my arms and carry her through the library, as if it were our wedding day and the bookshelves were our guests celebrating us.

I take her to the back corner, farthest away from the busted window, and set her gently on her feet. Move a couple of bookshelves to create a closed off corner for us, trying to provide as much insulation as possible. The sun has set, or the storm has grown even more severe, but either way—it’s dark. It’s quieter here, away from the wind whistling its way through the gaps of the temporary wall I made. Settling myself on the floor, as comfortable as I can be, I sigh at the irony of being trapped with thousands of books and not being able to read any because of the darkness.

Though I can’t see, I can smell Betty. Not only her pear and vanilla, but her slight nervousness and arousal.FocusGrev, on anything but her scent. Or the feel of her in my arms. Her closeness. Or the little breathy gasp she made when I picked her up.

I’m completely screwed.

“That was quite a sigh,” Betty says, teeth chattering between each word.

“Come here. We are going to huddle for warmth.” At that statement, she snorts out a laugh again. It takes a few seconds of quiet for her to shuffle over to me. She trips over my foot and lands on top of me with anoof.

“Sorry, I’m not very graceful when I’m frozen and can’t see.”

“Understandable.” I position her sideways on my lap and wrap my arms around her again.

We sit together like that in the dark silence. It’s a comfortable silence, even though the feel and scent of her is driving me crazy.

“Do you think we’ll be here all night?” There’s a slight quiver in her voice.

“Yes,” is all I say, because there’s nothing else to say. It’s dark. The snowplow is stuck and abandoned. We’re safe as we are—I’ll keep her safe.

It takes a while, but she finally relaxes enough to put her head on my shoulder. “That’s a good girl,” I say without thinking, enjoying the weight of her against me and the scent of her tickling my nose.

“Grev, I’ve never heard you say this many words. Ever. And I’ve been working here for a year. Now I’m sitting in your lap and you’re calling me a good girl. I don’t even know what to think.” She huffs half a laugh, but her head stays where it is, against my chest. I will my heart to stay steady.

“Betty, you’re the reason I love books. You’re the sun to my moody gray sky. I come to the library because of you. To be in the same room as you.”

“I’ve read a lot of romances in my day. Those are kissing words.”

And with that, she kisses me, her cold lips sizzle on my warm lips. So soft despite the cold. Her fingers grip at the sides of my shirt, holding us together as her mouth opens ever so slightly, letting me inhale her even more.

This is what I dream about at night. Not being stranded in a freezing library. But Betty. Being with Betty. With her as absorbed with me as I am with her. The entire world shut out, only us revolving around each other like stars in orbit.

When her tongue darts into my mouth, tentative and bold at the same time, fireworks erupt in my brain. A moan comes out of me and my hands grip her side and hip through her many layers of clothes, pulling her into me. She tastes like summer sunshine.

“Grev, I want this. Want you. Tell me you do, too.” Her voice rasps in the most delightful way.

“I’ve always wanted you.”

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