Page 7 of Dallas
I keep one hand on her hip. I don’t personally give a fuck if someone comes into the library and catches us in an embrace. She’s mine. I welcome someone finding out and spreading the news like wildfire. It will make my life easier. I wonder how much slower the library will be if every man and boy in town finds out she’s off the market and stops coming in for no reason.
“I…I should get back to work,” she mumbles as she turns and exits the room.
My fingers slide away from her, and I miss the contact instantly. I think she does, too, because she hesitates a moment when we lose the connection. Taking a deep breath, she continues toward the desk.
I watch as she straightens things, moving a pile of check-out cards from the left to the right, adjusting a pen, and swiping at nonexistent dust. I grin, loving how flustered she is.
I can’t wait to get more answers. I know she changed her name when she turned eighteen. She’s hiding in this one-horse town. She’s even disguised herself behind unnecessary glasses and old-lady attire. It’s eating me alive, but I think it’s best if I give her time to think about everything I just told her.
I shocked her with my revelation. Her mind is probably reeling from my unexpected bombshell.
Yes, baby, I know you have secrets, and I intend to hear about them. Sooner rather than later.
I haven’t moved. I stand in the doorway, looking at the back of my girl. I wonder if she can feel my eyes on her. I suddenly want to know everything about her. What’s her style when she’s not dressed like someone’s grandma in a dark, demure polyester skirt and buttoned-up blouse? How long is her hair when not in a matronly bun?
What will her pussy taste like? What will her ample breasts feel like in my palms?
I grab the doorframe and white-knuckle it as I linger on that last thought. How much bigger will her breasts get when she nurses our children? Will she tremble in my arms when I wrap my mouth around the swollen tips and suckle her myself?
Arianna suddenly spins around and glares at me. “Stop staring at me.”
I draw in a breath and smile at her. My cock is harder than a rock. There’s no way she hasn’t noticed.
She points past me into the room. “Don’t you have some boxes to dig through?”
I chuckle and find the strength to push off the frame and go back into the room. I love how frazzled she is. I can’t wait until she gets off work so I can take her upstairs and get to know more about her. I won’t disturb her with any more revelations while the library is open, but for the first time since I met her, I’m going to be on this side of the door when she locks it later this afternoon.
Arianna and I have a lot of ground to cover, and I intend to make a huge dent in that this evening.
Chapter 4
Arianna
* * *
This entire day has been a blur. I can’t process what happened earlier. I keep thinking that surely I misunderstood or made up some of the parts in my head.
It’s not possible that Dallas said everything my brain believes he did. I haven’t been able to focus since Doug left. Three other people came in during the afternoon. Two of them were women with young children who come in often to return children’s books and check out more. One was an older woman who regularly returns six romance novels and picks up six more. She’s read every romance book in this library about ten times. I wish I had the funds to increase that section.
Dallas usually stays a few hours and then leaves. Today, he has not left. When it’s finally five o’clock—time for me to lock up—I peek into the archive room, expecting to find Dallas leaning over blueprints, lost in his research.
I’m surprised to find that he’s put everything back in its box and is sitting at the table, leaning back in his chair. He has one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, and he’s strumming his fingertips on the table idly.
“Uh… I’m about to close for the day,” I tell him.
He pushes to standing. “Good. It seems like the day was twenty hours long.”
I bite into my bottom lip. Somehow, I know he has no intention of going back to the estate, and that has me all tied up in knots. I don’t want him to leave, but the thought of what’s going to happen between us next has me aflutter.
“Are you going home?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, baby. I’m going to go upstairs with you and see your place.”
My breath hitches. I shouldn’t be surprised, but hearing him say it out loud makes it more real. “I’m not going to have sex with you,” I blurt out.
He shuffles closer to me. When his fingers stroke over my cheek, I stop breathing. “Baby, you’re going to have sex with me a million times before we die, but we’re not starting tonight, so stop fretting over that.”
I gasp. He’s serious. “You’re so certain.”
