Page 26 of Wicked Me
“You’d be like every other librarian I’ve ever known.”
She laughed, and God help me, I could listen to that sound forever.
“Finish it,” she said. “You’re past me anyway.”
“Cool. Thanks.” I held her warm, brown gaze until she blushed again and smiled at a spot on the carpet.
Was she thinking about me? About all the things I would do to her right there on her pile of books? My jeans were stretching past the point of uncomfortable, so I took my hand from my pocket but it didn’t help. With her here, I walked around with a constant hard-on.
“In case I finish it, do you have another one? One kind of like this one?” I asked.
“Of course.”
I must have hit the librarian switch inside her because she moved through her piles with ninja precision and stood to hand me three books within seconds.
“These all have male cops as main characters, and I have more on my e-reader if you want them. Consider me your own personal librarian.”
Sweet Jesus. Done.
The shadows in the hallway darkened her honey-colored arm as she handed the books to me, but not enough to hide the goose bumps there. I dug my fingers into the doorframe to keep from reaching out and smoothing them over her silky skin to warm her.
“You really like it? Even the sex parts?” she asked.
“Yeah. It’s not bad.” The truth was I hadn’t picked up a book I didn’t have to since readingLord of the Fliesin high school. Her book was definitely written with women in mind, but it held my attention, gave me an excuse to see her eyes light up. Win-win. I took the three books from her, making sure I brushed her fingers with mine just to see her shiver. Her nipples pushed into the fabric of her thin T-shirt before she crossed her arms over her chest. What I wouldn’t give to run my tongue over those nipples and pull them into tighter buds with my teeth. “So, you have an e-reader, too?”
“For backup. I prefer paperbacks because of the smell of the pages and the ink. It’s intoxicating,” she said, shrugging.
Just like she was. “You do remember there’s a public library within walking distance, right?”
“That’s backup for my backup.”
“And you’re going to be interning at a library.”
“Backup for my backup’s backup,” she said and laughed. “Hi, my name is Paige, and I have a book problem.”
I chuckled. “Right. Well, I’ll be downstairs.”
“Thanks, Sam. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”
“Yeah. So?”
She shrugged. “You’re staying up to read. I think I might be turning you into a book whore.”
“You might be right.” I saluted her with my three books. “Try to get some sleep.”
“You too,” she said, and as I turned away, I swore I could feel her gaze sliding over my ass. My own personal naughty librarian.
Three hours later, I was officially a book whore and completely okay with it. So what if I was reading chick books? This author seemed to know her shit on police procedural stuff. That was the part that sucked me in. I laid the finished book on the coffee table with Paige’s bookmark securely in place and took one of the three unread ones up the stairs. On normal nights, even on Sundays when the bars weren’t open, I’d come home at three or four o’clock in the morning completely wasted. At least book whores didn’t show up to work the next day suffering from a hangover.
Paige’s door was shut, so I crept across the hall to my room, but a faint buzzing noise stopped me in my tracks. What was that? I tipped my head to better gauge where it was coming from. Not my room. Not downstairs. I stepped toward Paige’s door, and the sound grew louder. What was she...?
Oooooh. I smiled even as the bulge in my jeans throbbed against the zipper. I’d told her there were much better things to do than sleep, but that was one thing I hadn’t even considered. When we’d sat on the couch earlier together with bullets and brains flying left and right on the TV, the need in her eyes when she looked at me had fired me up to the point where I thought I’d lose control and take her, all of her, right then and there. But I couldn’t do that or I might push her away for good. Too risky. If she was jilling off, though, chances were fairly good she was thinking about me. And that made all the blood in my body rush south.
I bit down on my fist to keep from groaning, but the roar of everything inside me made it hard to hear. I stepped closer, hands shaking with the need to yank at the doorknob and replace her fantasy with reality. But again—too risky.
Wait. Was that a whimper? I swallowed hard. My hand flew to my crotch involuntarily. My stomach spasmed as I stroked the swell in my jeans while I imagined her gasping on the bed, sweat rolling between her tits while she worked herself closer to orgasm.
Only a door separated us, only a door and my tight-ass jeans. With trembling hands, I undid my button and unzipped them. When I gripped my dick in my hand, she let out a little moan. My knees weakened. I gasped and posted my hand on the wall so I wouldn’t fall over. She was close. Had to be. So was I.
