Black(7)

I tilted my head, doing my best to ignore him and continue my finger-tracing across the spines as the numbers climbed.

“Hotter.” His growl deepened and my knees nearly turned to jelly. I wanted to scream and batter on his giant chest. The incessant throbbing between my thighs was driving me insane. “Almost there,” he hummed and my clit burned and I thought he might actually be able to talk me to orgasm right there before his heavy hand landed on mine and stopped both our fingers on a dusty volume.

“Madame Bovary?” I asked without thinking, only feeling him invading my space, my senses, my mind, and how much I loved it.

“Not a fan of suicidal desperate housewives?” He chuckled and backed away again, leaving me reeling.

I huffed in a breath, feeling arousal pulse through my veins and tighten the buds of my nipples under the soft cotton of my shirt. “I’m more of an Elizabeth and Darcy girl myself.”

“Ah, a romantic. Of course you are. For a minute, I thought you might be a Sylvia Plath, but definitely an Austen. I see it now.” He pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger before whirling away and stalking down the aisle. What the hell had just happened? “Opening time,” he called as I followed him. “We open promptly at nine, not a minute earlier. I may not find you on my doorstep tomorrow, so I’d recommend you not be early again,” he said before the soft snick of the old latch gave and he twisted the sign to say open.

He was maddening, frustrating. Sharp-tongued and sexy as hell. One minute he was undoing me with his words, the next he was all business. I couldn’t quite put my finger on him.

A wry smile turned my lips as I followed his hulky body to the circulation desk, eager for more of his kind of training. Maxwell Black was unexpected and that made everything more exciting.





Five

Maxwell

I checked the Rolex at my wrist before taking long strides to the front door, flipping the closed sign for lunch break, then turned to the pretty girl at the circulation desk who, despite my best efforts very early this morning, had left me with a raging hard-on half the day. And we still had a whole afternoon to go.

Elle’s eyes arched in surprise before a flirty grin spread across her face. I found a barrel of laughter tumbling from my chest before I could even think. Just when I thought she was naive and innocent, she taunted me with that sexy curve of her jaw and the cute button nose.

“Looks like you’ve got something on your mind,” I said when I reached her at the desk.

“Don’t I though.” Her eyes gleamed and my dick twitched. I wanted to taste her lips. I wanted to take my time and taste every inch of her until I found the folds of her soft pussy and could bury my face in her. I wanted my teeth nibbling on her turned-on clit, her scent washing over me, embedded in my skin.

“Anything I can help with?” I leaned closer, saw her eyes dilate before her shoulders relaxed and her lips pressed forward, so fucking close to mine I had to stop myself from closing the distance between us and finding out what she actually tasted like.

“I hope so,” she purred in such a sexy way I was sure she’d done it before. Fooled some other poor asshole into falling for her before she walked away, that sexy giggle and round ass headed for the horizon.

I licked my lips, my eyes riveted on hers. “Why don’t you tell me what it is?” I drawled, falling a little further into her Lolita charm.

She sucked a lip between her bottom teeth like a minx before leaning in closer, her lips hovering at my ear so close I thought my dick might burst my fucking zipper. I pressed my hips into the cold wood, begging for relief. I’d need to fuck something soon. With a hint of vanilla and strawberries floating around me, her lips landed softly at the vein that throbbed at my neck and she whispered, “I was thinking…” My heartbeat pounded, rapping at the cage of my chest to escape. She was kissing me. Her fucking lips were on me. My eyes fell closed and I rooted myself to the spot. A woman’s lips hadn’t touched my skin in years.

Her soft lips parted before her nose trailed up the skin at my earlobe and she hummed, “I was thinking…food.” She said the last word before dragging her teeth across my earlobe, sending lightning bolts and thunder straight into my balls.

“Fuck,” I growled, my fists clenching at the lip of the counter as I struggled for strength.

“Something on your mind?” She stood from the chair, crossing her arms with a smile. Chestnut waves fell over one shoulder, curling around her breasts and highlighting her deep cleavage.

“I’m going to need to get you out of that shirt. Soon.” I leaned across the desk, my eyes riveted on her tits as I spoke. I didn’t give a fuck if I scared her; let the angry snarl and the bite in my words turn her on or send her running. I had nothing to lose. I’d locked myself up in this place for almost a decade, and still she was here, not running from me. “You don’t know who I am, Elle. Touch me like that again and you may not like what I do.” My eyes danced up the deep neck of her shirt—one I was sure she’d worn for me, accentuating all her soft dips and curves.