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I dig my fingers into Sazuki’s arm when we walk down the aisle of bookshelves. All the girls we stalk past are starting to take notice of him, their heads popping out of books and their greedy eyes lingering.
I struggle to push my possessiveness away. The pit of fury in my stomach is something I’ll have to get used to if I plan to stay with a man as arresting as Sazuki.
But it’s not a lesson I have to learn today.
I drag him into the reference section. The smell of dusty books fills the air. Sunshine pours through a few small windows near the roof.
“Okay.” I drop his hand. “We can talk here.”
He glances around. “Is this a secret room?”
“It might as well be. Most people don’t use the library for reference anymore. All the information we need is readily available on the internet.” I gesture to the small booth at the back of the room. “When I wanted to catch up on a nap after class, I usually came here. No one disturbed me.”
“You must have worked very hard to get where you are now.” He turns, showing off his strong profile. I thirstily absorb the angle of his jaw to the slope of his throat and the pale skin disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.
My voice is raw with a hunger that has nothing to do with food. “I did what I had to do. As everyone does.”
He shakes his head. “You choose the strangest things to be humble about.”
I stare frankly back at him.
The air carries a hint ofsomething.
Something electric.
Something powerful.
Something overwhelming.
I want more of that feeling. I want it on my skin. Deeper than that. In my heart, firing up my veins like a cord snapping into a power grid.
Oh no.
I’m becoming obsessed and it hasn’t been that long since we started dating. How much more of myself am I going to lose to him? How much of myself am I going to discover?
Why does that both scare and invigorate me?
I feel him move closer. It’s like a hot, stretching thread that tightens and tightens as the distance between us disappears. One second, I’m standing by the table with my backpack on. The next, his arms close around me and snatch me against his body.
Anticipation bubbles in me with a violent force, but I can’t help teasing him. “Is this how mature adults solve their arguments, Mr. Sazuki? I only brought you here to talk.”
He whirls me around and pins me against the bookshelf. The smell of stories, weathered pages, and sunshine tangles with the scent of leaking desire.
His touch on my back presses harder. “If you only wished to talk, you should not have looked at me like that.”
I feel the smoke coming off my body.
I’m in flames. Singed.
But it doesn’t matter. Not when his mouth caresses mine and the last remnants of my anger and dejection fade away.
The kiss is firm and demanding. It’s like he’s digging deep inside me, reaching for the parts of me that I haven’t given to anyone else, and branding them with his name.
My heart squeezes and squeezes until it threatens topop.
Mercy.
I scrape my fingers over his shoulder and across his back, fighting for purchase. Fighting to stay upright against the onslaught of hot pleasure. But it keeps battering me. Wave after wave. Like a volcano that’s already erupted, lava rushing down the mountain and devouring everything in its path.
