AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I don’t know what it’s like.
I do know that it’s not what’s supposed to be happening at all.
Except that the atmosphere West is creating makes me feel like this is what’s supposed to be happening. Exactly this. The West menace is, like, sex in aerosol form. He’s making it with his body, and then he’s putting it all over me.
My body is into it, too. My body is on board.
My body is such a traitor.
“Why’d you have to come?” His voice is low and husky. Lang
uid. His voice is a hook, catching on me. Reeling me in.
The music from his earbuds is a faraway drumbeat, and West doesn’t move his hands. I do, though. Mine have slid up to his neck, tangling in his hair, pulling his head down.
Okay, no, they haven’t. But they want to. They are positively itching to go rogue, and maybe he can see that in my eyes, because he makes this sound that’s not even a sound. It’s just an explosion of breath that does incendiary things to my panties.
“Tell me,” he insists.
Tell him what? I have no idea what he’s talking about. The only thing I know is if he doesn’t kiss me soon, I’m going to die. He’s so hot, and it’s not just that his skin is warm, although it is. It’s that I can feel all the energy from the fight coursing through him. He’s still jacked up and high on adrenaline and chemicals. He’s not himself. I’m not sure how I know this, but I do. West isn’t West, and I’m not Caroline. Not with him so close. Braced over me, heating me up, breathing against my neck, he feels like a guy who’s barely keeping it together. A guy who would beat the living shit out of the wrong someone if the wrong someone happened by, but who’d rather spend the rest of the afternoon and half the night fucking the right someone raw.
The right someone could be you.
I can’t believe I just thought that.
“Tell me,” he says again.
“Tell you what?”
“Why you’re here. ”
I look away, to the side and up, because I want him to kiss me and I shouldn’t. I don’t know him. I’m not sure I like him. He scares me. His knuckles are split where they grip the metal shelving—gripping it so hard, they’ve turned white. West is holding himself back from what he wants to do to me, and I wonder, what happens if he lets go?
Do I let him turn me around, bend me over this shelf, sink inside me?
I try to be disgusted by the idea, but, God, I can feel a ghost of what it would be like. It would be electric. Hot and slick, full and fast, the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to me. I know it. I know.
But then it would be over, and I think I know what that would be like, too. West silent and stiff-jawed. A closed door.
I’ve never even had a conversation with him.
I push at his chest, trying to break the spell. “West. We have to talk. ”
“We’re talking. ”
But I don’t have his attention. His attention’s lower, as it should be, because when did his knee get between my thighs? And am I really … ? Oh. I am. I’m kind of almost riding him.
“Get off,” I say.
I’m whispering, nervous again about being overheard and despised by studying students—though I haven’t actually seen any—or, worse, being seen here, doing this. They would talk about me. They would never stop talking about me riding West’s thigh in the library barely an hour after he punched Nate in the mouth.
This is the worst possible thing I could be doing right now.
“West, get off. ”
He lifts his head. His dark hair is falling in his face, and his eyes look like chips of sky.
He eases back. “What is it?”
