“Oh God, oh my God,” she whimpers, making me want to slide a finger inside those bubblegum panties and tear them from her body. Soft moans turn to ragged gasps as I slide one thumb against the mound of her clit. Like I push a button, she shoots off in a thousand shudders around me. She sounds like a goddamn angel when she comes. I didn’t know that was a thing, but hell if it isn’t true.
"Watching you come makes me want to take you home and tie you up to my bed and do this on repeat all weekend long."
A lazy smile spreads over her lips. "That sounds amazing."
"Mm, well, I don't like to make a habit of inviting strangers to stay in my home, but an exception could be made..." I slide my hands up her body, cupping her full breasts as I do, licking at the flesh that pushes out of the V-neck of her dress. Sucking between her succulent cleavage then over her collarbone, I taste the hollow of her neck, making a point of leaving a small hickey. My mark on her, just like it should be.
Our lips connect, soft and slow, my cock nestled against her hot pussy and grinding as my head and heart war. I want to dive into her. I have a feeling if I do, I'll get lost and forget to come up for air, but I don't want to overstep.
“Love making you cum, precious.”
Her eyes twinkle with mischief. And just like that, a fucking mortar bursts inside my chest.
She is gorgeous. How the fuck have I gotten myself here?
I groan, suddenly feeling like her touch burns, launching off her body as though my life depends on it. Hell, it does. I'm about to fuck the town librarian on the construction site. I’m not even sure if this is ethical, not to mention the age gap that separates us. She’s looks at least a decade younger than me, but she’s here and writhing under my touch so I don’t think she minds.
"Fuck me." I step away, the realization that I’m playing with fire when it comes to Ruby is like a bucket of ice water in my veins. If I have her, I’ll never be able to let go, and she’s not ready for that. Not yet.
“I–I should get home.” Her eyes are darting around the library and landing anywhere but on me.
“Let me walk you–”
“No! No, I mean thank you, but I’m fine.” And before I can protest, she’s gone, the only thing left lingering is the soft scent of her need and my annoyance at myself for fucking this up.Again.
Chapter Nine
Ruby
I step onto the construction site the evening after the intense moments with Pope’s tongue on my body. The late afternoon sun casts Copper Mountain in hues of gold and amber, but the beauty of it is lost on me. There’s something wrong, a prickling sensation creeping up the back of my neck, making every nerve in my body scream that something isn’t right. The familiar scent of sawdust fills the air, but instead of comfort, it sets my teeth on edge.
My eyes dart around the half-built library, searching. Everything looks quiet—too quiet. The usual noise of tools clinking and the hum of work has died down, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake. And then I see it. A figure crouched by the wood stacks, hands moving deliberately, like he’s up to no good. My stomach lurches as I recognize him—him.
My ex. Jeremy. The man who’s been haunting my steps, lurking at the edges of my life. He’s here, in broad daylight, doing something to the structure Pope and I have poured everything into. I can see it in the way his hands move over the bolts of one of the support beams—he’s messing withthe foundation, loosening bolts like he’s about to tear apart everything I’ve tried to build.
Fear coils tight in my chest, anger flashing through me just as quickly. This is how he works—through sabotage, through little acts of control meant to remind me that no matter how far I think I’ve gotten from him, he can still worm his way into my life. But I’m not that woman anymore. I refuse to be. Not when I’ve fought so hard to stand on my own two feet.
Before I can take a step, before I can even think of how to stop him, the steady sound of boots on gravel reaches my ears. I turn and see Pope walking toward us, his tall, broad frame cutting through the evening light like a storm rolling in. The look on his face sends a shiver down my spine—not fear, but something close. I know what’s about to happen. He’s seen my ex.
Pope’s moving with that quiet intensity he gets when he’s furious, the muscles in his arms coiled with tension. He’s always been a man of action, and right now, everything about him screams that he’s ready for a fight. My heart races, but not because I’m scared of Pope. I’m scared of what he might do if he lets his anger loose. I’ve seen him fight to protect me before, but this…this feels different. This feels personal.
He reaches Jeremy before I can, his body blocking my view for a moment as he steps in between us, shielding me in a way that makes my breath catch. “You think this is how you get her back?” Pope’s voice cuts through the stillness like a blade—low, dangerous, the kind of tone that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Messing with something she’s worked for? Sabotaging her life because you can’t stand that she doesn’t need you anymore?”
Jeremy straightens up, and I can see the sneer on his face, that twisted expression I’ve grown so used to. But even he knows something’s shifted. I can see it in the way his eyes flicker withuncertainty, the moment he realizes Pope isn’t someone he can intimidate. “This doesn’t concern you,” Jeremy says, trying to sound tough, but his voice wavers. “You don’t know anything about her. She’s mine.”
The words hit me like a slap, even though I know they’re meant to wound Pope. But Pope doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t explode the way I feared he might. Instead, he steps closer, his fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight. “She’s not yours,” Pope says, each word steady and terrifying in its calmness. “She was never yours. And she sure as hell won’t be now.”
I can feel the power in his words, the way they reverberate through the space between them, making the air feel charged with electricity. Pope’s not even raising his voice, but it’s the quiet intensity, the raw control, that makes it all the more terrifying. He’s not going to give my ex the satisfaction of seeing him lose control. Instead, he’s making it clear who’s in charge here, and it’s not Jeremy. Not anymore.
Jeremy stumbles back, his bravado cracking as he realizes he’s outmatched. His eyes dart from Pope to the building, back to me, and I can see him shrinking, his confidence draining. “This isn’t over,” he mutters, his voice losing its edge as he takes another step back. “You’ll see.”
Pope doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. “It is,” he says, his voice final, unwavering. And just like that, my ex turns and slinks off into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as he came.
I’m standing there, rooted to the spot, my heart pounding in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins. But it’s not fear anymore. It’s something else. Something deeper. I watch Pope, the way his shoulders relax now that my ex is gone, the way he doesn’t immediately turn to me, giving me space to breathe, to process.
In that moment, it hits me like a tidal wave. Pope isn’t my ex. He’s nothing like him. He didn’t try to control me, didn’t fightfor dominance or power. He just stood there, a solid, unwavering force, protecting me without suffocating me. And I realize now that I’ve been running—running from Pope, from the possibility of something real, something that might actually be good for me. But Pope isn’t here to take control. He’s here to give me space, to let me stand on my own, but with him by my side.
Tears well in my eyes, the weight of everything I’ve been holding in crashing down on me. All the fear, the hesitation, the constant second-guessing—it all feels so small compared to the truth in front of me. Pope was never the enemy. He’s always been on my side, waiting for me to see it.
