When our eyes meet, I raise a hand in greeting. He doesn’t do the same. Instead, he makes a beeline to my location. In fact, he comes at me with such determination on his face that I’m a little worried he’s going to scoop me up and toss me over his shoulder, caveman-style. I might enjoy a little Neanderthal play at my house, but this is my workplace.
Luckily, Roderick halts a few feet away, even as his eyes devour me in a not-at-all-appropriate-for-work manner.
“Are you free tonight?” he asks without a proper greeting.
“Well, hello to you too.” I finish shelving the book in my hand before fully turning to face him. A feat of self-control I’m immensely proud of.
A twitch at the corner of his mouth looks like the beginning of a rueful smile. “Hello, Juliet.”
With a quick movement, he scoops up my hand and brings it to his mouth. I wonder if he’s going to kiss the back, like we’re in some historical drama.
Instead, Roderick brushes his lips against the meaty part at the base of my thumb, a much more intimate hand kiss. Then I hear the slight intake of a breath as he presses his nose to my wrist.
When Roderick lets me go, my skin is vibrating with a shockingly erotic amount of pleasure. All from what he did to my hand.
It’s been three days since the night Roderick slept over at my house. If not for a large electrical job that had him working late into the evening, we probably would have gotten together sooner. But this way, I’ve had time to meet with a physician in town and check up on my physical health.
And what this werewolf just did to my body with a seemingly innocent touch has me wanting—desperately—to share what I’ve learned.
How do I tell a man I don’t have any STIs in a sexy way? Do I slip him the letter from my doctor with a suggestive wink?
No. That’s weird.
Just say it,I demand of myself.Try being just a little bit vulnerable with the guy.You danced in front of him!
“We can have sex,” is what I end up blurting.
His eyebrows curve up as I clap my hands over my mouth. With a frantic glance around, I’m relieved to discover there aren’t any patrons nearby. My gods, I can’t be saying X-rated stuff like that at my work. Especially when my job exists in a small-town library, frequently visited by people who love to gossip.
“Forget I said that. That was not what I meant to say.”
“You can be sure”—he takes a step closer, gaze level with mine—“that I will never forget you saying that.”
I try to glare at him. I really do. But the playful crinkle at the corners of his eyes has me fighting off a grin. When I shove Roderick in the chest, he’s nice enough to rock back on his heels like I successfully moved him.
“Hush.” Hopefully, my cheeks don’t look as hot as they feel. “To answer your original question, yes, I am free tonight. But I still have a half hour of work.”
“I can wait.” Roderick shuffles back, then walks deeper into the library, as if he’s browsing.
Damn it. Now I want to follow him around for the last part of my shift. What if he picks up a book? What if he startsreadingthe book?
There’s nothing much hotter than a gorgeous man reading. I have an entire Pinterest page devoted to images of it.
Trying to be responsible, I return to my normal tasks and do my best not to glance at the clock every five seconds.
Somehow, I make it through the next thirty minutes without stalking the werewolf. At six o’clock exactly, Roderick arrives at the circulation desk with a thriller and a book on seasonal desserts.
“You read?”
My voice holds more disbelief than I have the right to, and he raises an eyebrow at me.
“You thought I couldn’t?”
“Sorry!” I grab for his books, starting to scan them. “That came out wrong. I meant, you read for fun?”
Roderick’s lips twitch. “Yes.”
“Oh. Good.” I swallow, accepting his library card. “And … where do you read?”
