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His question gave me pause, and I hadn’t expected to feel the way I did when he asked. It was a simple question, really. A yes or no answer. Yet I found myself thinking back on the moment I’d nearly knocked Whitney to the ground on the first day of the semester and she’d ripped me apart for it, only to find out I was one of her professors.
I’d been transfixed by her then. And now that feeling had only grown to the point of being on the verge of out of control.
Bill swept his tongue along the inside of his lower lip and nodded. “Ah, well, I’ll take that as a yes.”
“You bust my balls every time I come in here, Bill.”
“You’re wound too tight, that’s why. Gatlington will suck the life right out of you if you’re not careful.”
“It’s been fine so far,” I replied, finishing off my coffee. We talked for a few minutes longer like old friends, then I asked for a few copies of some of the rare books he had. I needed something to fill my mind other than wondering when I could get Whitney alone again.
I went home to shower and change and then went to the library.
The library stayed open no matter the day, the weather, or the time of year. With campus empty, the library, already ghostly silent, felt like stepping into another dimension. There were only a handful of people there, two of which being librarians, and most everyone was situated on the first floor, happily typing away on their laptops or reading books.
I liked the third floor the best. One side housed the stacks, an area with a maze of bookshelves that went nearly to the ceiling, and other side, across the wide opening looking down to the first floor, had a large, open seating area with a massive fireplace in the center that warmed the whole room.
I sat down at one of the tables and pulled out the books I’d borrowed from Bill, laying them out. This was for fun; at least I told myself that. In reality, I was grasping at straws trying to find a way to keep my mind free of Whitney.
We’d said we’d meet up again later this week, and now it was Wednesday, and we hadn’t seen each other since I’d had to find a way to sneak her out of my cottage yesterday morning.
I flipped through the books, trying to waste time and also trying to work up the nerve to just go find her and talk to her.
Two excruciatingly long hours later, I heard footsteps on the stairs. They echoed through the silence. I turned and saw her just as she started walking toward the stacks. She set her bag on a table and pulled out her laptop.
And then Whitney looked up, seeing me.
We stared at each other for a moment. I stood up slowly, keeping my eyes on her. She straightened up and tilted her head toward the stacks, giving me a sly smile before turning and disappearing into the maze of shelves.
I followed, glancing down the stairs at the silent library below.
Quiet as it was, I could hear my heart thundering against my ribs as I walked deeper and deeper into the stacks until I turned a corner and found her.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me hard while I pushed her up against a bookshelf and buried my hands in her hair.
It wouldn’t have surprised me to learn that people had sex in this place. I was sure they did, given its remoteness to the common spaces in the library and its dim lighting. We were putting everything on the line just kissing each other, though. We both knew we couldn’t take that kind of risk, not here.
I started kissing her neck, and she moaned.
“Quiet,” I growled, nipping her skin, which made her grind against me.
“Where can we go?” she whispered as I kissed lower, brushing my lips over her collarbone. “My place? Yours?”
I silenced her with a deep kiss. She bit down on my lower lip, and I momentarily lost control, my hands sliding under her sweater and running over the flat of her stomach to her breasts.
A couple of murmured voices drifted toward us. She went still, her eyes focused over my shoulder.
“Do you see anyone?” I pressed a kiss to her neck, trailing down to her exposed skin where her faded crew-neck sweater hung over one shoulder.
“No,” she whispered back, her breath hitching in her throat. “Rhys. What are we going to do? I just want to—want to be with you for a minute.”
“I want more than a minute,” I replied breathlessly, finding it harder and harder to control myself. “I want to take you out tonight.”
“Take me out?” she hissed, surprised.
A muffled laugh cut through the air in the distance, making it painfully obvious that while we weren’t visible to whoever was nearby, we weren’t alone.
I reluctantly stepped away from her, glancing left and right. “Yeah, Whit. I want to take you out. For dinner or something. We could go to the gallery.”
