Read Me (Forget the Past, #2)

by Lauren Connolly

“Medicinal plants. Dewey 581.” Every number he lists off is correct, and I decide that no man as hot as an inferno should be allowed to talk about library organizational methods. It’s too much. I need a fan. Or a respirator. “Are you a secret librarian?” The corner of his mouth curls. “No.” “But you have the Dewey decimal system memorized?” “The important parts.”

I’m not the type of guy to badger a woman. When I ask Summer out, if she tells me no, then I’ll accept it. It’ll be hard to give up on the idea of us together. The future where every one of her smiles is for me. But I take a woman’s no seriously.

Out of the corner of my eye, I observe the lithe way he walks, all casual and smooth. Cat-like. He’s a giant cat, and I want to reach up and scratch behind his ears. Stop it! Not appropriate.

“Thank you, Mrs. Faun. Your disregard for due dates keeps the library event account well-funded.” The eighty-year-old woman smiles at me as she pushes her handful of dimes across the counter. “I’m a rebel. Always have been.”

But too often I see those rules only benefiting a certain wealthy group of people. I’ve gotten too close to the lowest end of the economic spectrum to find someone being denied money amusing.

Fucking sweet. Just like this goddamned wine. I can’t believe I let him order for me. My mom would have flipped a table if she found out.

Cats. Never clear about what they want, but will make sure to punish you if you don’t figure it out. “Let me finish

his extended hand has a layer of expectation to it. That I will abandon whatever task I’m doing and go talk to him. Not taking into account what I want, or what important duty I might be performing.

If I tell Joshua yes, then he will forever think that my no is worth nothing.

“Just give me a minute, Summer.” I don’t have to give you anything! I want to scream,

“I used you to escape an uncomfortable situation. I’m sorry.” He shrugs, eyes still not meeting mine. “Use me any time.” Don’t say things like that, my reasonable brain whispers even as my

I lean in to her too, bringing myself close enough to smell her. Maybe that’s weird, but I’ve been dying to know what her scent is. Because that’s one step away from knowing how she tastes.

The way the woman says researching makes the word sound dirty. I like it.

“I think we need a safe word.” Good thing I already parked because that sentence has me choking on my tongue and coughing until my eyes water.

floor, stroking Smaug’s ears as I scan through my thrift store DVD collection to figure out what the longest movie I own is. Summer

“Can I kiss you here?” His fingers release my chin, trailing lower, to the insistent pulse pounding in my neck.

He’s gentle, and I’m surprised to realize I want Cole to be rough. I want to feel ravished. Consumed. Like I’m the air his lungs need to breathe.

“You gonna come for me? You like me stroking your pussy?” Send me to the archives of Hell. His dirty talk starts an erotic tremble in my muscles. “I want… I want…” “Tell me. I’ll give it to you.” “Inside,” is all I can gasp out, but he picks up on my meaning. His vise around my waist loosens, and his second hand sneaks between my legs. One, then two fingers push into me. A satisfied moan mixes with the wet noises of him entering me. “Fuck, Summer. You’re soaking. This all for me?”

The rest of the world gets adorable put-together Summer. I’m the one who gets sensual, wild, sex-mussed Summer.

“She’s the best.” I nod, returning my attention to the bombshell. “My girlfriend loves you. She’s going to be weird about it.” “Weird how?” “Weird perfect.” I glare.

“Oh good. That’s the best kind.” A purely joyful smile splits across the writer’s ruby lips. And I feel strangely at peace with the situation.

My librarian is breathless

I love that he calls her "mylibrarian" that's so fucking not!

“You were wearing a blue dress and a bunch of jingly bracelets. When I asked where the writers group was meeting you smiled at me like I said you won the lottery. So yeah, I wanted to find a private room, push your skirt up, and make your jewelry rattle.” My final word is emphasized by me shifting the truck into park.

Lips part, lashes flutter, and her back contracts on a gasped breath. “You have a tattoo,” I growl, even though I’m fucking overjoyed by the discovery. “Should I have told you?” Her question is breathless. “You should have shown me. Sooner. Months ago. Fuck me, Summer.” “I want to,” she practically whines, wiggling under my steel grip that still has her pinned to the bed.

My thrusts are measured. Despite all the talk of fucking, I want this to be more than that. Not jackhammering into her. This is about showing Summer all the pleasure I can bring her. Convince her to come back to me every day with hungry eyes and a wet pussy.

is scorching. Every spot we touch, which is a hell of a lot of spots, burns. He burns so good. My muscles are as liquid as the droplets trickling down my skin. Good thing Cole is holding me up. I’m a baked soufflé, on the verge of collapse.

in that murky half-sleep state when a thought occurs to me. “You know what this means right?” I whisper against Cole’s chest. “What’s that?” “You’re literally too hot for me to handle.” The sound of his snort is the last thing I remember before falling asleep.

“No. But if you dress up as a vampire, I’ll dress up as Santa.” Summer leans over me, her fingers digging into my bare chest, eyes sparking with lust. “You would do that for me?” I would do anything for you. But I keep that to myself. “There are weirder kinks. I’m not exactly the right build though.” I glance down at my slim, slightly underfed body. “I’m not looking for the belly.” Is she panting? “You find the outfit and call me a ho, and I will demolish you. You’ll want to relocate to the North Pole and pretend it’s Christmas year-round.”

“Guess we have a deal.” To seal it, I press a hot kiss against her lips. Then I give in to the urge to tease her. “But only if you’re good. Santa doesn’t just slide into anyone’s chimney.” I pair the image with a slow thrust into her warm, tight pussy. “But I don’t want to be good.” Summer pouts, shaking her head. Her heels dig into my ass, pulling me hard against her. Lips and hot breath brush against my ear just before her words. “Put me on your naughty list. I want some Cole in my stocking.” There’s a deliciously sharp sting on my shoulder paired with her hips rocking. She bit me.

“You’re like me.” “So?” “So.” He seems to chew on his words, then finally lets them free. “You’ll drive her away.” He could’ve punched me in the gut, and I wouldn’t have felt so sick. “If she loves me, she won’t leave.” My father keeps staring at the fish, it’s open mouth gaping, gasping for breath. Forever caught in the struggle for its life. “That’s not how love works.”

Without thought, I’m reaching for her, fingers splayed, ready to grab her. To pull her into me. Cage her in my arms. Want me like I want you. Don’t leave me. The thoughts whisper desperately in my subconscious.

Because I need this. I need her in my arms the same time I’m in her grip. I need the subtle scent of lilac mixing with the tartness of her arousal. I need to hear her beg me for more, convincing myself that the longing in her voice applies to more than just sex. I need her to need me. “Please. I’m so close.” Nails scrape along my scalp as her hips rock, seeking the pleasure she knows I can give her. But is pleasure all that she wants from me? Still, I can’t deny

I love you, I repeat to myself as I thrust inside her. I love you. My hips press into her soft thighs. I love you. Her hands pull me in for a searing kiss. As my orgasm blurs everything else in my mind, two words play on repeat. A silent, desperate plea. Love me.

I lied because I am terrified. Terrified of life without you in it. I am desperate for you, and I believed lies were the only way to keep you from leaving. If I had known that truth was the key to you, I would have shared every detail of my pathetic existence.”