“An outlet.”
The corner of his mouth pulled up. “And me?”
“Very smooth, Moretto.”
He grinned.
I tilted my head into his touch. “A welcome distraction.”
The grin changed to mock shock. “Is that it?”
“No,” I laughed, hugging the books to my chest. “I like you because you’re you... You don’t make fun of me for having hobbies. And I feel comforted by you... If all the books, paper, and pencils suddenly disappeared from the world tomorrow, I’d be okay with it because you’d still be here.”
Dean’s brows slowly turned up in the middle as I continued embarrassing myself with this outpouring of words. I couldn't stop myself.
“You’re my escape, outlet, and everything in between. I’ve—I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it’s a lot, and you’re perfect— And if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m just going to keep blabbing until I say something incredibly stupid,” I breathed.
The arm he had slung across the top shelf dropped as he brought his hands to the back of my head and pulled me into a kiss. I barely caught my breath when he did but melted into him regardless, pressing my body against the front of him, until he hissed in pain.
The bruises on his ribs.
I pulled back for a second, still clutching the books to my chest. “Sorry—”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said quickly, kissing me again before he pulled back briefly. “If anyone makes fun of you for having hobbies, I’ll beat the shit out of them.”
Tucking the books under my right arm, I gripped the front of his shirt with my spare hand and dragged him toward a deep alcove I spotted earlier. It was between two bookshelves on the adjacent wall, hidden behind the other stacks. We were completely out of sight up here, at the far end of the loft area, and could still hear if anyone came upstairs.
Dean pressed me into the wall, tugged the books out from under my arm, and then placed them somewhere nearby. I curled my fingers into the front of his maroon T-shirt, careful not to bump his ribs again, while he brought his palm up to the side of my throat. He brushed his thumb down the front of it and tilted my head back, gripping my jaw as he slanted his mouth over mine.
I was a flustered mess when he bumped my legs apart with his knee. A soft, breathy moan escaped me as I grew warm and heady.
He skimmed his hands down to my thighs and hoisted me up above his hips. Instinctively, my legs wrapped around his middle, causing my dress to shift higher. Now that I was at his height, I rested my elbows on his shoulders and folded my arms behind his head.
As his hands cupped my backside, his fingers skimmed my underwear. We were no longer just making out. This was risky. And extremely hard to pull away from. Before long, I was tossing up the pros and cons of having sex in a public space — in a library, among the books; against the books. We would be banned from ever entering this bookstore again if we were caught.
We heard the creak of the step at the same time, followed by voices drifting up. Dean quickly lowered me to my feet and I yanked my dress back down, dusting out the wrinkles while he grabbed my books and pretended to be reading one. I turned to peruse a nearby shelf when two women walked past the aisle. They didn't pay any attention to either of us, as they spoke amongst themselves, but we decided it was probably a good idea to leave.
What we had started wasn’t over. It was evident partially on our faces and in the way we moved around each other. It became increasingly difficult to focus, especially as I stood at the register paying for the books and Dean leaned casually against the counter beside me. Feigning interest in the rack of carved, wooden bookmarks sitting in front of him, he traced his finger through one of the indentations in the carving.
I bumped my hip against him as a playful warning.
The flustered feeling continued in his car, where he left his hand on my thigh while driving. Any intention of reading one of my new books when I got home had left my mind.
When we arrived at the apartment, late in the afternoon with the sun casting long shadows across the pavement, we didn’t waste time getting through the front doors, and then through the foyer and into the elevator. He kissed me against the wall again, sliding his hand up between my legs.
"So fuckin' hot," he groaned against my throat.
The doors opened on the third floor and we pulled apart.
I took his hand and pulled him into a jog towards my apartment door, unable to contain my smile and giddy laugh as he took me by the waist while I unlocked the door.
The apartment would be empty. Kira and Aiden would be at work, or at least finishing their shifts. Which meant Dean and I had plenty of time to spend alone.
We pushed our way inside and I barely pulled the key from the lock before Dean pinned me to the back of the door. His mouth dragged down over my throat while I tugged at the hem of his shirt, and then paused when I heard voices. Not inside but out in the hallway.
Dean stopped too but left his mouth on the column of my throat as I frowned up at the ceiling. The voices were getting closer.
My heart was pounding.
