“Attention staff and students. The tornado has passed and we’re clear to move again. I’m asking all staff to bring students to the cafeteria for a headcount. Students will remain there until our ground crew assesses damages.” The loudspeaker clicked off.
I rose to my feet and helped the girls up. “Look at that, we’re all okay.” I patted them on the back. “I’m proud of you both for being so brave. Come on, I bet they’re serving snacks in the cafeteria.”
“Will you keep readingOona?” Sable asked Mildred. It was the first time I’d heard the queen of sixth grade sound shy.
“Here,” Mildred said, offering the book. “You can borrow it.” She looked up at me. “Is that against the rules, Ms. Stone? I’ve got it checked out for another week.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” I said, unable to hide my smile.
After I dropped the girls off with their homeroom leaders in the cafeteria, I was just settling in to the teachers’ table, ready to speculate about what the giant crash had been, when I realized I’d left my phone back in the library closet.
“Shit,” I muttered, leaping from the table. “Oh, sorry,” I said, at the row of surprised faces. “Bad habit.”Logan and his swearing.
I dashed back down the hall to the library and ducked inside the closet, grabbing my phone and stuffing it in my pocket. Since I was here, it would be useful to do an inventory of damage. I was about to sweep the bookshelves when I sensed quick motion.
I turned to face the library’s double doors just as they flew open. Logan streaked through. He looked like he’d run across the entire city. His navy suit was disheveled, his tie askew, his face sweaty and stricken. Worry radiated from him.
He saw me and his face crumpled in relief. To my astonishment, he seized me, wrapping his arms around me and clutching me to him. I blinked into his shoulder, cheek pressed against the smooth wool of his suit, feeling the rapid thump of his heart. I pulled back. “Logan—what in the world?”
He gripped my face like he needed to make sure I was real. “I was in a meeting with the wind farm people when Cary came in and said a tornado had ripped through the city and hit your school, and no one knew the extent of the damage.”
“Wait—you left your donor meeting?”
“All I could think was, what if something happened to you? What if you were hurt? I ran every stop sign.” He was still breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling. I stepped back from him, half out of surprise, half out of an instinct to give him room to breathe.
He pressed a hand to his mouth. “But you’re fine. I overreacted.” He yanked his hand away, warm brown eyes searching. “You’re fine, right?”
I nodded mutely. I felt like I’d stepped into an alternate reality. Was Logan really here in my library, undone by the thought that I was in danger?
“Okay.” He mirrored my nodding. “All right.” He was trying to compose himself, repeating words like a self-soothing mantra, but there was still a wildness about him. He looked like a man on the edge, and that made it hard to do anything but stare. Logan Arthur was always in control, even when he was pushing boundaries.
“The tornado passed right by us,” I said. “It sounded like it roughed up some of the buildings, but everyone is fine. I promise.” I gestured down at myself. “Look. All in one piece.”
“Yes. Good.” He nodded again and then shook his head, laughing a little. “I’m an idiot. I’ll let you get back to your day.”
I felt a sudden pang at the thought of him leaving. “It’s okay. It’s sweet.”
He waved me off, still shaking his head, and before I could say anything more, he turned and paced away, shoving open the doors to the library and disappearing. It became very quiet. The doors still swinging gently in his wake were the only proof he’d blown through here and it wasn’t a fever dream.
I remained rooted to the floor, mind racing. Logan had been so worried about me he’d walked out in the middle of a donor meeting. He’d burst into the library looking like a man about to lose his mind. It seemed too extreme a reaction for colleagues or even friends—
The double doors flew open again. “I can’t take this anymore.” Logan strode through. He was still shaking his head, but this time he looked determined, not ashamed. “Fuck the rules.” His sudden presence, the single-minded focus in his eyes—it was so strong I took a step back. He came within reaching distance and stopped, hands gripped by his sides, as if he was restraining himself. His pulse beat visibly in his throat as his eyes searched my face. “Please.” His voice was rough. The voice of a man at the end of his rope. “Please let me kiss you.”
The flame of attraction I’d held at bay since the night at the Fleur de Lis—the lust so intense it was unprecedented, the ache I carried everywhere, trying so hard to ignore—unleashed, flaring white-hot. All I could do was nod, overwhelmed by how much and how quickly Iwanted, the well of it so deep and obvious the moment I looked for it.
It was all the answer he needed. He closed the distance and caught my face, kissing me so fiercely I lifted to my toes to meet him. Like they always did around him, my inhibitions disappeared. His lips were so warm and soft. I almost laughed marveling that a man as gruff as him could kiss like this, so tenderly, making me feel like I was the only person on earth who mattered. I met each stroke of his hands and his tongue with the fervor of a person who’d wanted this a thousand times, across a thousand moments. When he finally wrenched away and looked at me in wonder, I whispered his name, in awe that we’d kissed for us—not for show. What did it mean? What did Iwantit to mean?
He misunderstood me, thinking I was admonishing him. “I know,” he said huskily. He kissed me on the forehead. “We can’t cross lines. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” He pressed a hand over his mouth and turned to leave. The final dam broke inside me and I grabbed his arm, twisting him back to me. “No. Stay.”
He looked at my hand. Then at my face, through downcast lashes. I saw the exact moment he understood what I wanted. He had me up against the stacks quickly, catching my mouth with his, hands cupping my jaw. He kissed me feverishly, nearly growling when I tilted my head for a better angle.
I knew how he felt. All reason fled: I wanted as much of him as I could get, as he would give me. I pulled at his tie, at the buttons of his shirt, turning into a version of myself I didn’t recognize, my desire so powerful I was nearly feral. I was desperate to take the edge off the ache between my legs, and Logan seemed to know. He lifted me against the bookshelf and I wrapped my legs around him until there was only the silk of my panties and the wool of his suit separating me from the rock-hard evidence of his desire. I rolled my hips, gasping at the hot-wire sensation, feeling the bookshelf wobble. Logan groaned in my ear and ground against me, following my lead, matching my rhythm.
All I could think about was getting closer to him, sinking deeper into the feeling building inside me. I had never been so turned on in my life.
Then a voice sounded from the hallway and we froze. In the drugged haze of kissing, I’d completely forgotten where we were.
Logan pressed his forehead to mine and shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Talk about this later?”
