Page 8 of Daddy's Little Librarian
She listened, trying hard to understand.
Her confusion must have been obvious, because he said, “I should be so much further along than where I am right now in my life. I’m not set up right now for complications. Now, you’re pretty, okay.” He waved an arm out toward the closed bathroom door. “You’ve obviously got Gram’s vote, and annoyed as I am with her right now, that does count for something. But I am old school, okay? I like to get to know the people I do this with. I like to take them out, maybe catch a nice dinner, get to know them and develop feelings—”
She swallowed hard. “I didn’t realize that was part of the service.”
“I’d also like to get to a point where it’s not called a service,” he added. “I’m not a bull in a pasture.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you. I just didn’t realize.” She blinked rapidly, but her disappointment was overwhelming. She didn’t know if he was her last chance or not, but it felt that way. She honestly didn’t know where else to turn. “Would it make any difference if I promised to do anything you say? I mean, anything. I know things are bound to get rough, and I’m sorry about that. But I really will try to do whatever it takes so you don’t get hurt. Won’t you please reconsider?”
He came down to her level so fast, she jumped back. But like with the door, the bathroom only had so much space. She bumped up hard against the sink, and the next thing she knew, she was pinned to it, trapped between his arms as he gripped the edge of the sink in both hands.
“All right now, little girl,” he growled, and her stomach both seized and sizzled, and all at once, every knot inside her suddenly relaxed. They only relaxed just a little, but it was the most relief she’d had in months. “When it comes to rough rodeos, you would not be my first ride. That’s number one. Number two, what the hell kind of librarian are you?”
“I-I—” she stammered, the knots doing tumbling acrobatics all over again. She didn’t know if it was because every breath she took right now was scented with the spice of his deodorant, aftershave or a combination of both, or if it was because of his very nearness. He was a big man. A veritable mountain of a human being, with great big hands that were right now gripping the sink behind her, and that look on his face brought her inner Little snapping to the forefront. It was completely inappropriate to let her out right now.
“No,” he said, cutting her off. “You might think Gram has told you everything you need to know, but I guarantee there are sides of me even she didn’t know and which would send you running if you did. Maybe I’ve been away too long, but asking a total stranger to have sex with you is a little more than just desperate. It’s dangerous. And rough sex?” He shook his head with an incredulous laugh. “Lady, you’re lucky we’re not in the kind of relationship where we’re having sex, because if we were, that would cost you. It would cost you big.”
Scotti froze mid-breath, her eyes widening. She didn’t realize her jaw had dropped until she had to pick it up enough to gasp, “I’m sorry, what?”
He stopped now too. One startled minute bled silently into two, before he shifted how he was leaning, although he didn’t back away. He remained looming over her, still smelling so good, still seeming so threatening. Scotti tried not to, but her nipples were tingling and her bottom was prickling, every inch of it consumed in this crazy crawling sensation that gradually moved down between her legs until, no matter how hard she tried to tighten her thighs, the tingling took root, filling her pussy with a warm flush of need.
He cleared his throat. “What?” he parroted back at her, the realization that they’d been talking about different things becoming embarrassingly clear to both of them.
“You think I was asking you to…” Her cheeks scalded hot, and then even hotter still as she realized what that also meant. “Y-you think I need t-to pay… you…”
She couldn’t even finish that.
“Something tells me I’ve just sunk this Monday to new record-setting lows,” he said.
She had no idea what he meant by that. She was still trying to wrap her mind around… “Women pay you for that? You’re that good?”
Now, it was his turn to blush, but before he could say anything, she shook herself and threw up her hands.
“I mean, no! That isn’t what I meant at all! Hell no, even! Good heavens!” She looked down at the prison of his arms and his chest, and then her gaze dipped lower, and her eyes widened when she saw the notable tent bulging at the front of his jeans. “Oh…” She spun to face the mirror and, because that didn’t help at all, quickly locked her eyes on the ceiling. “You, um… you should, I don’t know… put a little cold water on that.”
She saw it in the mirror when he looked down at himself. He jumped back from both her and the sink, as far as the little bathroom would allow him. Her stomach tingled. Her nipples did too. She wasn’t sure who she was more embarrassed for: him for misunderstanding her intentions, herself for having explained what she wanted that badly in the first place, maybe herself again for being so far below his type standards that he had to say no this emphatically, and lastly, for both of them because now it was all just so… awkward.
“Sorry,” he said, adjusting his pants.
“No, no,” she soothed, her voice a little squeaky and too high-pitched. “It’s good.”
His Daddy bits were really kind of sizeable.
Scotti closed her eyes, willing herself not to think about it. Too late. Not only was the image burned into her brain, but her tummy had gone all melty, and she wasn’t at all sure she knew how to pull herself together so she could look at him without blushing.
Clearing his throat twice, Kurt cupped his lean hips in his big hands. He regarded the floor long enough to collect himself. Then, raising his eyes to look at her in the mirror, he said, “I’d like to start over, if possible.”
Her tummy did flipflops just at the sound of his voice. She pushed on it with both hands, willing the gymnastics to stop. “Okay.”
“My name is Kurt Doyle.”
He said he liked rough sex, her brain recalled, and her face flushed several degrees hotter.
He said he liked rough sex and that doing that with him would cost me big.
“Hi, Kurt,” she said weakly, still staring at the ceiling, willing her face to cool down and her heart to stop pounding the way it was. “I’m Scotti Moore.”
“Hello, Scotti.”
