Page 64 of The Librarian and the Rock Star

I heard a strange girlish noise like a dove cooing, and realized it came from me. He pressed against me, holding me up as my knees nearly buckled. “Just whisper,” he said softly into my ear, as he nibbled my earlobe while thrusting his fingers hard and fast. Placing his thumb just above, directly on my little knot of nerves, he breathed, “Do you like this?”

“Yes... but...”

“Do you want it up and down like this...” his thumb made a vertical motion, dragging gently across my delicate skin. “Or circles like this?” The spirals radiated through my nerves and out across my hips.

“Yes, like that,” I gasped.

“Can you come standing up?”

“I don’t... know...” Then I suddenly did know. The waves were already gathering, and in about one minute I was going to be helplessly thrashing. It was too intense, and so outrageous that my body reacted this way. “Don’t stop,” I breathed, and his grin was visible even through the shadows.

“So gorgeous,” he breathed, his lips hot against mine. “Let go, baby.”

I’ve never liked it when a man called me baby, until Jack. Every time he said it something deep inside me twitched. “Oh,” I gasped, my breath hitching as I began to writhe. He was completely in control of me, and it was so perfect I couldn’t process it. My nerves were burning, overloaded. “Yes,” I gasped again. He moved his lips so that I could squeal freely, setting his teeth against my throat, biting just enough to thrill me to the core as his hand moved gradually faster.

“Say my name, baby,” he growled, then suddenly I was falling through waves of bliss – all I could see was orange, and hear his breathing in between my little squeals.

“Jack... Oh, yes, Jack...” I fell apart in his arms, trembling and moaning.

He held me close until I stopped quivering, then kissed me passionately, wet and deep. “I’ve always wanted to do that. Just never found the right girl.” He looked into my eyes with outright yearning, whispering. “You’re absolutely the right girl, Keira. In so many ways.”

“I... can’t believe you did that.”

“I sort of can’t believe you let me. Or yourself,” he said, obviously proud of me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but I feel that I should return the favor.”

He shook his head. “No way. I owed you one now, remember? That was incredible for me, don’t you worry. You’re so luscious when you relax that much. Shall we go?”

“Wait.”

He grinned that slightly crooked boyish smile. “Do you need another second to catch your breath?”

I dug in my purse and pulled out a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer, giving myself a generous dollop, then dropping some into this hand. “Handshakes with fans. Especially considering where your hand just was.”

We howled with laughter as we rubbed our palms together, but I stopped him again. Pulling out my phone, I took a series of photos of the crumbling brick at the entrance of the alley, just where the streetlight was making a few bits of chipped dark green paint glow. Jack waited patiently, out of the way and out of my light until I was finished.

“I want a visual reminder of this alley,” I admitted, and the glow in his eyes nearly burned through me.

We headed out of the alley and down the street. Switching to the social media analysis app, I let the hashtags guide us to a corner with three lively patios where people were merrily drinking.

38. Not a Groupie, Regroup

After cruising by a huge patio full of girls, photos, and promotion, Jack led us into the nearest shabby chic bar, then rushed off to get us drinks. I waited by the other end of the bar, quickly checking my phone. Until a week and a half ago, I rarely received many texts, so to have two new ones was rather strange.

Sherrie: OMG girl – saw pics of you with Jack in Montreal. Are you two really a thing now? Super excited for you! When you’re back in town, let’s hang out so that you can tell me everything! Hope you don’t mind that I told Alanna, and she sounded jealous. Ha!

Alanna: Figures. Photos of you with Jack Vegas? A friend of the band? Hardly. Looks more like the nerd girl turns out to be a groupie slut. What will your snotty academics think of you now that you’re a common groupie?

By the time Jack returned, I had read Alanna’s text fifteen times and was shaking with rage and shame and a mix of emotions I was too shocked to process. I had assumed he was getting us some wine, but he set two fancy cocktails down in front of me when he saw that I was on the verge of freaking out.

“Breathe,” he said softly, rubbing my back. “Are you okay?”

I held out the phone so he could read Alanna’s text. “Who the hell is that bitch?” he asked.

“She’s a friend of my friend Sherrie’s. They go to a lot of concerts together, so I’ve run into her many times at parties and events. She thinks I’m a snob because I don’t keep up with the reality television she’s really into.”

“So, she’s a bitch, and she’s stupid.”

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