Mister O

“Would you be so kind as to do that for me?” she asks, batting her eyelashes.

So naughty. So playful. So damn sexy.

I tug her skirt to her hips then hold out a hand, watching as she stands on the chair, her legs and ass on display. She’s wearing a fucking thong.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, and I can’t help myself. I’m nearly at face level with this gorgeous ass, so I bend and bite her cheek as she shelves the book. I groan and squeeze her flesh, my voice low and dirty, “The things I want to do to this ass. The things I want to do to your whole fucking body.”

She trembles against my touch, gasping and breaking character—but hell, I’ve already broken it. She blinks at me, her eyes saying holy shit.

Then, she returns to the role, turning around, wagging a finger at me. “No touching permitted in the public shelves. That’s only allowed in the quiet corner of the library, and only if you show the librarian”—she trails off as she bends down, cups a hand around my ear, and whispers hotly—“your long, thick cock.”

This woman.

Wildfire twists in my veins, torching me. I’m up in flames, hard as steel, and aching to have her. In seconds, I strip to nothing, loving the way her eyes slide over my naked body, my chest, my arms, my abs, my dick. I drag a fist down my length, swipe my thumb across the head and the drop of my arousal there, and then press that thumb between her red lips. She sucks off a taste of me and moans headily around my finger.

I grab her hips, lift her off the chair, and set her on the floor. Then I park myself on the seat and nod at the condom on the coffee table. “This is the quiet corner of the library until you start making those wild, sexy sounds.”

She grabs the packet and returns to me, opening it. As she takes it out, I yank down her panties, and lust seizes me as I catch my first glimpse of her *. So slick, and silky, and shimmering with evidence of her desire. She runs her hand over my dick, a purr of approval escaping her lips as she feels how hard I am for her.

“Nick, you need to show me how to put it on you,” she says in a voice that’s quiet, but full of heat.

Not gonna lie. I love that she’s no expert in this. I take the condom from her, making sure it’s going on the right way. “Pinch the tip,” I tell her, and she nods and does as told.

“Now roll it down,” I say, and with a small grin, she does the job.

I point to my hard-on and give her an order. “Now get the fuck on my dick.” She shivers and then straddles me and sinks down in one smooth motion.

“Jesus Christ, Harper.” A shudder wracks my body as she rises up on me, then strokes back. “You turn me on so much,” I mutter, in the understatement of the century.

“Just like you do to me,” she says on a gasp as she rides my shaft, her hands curling tightly over my shoulders. She’s fully dressed except for her panties, and I’m completely naked, and I love the power exchange.

“So fucking hot. My sexy librarian is so fucking hot,” I say.

“Why is this your fantasy?”

I can’t think straight. Can’t answer with any intelligence. But I don’t need to when the answer is elementary. “Don’t know. It just is.”

I drop my hands to her bare ass, squeezing and drawing out a series of quick little gasps. “Why do you like it when I touch your ass?”

“I don’t know,” she answers with a broken breath. “I just do.”

Just like. Just is. Just do. That’s what we are. We are electric, and it’s just that way. I bring my hands to her face and cup her cheeks. “Let down your hair for me.”

She reaches up and unclips those red strands. They spill down her back in a soft tangle, and I thread a hand through them, my other hand gripping her hip as she moves on me. When I sense her getting closer, I grasp her harder, guiding her up and down, controlling her moves, watching her face contort in exquisite pleasure.

Her back arches, bowing into me, and then she cries out, a wild, long, intense moan that goes on forever. Grabbing her hair hard and twisting it in my fist, I fuck her through her climax, burying myself in her until my whole body quakes as I come undone, too.

Her arms grip me, her lips kiss my face, her hands hold me tight, and I don’t want this to stop, I don’t want it to end. I want Harper to want me this same wild and crazy way, like she can’t get enough of me. Because, hell, it’s become that way for me.

It just has.





29





Gino holds a glass of champagne high and beams. “To the creator of the most popular show on late-night TV.”

A sea of shiny, sparkly network executives, agents, advertisers, and other glitterati in the business of showbiz clap and join in the hear, hears.

I give a quick wave to the crowd. Gino grabs my arm and holds it up, like he’s a coach and I’m his prize fighter in the ring. “This man is going places,” Gino adds. “His show is going to be the biggest hit on all of TV soon. Just you wait.”