Sext with me lets talk a.., p.14
Sext with Me (Let's Talk About Sext), page 14
“Was that the emergency?” He teased a hand along her jawbone.
“Mm-hmmm.” Speech was failing.
Maxwell stiffened against her, his hand leaving her waist to take up the magazine splayed open on her desk.
“You’ve been reading my periodicals.” He brushed kisses along her neck and dropped the magazine on the floor.
Talia moaned. “That’s dirty librarian talk,” she teased.
Maxwell looked over his shoulder toward the door.
“Have you closed up for the day?”
“Yes.” Talia barely got the word out before he was leading her down an aisle to the back room of the special collections. The room that housed seldom-reviewed books and offered privacy from anyone who might be trying to make an after-hours checkout.
Once he was certain they had every degree of privacy they possibly could, he tugged on her hand and spun her into his arms—where his lips were waiting for hers. And, god, they felt like everything.
Enough to wash away any doubts she had over her growing feelings for him. Because if a man’s kiss was capable of generating such a reaction, she would be an absolute fool to convince herself it meant nothing. Were they really going to do this? Up against the stacks. In her very own library. The acoustics of which would fill her ears forever.
When Maxwell’s hands traveled quickly and deftly to free them both from the unwanted binds of clothing, she knew the answer was a resounding yes. But it wasn’t the kind of gently-laid-over-a-couch kind of love he made to her.
It was quick, needy, and hot.
Pulling away only what he must to get the job done, he kept his pants at his hips, spun her around, and after slipping his erection beneath the folds of her simple dress, let the rest of it fall around them. If anyone walked in, they would jerk away, and she would be spared the embarrassment of exposure. His blazer would cover him.
The risk turned up the reward about a million degrees.
She threw her hips back, begging him to put her out of her misery.
Pressed against a shoulder-height bookshelf, Maxwell covered her, pushing her hair aside and tracing kisses along the pale skin of her neck. His other hand snaked around front, teasing over her breast and tugging at the flimsy bra beneath. When his foot found its way to the inside of hers and nudged it wider, she could barely contain the shaking of her breath.
Again, a hand disappeared under her dress. Caressing the curve of her ass, it slid down and pulled her panties out of the way. He continued lower, following the line of her cheek down to the center of her and stretching the delicate material to its limits. His fingers slipped in. Talia didn’t need any help. She had been fighting her urges ever since she pressed Send.
A satisfied noise grunted out of him when his fingers slipped deep inside with zero resistance. And just to prove to him how ready she was, Talia lifted her foot to the lower shelf, bracing against it and pushing her ass further into his crotch. The tip of his erection left a damp spot on her inner thigh. One of his hands left her. He pulled away. The sound of ripping foil broke their silence. Seconds later he was back. Easing into her with a pace so slow it wrecked her.
She took her bottom lip in her teeth, sinking them into the pillowy flesh until she couldn’t stand it. Anything to keep herself from lifting Maxwell’s name to the rafters. She whimpered and tasted a hint of her own blood.
People were still in the main library. They had to be quiet.
“Shhh…” Maxwell soothed into her ear, his palm splayed flat against her lower abdomen, holding her in place. “Are you okay?”
Talia nodded, taking a few deep breaths in the interval he paused to let her catch herself.
“Talia,” he whispered into her ear as his rhythm slowly picked up again. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you. You seem so sweet. So innocent. But I knew the look in your eyes. I know what hides behind your innocence.” Maxwell gently fisted the hair right beside her ear, tugging it until the dip of her neck curved back and bared itself to him. “There’s something naughty inside. And it wants out.” His rhythm was picking up.
Again, Talia nodded, the motion hindered by his grip.
“I crave the way you come alive for me. I love the way you blossom. I get off on knowing that I’m the only one who makes your petals spread so wide.”
All this was a whisper, right beside her ear. Alternating biting kisses and gentle words as he moved inside her, Talia was awash in everything she ever wanted. A man who understood her. A man who saw her. A man who craved her.
She reached back, grasping for his head and turning to him, barely able to catch his lips as they rocked against the books. Shelves bit into her hips. Maxwell’s motion increased, their bodies softly slapping together as perspiration dampened their skin.
And then, she stood on the edge of more. Looking over a cliff, knowing what was coming, she turned her head forward. Her teeth found wood, and because she didn’t dare let a sound of what was happening inside of her escape, she bit down and took every inch he had until she went limp in his arms. He finished behind her, falling forward and bracing on the bookcase beside her.
“Oh my gosh.” She was horrified when she looked down and found her teeth marks cutting deeply into the bookcase shelf.
Maxwell wiped over the marks. A throaty chuckle escaped him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more perfect than your dental impression in oak. This is officially my favorite spot on campus.”
“Our own little memorial so we never forget what we just did?” It was joke that caught in her throat.
Oh, shit. Would she need to fill out a damage report? It was her first thought. She was in charge of managing the room that housed the special collections, too.
“I could never forget you, Talia.” The voice at the nape of her neck was soft and unguarded.
Any worry was quickly forgotten.
Spinning in his arms, she came to rest with her back against the gashes. His body pinning her to the wood. His breath ragged. His look haunted. His lips on hers. A kiss that was deep but halting. Pulling away, his mouth opened. His eyes scanned her face. Panic pinched the corners of his eyes. And then the hand that rested at the side of her neck guided her head to his shoulder.
Silently, he held her. Rigid except for the hand that held her head.
Talia had never experienced an embrace that felt so conflicted. Was it possible Maxwell didn’t know what to do post-coitus when sex meant something to him? Had sex ever meant anything to him? Did that mean she did?
No. That was not a road she could go down. They weren’t there yet. They’d done this twice. It wasn’t possible.
“I’m starving,” Talia said when she’d collected her thoughts and could breathe again.
Nodding, Maxwell lifted her dress just far enough to put everything back in order. Because she was currently numb and too distracted to realize her panties were still hitched over to one ass cheek, she would’ve walked out of the library like that had it not been for him.
“Pizza, my place?” Maxwell bit his grin, running a finger over the marks she’d left. “I have a dresser that’s about this height.” He playfully measured it against his chest. “It’s missing a little…something. I’d love for you to help me fix it.”
Talia landed her elbow in his stomach, causing him to collapse around it, like she could actually hurt him. Whatever. She rolled her eyes. If his endorphin load was as high as hers, he was bulletproof.
“Let me text Gran to let her know I’ll be late.”
Talia grabbed her phone from her bag, turning off her computer and following Maxwell out to the door.
When the message app opened, a handful of conversations came into view. At the very bottom was a number she’d never bothered to save but knew by heart. She paused.
Her life lingered on a threshold. Maxwell lay in front of her. This mystery man behind. The realization made her wonder. If it weren’t for an errant text sext, would she have found the nerve to pursue things with Maxwell?
She knew the answer. There was something owed to this guy. Whoever he was. But what?
“Are you coming?” Maxwell interrupted her train of thought.
“Mm-hmm,” she answered, and tucked the phone away.
They exited the library through a side door. Maxwell held it open, and when Talia walked through, he scooped up her hand into his. Awkward at first, their fingers worked together until they fell into place, intertwined, and found a rhythm as they walked.
Such a small thing. But somehow, with him, it felt like everything. They were in public. Prying eyes everywhere.
He didn’t let go.
Not until he opened his car’s passenger door. They were dangerous, the feelings blossoming inside her. But time worrying about that would’ve been wasted.
All she wanted was more.
Chapter 23
Maxwell
“Talia, will you grab my phone? I can finish this while we wait on the pizza.” Maxwell sighed helplessly from the floor. Kneeling amid a pile of clothes in his mother’s guest bedroom. The same place he’d been since he’d picked his mother up out of the pile after her knees gave out. Which was shortly after he’d received a panicked call from her saying she was “stuck” and abruptly hung up.
“Maximillian, that is not winter-weight material. My knee feels better. I can finish. I’ll make quicker work of my mess.” Mrs. Radclyffe gripped the arms of her chair to stand.
“No, Mother. If you get back down here you’ll get stuck again and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Sort through these. Tell me what to hang.” Maxwell put an armful of tops into her lap. Knee replacements couldn’t do work like this. What was she thinking, emptying out the entire closet?
Behind him, Talia giggled and held out another hanger. At least she was finding humor in the situation.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Maximillian?” Talia whispered, after glancing over to be sure Mrs. Radclyffe wasn’t listening.
“Don’t start. It’s my father’s name. I prefer Maxwell.” His brows cut low over his eyes, daring her to tease him again or share his dirty little secret.
She chuckled and tidied the hangers.
“My phone?” he reminded her.
“Oh, right!” She scanned the room. “Where is it?”
“Probably in my blazer pocket. It’s hanging by the front door. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. You’re starving, and here we are reorganizing my mother’s closet.” He cast a frown his mother’s way. Patience was getting harder and harder to find. She should’ve waited.
Mrs. Radclyffe looked up, confusion melting down her face before pulling into guilt. A small hand rose to cover her mouth.
“Don’t be silly.” Talia shook her head. “I completely understand, Mrs. Radclyffe. The weather is changing quickly. I plan to pull out my sweaters this weekend. Priorities.” Talia’s tone and warm smile reassured her. The hand fell away from her lips and she turned back to the sweaters in her lap.
“This is a nice transition piece. Don’t you think?” His mother held up a cardigan for inspection. Maxwell started to answer. Then stopped. It was Talia’s opinion his mother wanted.
“Yes, I do.” Encouraged, Talia took the cardigan and hooked it over a hanger. “You have some beautiful things. That blue dress you gave me is exquisite. I hope I have somewhere to wear it.”
“I spent a lifetime collecting,” Mrs. Radclyffe said. “They don’t make clothes like they used to.”
“Amen to that. I don’t even bother with the malls anymore.”
“Where do you shop?”
“Thrift stores mostly. I’m handy with a needle. And I’m so short everything has to be altered anyway. The old fabrics hold up better.”
His mother made a small sound in the back of her throat.
“I like her.”
For his mother, it was an afterthought. For him, it sent hot chills racing through him. Mother’s approval? He couldn’t think about that right now.
He turned toward Talia, not knowing what to say because she had certainly heard. He found nothing but her back exiting the room. Apparently, she didn’t want to think about it, either.
“I found two.” Talia held up her hand when she reentered, showing off her find.
“Oh, the Spider-Man one. That’s the personal line.” Maxwell pushed off his knees and stood, aligning his back with a bit of effort. Yes, Mother would be bedbound if she finished the pile.
“Spider-Man?” Talia questioned, teasing the phone away when he reached for it.
“I’ll gladly explain my superhero theories.” He grabbed the phone away and popped her on the bottom. “Later.” His voice was a teasing whisper, and it had the sobering effect on her he wanted it to. Yes, he had lots of plans for her. Later.
He was in the hallway for maybe two minutes to place the order. When he walked back into the room, Talia was sitting cross-legged in the pile of clothes, laughing with his mother as if they were longtime friends.
“Men never know their materials. Linen after Labor Day was a sin back in my day.” Mother brought a hand to her chest dramatically. “Wouldn’t be caught dead in it.”
It was Talia’s smile that grabbed him by the chest and pulled him further into the room. The need drawing him forward as vital as breath. Was this how it started? Finding someone he wanted to befriend as much as he wanted to fuck? He swallowed the thought. Later.
“Maximillian, we’ve decided I’m taking over.” Talia’s smile drew into tightly pursed lips. Those lips. She was enjoying the name way too much. He’d have to talk to Mom about that. Again.
“Well, good. They’re too busy to deliver the pizza right now anyway. Do you two mind if I go pick it up? It’s just a few blocks away.”
“Sure. I’m fine.” Talia turned to his mother. “Is that okay with you?”
“Of course.” His mother nodded and turned to him. “We’ll have this done before you get back.”
They went back to chatting.
Slowly, he backed out of the room. Engrossed, discussing the sorry excuse for clothes available in today’s stores, neither woman bothered to say goodbye. If they noticed his exit at all.
Letting Talia in was intimidating. He was taking it one step at a time.
But becoming bosom buddies with Mom?
That was another level. One that required a freakin’ leap.
No one had ever come to his mother’s house before. No one had ever been invited. With Talia, he’d never questioned it. It just…happened. Organically. And now that she was here, it seemed like she belonged.
That reality wasn’t intimidating,
It was terrifying.
Chapter 24
Talia
DORIS: Just thought of something—Does this mean you’re M’s date for the gala???
Talia swallowed, eased a breath slowly between her lips, and read the text again.
Did it mean she was his date? Her brain wasn’t that far ahead.
TALIA: I’m not sure.
DORIS: But you’re going. Right?
TALIA: I think it’s assumed I will.
Talia leaned into the outside of the bathroom door, getting her ear close enough to be sure there weren’t any strange sounds on the other side. Unsure of how independent Mrs. Radclyffe was, she didn’t want to get too far away from the bathroom. Her knee could give out again. Water was running. That was probably hands being washed.
Talia stepped away and leaned against the wall.
DORIS: OMG. We REALLY need to talk about this. So. Many. Thoughts. Hair? Outfit?
Sweat seeped through the pores at the nape of Talia’s neck. If Doris started running her mouth, she’d kill her. Sharing with a friend was beginning to seem like a big mistake.
TALIA: Can we do this later?
Doris’s game of twenty questions wasn’t doing much for her nerves. The toilet flushed on the other side of the door.
DORIS: Are you waxed? Like all the way?
What kind of question was that? Her best friend should know her well enough to know that she was not waxed. All the way.
She was about to tell her that. But stopped before her finger started typing. Doris knew a lot of things that Talia didn’t.
Should she be waxed?
All the way?
Exactly how far was all the way?
TALIA: No
Not that it was any of Doris’s business.
DORIS: then we should probably get you to Brazil, too. I bet M’s kinky enough to appreciate a bare butthole…
Talia wasn’t sure which was worse—assuming the state of her butthole mattered to Maxwell or that buttholes, in general, mattered to Maxwell. Was that really what people thought of him?
The dampness spread down Talia’s neck to the top of her spine.
Before she could think of a reply, the bathroom door swung open.
“Hey!” Nerves made Talia’s tone much higher and louder than normal. Texting about butthole waxing naturally put her on edge.
She regretted it the instant she said it.
Poor Mrs. Radclyffe spun around, one hand at her throat, the other raised defensively. Her eyes went wild and wide.
“I’m so sorry.” Talia held out her hand, knowing she would likely need assistance to get back to her chair like she had to get out of it. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Mrs. Radclyffe didn’t take her hand. She stepped back onto the tile floor. Turned away and shrunk as far from Talia as the doorway would allow.
