experienced in months and months and months. Too long.
Desperate, desperately glad, he slid his hands under the fabric so they were palms to cheeks.
And with that, he was fully erect.
Sweet, sweet mercy. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and shoulder, breathing in that flowery Jane-scent, reveling in the goodness of escalating desire and a solid cock.
The notion that he hadn't, after all, lost this.
The librarian was moving into him now, her pelvis grinding against his stiff shaft, a cute little stand-up lap dance that almost had his rocket launching. But they were in a storeroom. Alone at the moment, but only because of an impromptu onion run. Still, she was eager and he was hard and who could argue against that combination?
His mouth found hers again as he tried weighing the pros and cons of taking this all the way. But his brain was sluggish, what with all the blood his erection - thank God! - was putting to its own use. The decision had to be deferred, he thought, reluctantly sliding his tongue from her mouth. If they'd been near a bed, he knew good sense wouldn't have stood a chance, but they were in that storeroom. And an onion run wouldn't last forever.
"Jane," he murmured against her cheek. "Jane, I think we'd better stop."
Her flesh was feverish against his lips. "No."
"I understand." He kissed her mouth. "But, Jane - "
She found his mouth with hers, and her small hands tightened on the sides of his shirt. Maybe it had been a long time for her too, because there was a frantic quality in the thrust of her tongue, the clutch of her hands, the rhythmic pulse of her hips against his.
Flexing his fingers on the globes of her ass, he told himself to be sensible. With a mighty effort, he tore his mouth away. "We have to stop."
"No." Her eyes closed, she rubbed against him, harder, and her lips lifted, seeking his once more.
He evaded her and firmed his voice. "Yes, Jane. I'm saying we stop."
His implacable tone finally got through to her. She froze, and then silver eyes blinked up at him. Her mouth was swollen from his kisses. And from the beginnings of a pout.
He squeezed her bare ass, knowing he would have an aching regret over this for the rest of the day. "You have places to go, remember?" Then, while she was still compliant - because, really, how long could that last? - he succumbed once again to whim and drew her panties down her legs. For a moment they ringed her ankles, a transparent confection of pale pink ruffles. Oh, sweet Jesus. Before he pulled her to the concrete floor right then and there, he hunkered down to help her step out of them.
He rose with the ruffles in his hand. "But I don't mind if you leave a little something behind."
She blinked a couple more times, clearly coming out of a sexual daze. "That's my underwear," she said, staring at the little pile of filmy stuff in his palm. Her gaze lifted to his. "Griffin, I'm going to see my father."
In a quick move he stuffed the souvenir in his front pocket, adjusting his erection at the same time. That sign of renewed life made him grin at her, unrepentant. Not only had he found his sexuality again, but he also thought he'd struck upon a way to handle the little librarian who was trying to rock his world. "Have a good time, honey-pie."
CHAPTER SEVEN
FEELING AS HARRIED and anxious as she always did at the prospect of meeting with her father, Jane hurried toward his tri-level executive home. It was boxy and officious-looking, with a flat roofline and dark-tinted windows. A short barbered hedge bordered the brick front pathway bisecting the small patch of grass meticulously cut by the housing association's gardeners to her father's exacting standards. There was a groundskeeper sweeping the bricks at this very moment - Corbett Pearson didn't allow the whine of leaf blowers within the range of his hearing.
She smiled at the gardener in passing, then reached the front door and pressed the bell. There was a house key back at her apartment, but even if she'd had it with her, she wouldn't have used it. Her father didn't appreciate such liberties.
He opened the door, and his chilly gaze swept over her. "Jane," he said. "You look a bit...feverish."
Oh, damn. She thought she'd managed to counteract her flushed state with the air-conditioning set