the tall, silent world of a row of nearby books. I gasped sharply as he pushed me against the stacks. Then just as abruptly the breath was taken from my lungs, as he slid his magnificent body tightly against mine…
… and covered my mouth with his.
Oh my Go—
The kiss was slow, sensual, thunderous — my nostrils filling with musk and leather and steel. In the span of an instant it obliterated my entire world. Every nerve ending in my body surrendered to him, as our lips churned and his tongue pushed past my teeth to swirl against mine.
—DDDD…
In an instant I was kissing him back, reveling in the feel of being so thoroughly consumed and dominated by his presence. I was caught between the fiction section and his incredible chest. Sandwiched tightly between the thick wooden bookshelves and the even thicker bulge of his lower torso, pressing high against mine.
Our tongues danced as his hand cupped my face, ever so gently tracing the curve of my jaw. The silence between the stacks was like kissing in the dark. The greatest, most sensuous kiss ever.
And as a virgin, I knew all about kissing.
Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the whole thing was over. Senan was stepping back, letting go. He left me melted into the shelves, disorientated and breathless. My skirt still half raised on one side, where one of his hands had wandered its way up to the middle of my thigh.
“Well now you have something to think about,” he said, as he turned and left.
Seven
CHASTITY
My bed was warm, my body warmer. I was flat on my stomach. Stretched out to just the right length, my back arched at just the right angle…
I couldn’t help but sigh as my hand slipped down the flat of my belly.
Mmmmm…
I was mad. Frustrated. Upset with the roller-coaster of emotions that came with my missed opportunity and even more disappointed in myself. Once again I’d blown a good chance through my own hesitation and inaction.
But damn, I couldn’t stop thinking about Senan.
At first I tried letting go of the resentment, but then I realized it was just the tool I needed. Senan was magnificent — the hottest guy I’d ever seen. I wanted him the second I laid eyes on his profile, and even more so once he walked through the door. Even now I could feel the enormity of his body against mine. His soft yet firm lips. The taste of his tongue…
I pushed further, sliding my three fingers between my legs and pressing hard with my hand. Focusing on the anger was much more productive than letting it go. Especially because right now, more than any other time in my life, I needed to get off.
God, he felt so fucking good.
I grunted softly as the knuckles of my middle finger bumped past my clit. Already I was totally drenched. I had been since our kiss in the bookstore, and that was over two hours ago.
His arms were like steel bars, I thought to myself. And his chest… it was so hard beneath his shirt! So totally and completely—
BZZZZZT!
I lolled my head to one side of the pillow, still working myself with a tightly-pinned hand. My phone was vibrating on the nightstand — an incoming message or alert. Whoever it was could wait. In fact, whoever it was could fuck right off—
Oh shit!
With eyes that were half-lidded I saw the Venmo alert. The user name. The amount.
What the—
I bolted upright and pulled the phone from its stand-up charger. Clicking on the app, I realized immediately what had happened.
Senan had sent me my money back.
Well, not all of it. He’d returned almost his entire fee, but it was ten dollars short. Beneath the transaction was a short message:
The conversation was worth it.
Coffee’s on you, though.
I was stunned. It was a lot of money. But it was money he was entitled to, because although I hadn’t had sex with him I’d taken over an hour of his time just the same.
“I can’t believe this…”
Whatever resentment I still had drained quickly away. It was dark and cold outside and it was getting late. But wherever Senan was, he was out there thinking about me.
And not just thinking about me, but thinking enough about me that he was refunding my money?
I shook my head and set the phone down. I could call him. His number was part of his profile. I’d emailed him instead because it had felt more formal, which in retrospect was hilarious