This Fearless Girl (St. Clary's University #2) - E. M. Moore Page 0,22

legs, fingers flexing into my skin. I can barely hear him over my soft cries, but he growls out, “Mine.”

Another spike jolts through me, and my pussy clenches again and again.

Slowly, he stands and lets me slide to my feet before pushing me against the radiator, his cheek brushing against mine. He bites down on my earlobe, giving it a quick tug between his teeth. “Our Wild Girl.”

My knees are so weak I almost fall to the floor. Lucas Govern can take control of me anytime he wants.

8

Once my clothes are back on and my heart calms down enough, I show Lucas where I hid the safe. I bend over again, this time angling my ass away from him. Not that I would mind going for round two, but we do have some pressing concerns to get to.

I use my fingernail to dislodge the bottom board that separates the last bookshelf from the cement floor. Lucas’s eyes widen as I pull the tin, cylindrical canister out. It’s less than a foot long and only about four or five inches in diameter. It’s also pretty beat to shit. I’m not exactly sure how long it’s been in my family, but I do know my father wasn’t the one who buried it near that tree in our yard. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the first time this safe has been somewhere else.

Lucas crouches next to me. “I have to admit, I was confused as to where you found a place in here. I kept thinking ceiling tiles or closets. This is genius.”

I stand, gripping the tin in my hands before nudging the board back into place so it looks exactly like it was before. “I found this on accident one day. I was in here browsing the shelves, my foot accidentally kicked this board, and it dropped open. I immediately looked, like maybe someone else had found this very same thing and hidden something in there.” The alley cat boy grins at me, reaching out to place a curl behind my ear. My cheeks heat. “There was nothing but dust bunnies.” I look around the room, admiring the huge wooden bookcases. “Since it looks like these shelves have been down here for a hundred years, I figured my secrets would be safe.”

Lucas leans over to kiss the corner of my lips. His soft touch makes my skin buzz. After he pulls away, he reaches out tentatively, staring at the safe in awe, and I don’t hesitate. I hand it over. He grins like a little boy. The kind of unabashed joy I wish we could hold onto forever. He lets out a breath. “I can’t believe I’m holding this.” He peeks up at me. “It’s crazy how much the treasure grips you. At first, it started out as something we did for Mr. Jacobs, but then it overtakes everything. It permeates your mind. It seeps into everything. And your family….” He shakes his head. “The Wilder’s are notorious.”

I smile at that, and a warmth spreads through my belly. “I didn’t think anyone who was friends with the Jacobses thought that way.”

“There was always a tether pulling us all together, Dakota. You just never wanted to see it before.”

I swallow a lump in my throat. “I’m not sure I could’ve seen it before.” My father hated the Jacobses. With good reason, obviously, but it distorted everything I ever saw through the lens of the treasure.

Lucas holds the safe with one hand and edges his other around my shoulder before pulling me to him. “I know.” He kisses the side of my head before running his fingers through my hair. His touch is soothing and captivating at the same time. “You know, the guys are going to freak when they see this.”

My stomach flips over with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Sharing my family’s secrets is a huge step. “I guess we shouldn’t wait then.”

Lucas places a more solid kiss on the side of my head before taking my hand and pulling me toward the staircase to the first floor. I giggle as we climb the steps, but it dies on my lips as soon as the librarian turns toward us with a discerning stare. Oh shit.

Lucas chuckles and tucks his chin, whispering, “She totally knows what we did down there.”

“Lucas!” I breathe.

He laughs, pulling me out the front entrance as my entire body heats in embarrassment.

“It’s not funny,” I scold. “If you’ve ruined my happy place, I’m going