“See you around.” I try and pull from his arm but he only pulls me closer.
“I-” He only says the one word then trails off. Now I’m starting to get upset. I’m not into games and especially ones that get me emotionally twisted up. This is exactly why I don’t date.
“Just let me go.” I look everywhere but at his face. I can’t meet his gaze. I want to go. Mr. Higgins was right. Men are the worst. Nick hasn’t really done anything to me but he‘s still the worst. He is messing with my insides and I don’t care for it. I think I’m more fragile than I realized. He hadn’t made me any promises and it’s not as though we are dating, so I’m not sure why I’m getting so bent out of shape over this. I’ve known him for less than a week so he shouldn’t have any effect on me.
“I tried to let go,” he growls, turning us and pushing me up against the side of the library.
“What are you-” I’m cut off when his mouth comes down onto mine. He kisses me as though he’s been starved for days. Our tongues tangle as we both explore one another. I moan into his mouth, causing him to break our kiss.
“We can’t do this,” he says as he kisses down the side of my neck.
“Why?” I ask. He doesn’t answer me. Instead he kisses me again. This time his hands dig into my hair as he pulls it down, letting it free. He tilts my head back, his tongue exploring my mouth. I whimper into his mouth, my fingers gripping his shirt as I cling to him. I get lost for a moment, forgetting about all the small questions I have. We do this until we are both breathless and there is no choice but to pull away. He drops his forehead to mine as we both try and catch our breath. My lips tingle from his kisses, as do other places on my body. I want more but my mind is playing catch up. He should never know how powerful that mouth of his is. It has the ability to make me forget about everything.
“Why?” I repeat my question. He said we can’t do this. He’s the one who kissed me. He’s the one who was following me. It’s too much of a coincidence that he had my glasses in his hand when I went back to get them. It was only a matter of minutes and the only way he would have seen them sitting there would be if he was watching me to begin with.
“I tried to stay away,” he responds after a minute when he sees that I’m not going to stop until I get an answer.
“What are you talking about?” I drop my hand from his chest, letting go of his shirt. I lick my lips. My cheeks heat at how I continue to cling to him.
“I should go,” he says but he leans down, brushing his mouth against mine, not seeming to want to go anywhere. I start to tilt my head back to kiss him again but then I remember that his mouth has the power to make me forget what I’m doing. I duck, going under his arm and out from against the wall.
“I think I should go.” I am going to be the one that ghosts him this time. He is the one who has me feeling all funny. Showing up and kissing me. Gah! He is crazy. I can’t deal with these mixed signals. At least when I thought he was a serial killer I knew where I stood with him.
Behind me I hear a slam and then my feet are in the air and I’m staring at the ground. “What are you doing?” I slam my fists against his back.
“Not into playing games either,” he growls and slaps me across the ass.
Oh crap, that felt good. I squirm on his shoulder, earning me another whack which I feel directly in my center. I clamp my legs together. Why is this happening to me? I don’t even like him.
“This is kidnapping! You can get arrested for this!” I yell.
“I’m sure your Higgins knows the police, doesn’t he?” Nick answers as he pushes the heavy oak doors of the library open and strides through like I don’t weigh a ton.
Higgins actually hates Chief Baxter because of some old fight they had over a tractor. I don’t even know exactly what that is all about but Higgins would never ask Chief Baxter for a favor. Nick doesn’t know this, though. “You’re damn right and if you don’t put me down this instant, your ass is going to land in jail.”
I swear he hesitates for a half second at least before picking up his stride into almost a slow jog. I bounce around on his shoulder, my head nearly hitting his ass a couple of times. Good Lord, he has a nice ass. I give myself a mental slap. I should not be noticing his ass. I should be struggling and then escaping. I start to wriggle, like a worm on the end of the hook, pushing at his back and kicking my legs. To my dismay—I mean, to my great joy, he puts me down.