#Babymachine (Baby Crazy 1)

But it gets old. I’ve been the king for a while now. And let’s face it. I’m a single guy, and there aren’t that many places to spend the moolah. How many five star dinners can you have? How many closets full of expensive suits? How many penthouse apartments? So yeah, my bank account was full to the brim, my brain like lead most days.

But there was a light on the horizon. That sweet little librarian downstairs. What was her name again?

Beth. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

It had nothing to do with her clothes because God knew those frumpy, brown polyester blends didn’t make the best of her assets. If she put on something with more color, something tighter and short, there’d be a stampede down to the library to check out books. And other things. I clenched my teeth. Maybe she shouldn’t change the frumpy clothes then. Nobody should see her but me.

Wait.

What was I thinking?

I just met this chick.

Snorting, my eyes rolled towards the ceiling.

But still. The thought of some other guy looking at her made me feel a little psycho. She was so sexy with her thick body and shy looks that I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I’ve always liked bigger girls, but never the shy ones. Usually, I like a girl who knows she’s hot with a bug up her ass.

But this librarian. She was as sweet as a piece of peppermint candy ready to melt all over your tongue.

What was her name again?

That’s right.

Beth.

The question is, was she a virgin piece of candy?

God, I wanted to find out.

The fidget spinner spun aimlessly in my hand again, its edges blurring.

Beth would be perfect for my fuck book if she still had her cherry. A sweet, whole cherry, ready to be popped.

But the voice in my head spoke unbidden. Don’t do this, it said. She doesn’t deserve it. No female does. Ignoring it, I levered myself to my feet. I wasn’t going to win the fuck book contest by sitting on my ass and dreaming about virgins. I needed to go find one. Or at least talk to this gorgeous girl downstairs.

Because she had to be untouched. Right?

Her shyness, that vulnerability indicated she was innocent.

I had to find out.

Whistling tunelessly, my feet carried me to the elevator.

The doors hissed shut, re-opening in the luxe quarters of the library.

But this time, Beth wasn’t at her desk. My head spun. Where was she? In front of her chair, a book sat, a wet, glistening orchid on its cover. Was she into gardening? Not a question I really wanted answered. What I wanted was the girl herself, not some flower.

I went to hunt my Beth down. The space was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. I should appreciate it more. My day-to-day life was all about speed and noise and having it all. The Players Club. The tricked out Tesla in the garage. The high dollar sound system that blasted music as loud as it would go to distract me from the nothingness of my life.

God, maybe this silence was getting to me already. It was giving me too much of a chance to think. And maybe I should. But the thoughts screeched to a halt then because ah, there she was.

Beth.

Bent over, looking at something on a lower shelf with her ass tilted up in the air. What a picture she made. That big butt and tiny waist, thick thighs just peeking out from the bottom of her dress. It was another boring skirt and blouse combination, navy blue this time. But even that didn’t distract from her luscious body.

Damn, she looked tempting and absolutely good enough to eat. She probably wouldn’t like it if I lifted that ugly skirt of hers and touched her thick ass, yanked her panties to the side and rubbed my needy dick against her cunt.

No, probably not.

But my cock sure wouldn’t mind. It twitched in my pants, ready for lift-off. Okay, priorities. Daytime fantasies were not the reason I was down here. I needed to stay on task.

After taking another moment to appreciate Beth’s assets, I cleared my throat. The girl jumped up and turned around with a startled squeak. My eyebrows raised, amused.

“Hi. It’s you again.”

Her voice trailed off into silence. But female interest rang loud and clear in the room. Oh yeah, you could read the signals from a million miles away. The bright eyes. The heaving breasts, and the way that pink tongue flickered out to swipe at her lips quickly.

Oh yeah, she wanted me.

Again, thank God for three-piece suits and how the jacket covered my growing stiffness. Still, I stuck my hands in my pockets and smiled casually.

“Glad I found you,” came my low growl. “My research on virgins still has a long way to go. That’s why I’m here again.”