In Reference To...
By
Savannah Jordan
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
In Reference To…
COPYRIGHT Ó 2007 by Savannah Jordan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Angela Anderson
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Edition, 2007
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
For Abby—because she asked for it. :P
In Reference To...
The chairs of the college library looked like carved pieces of oaken Hell in comparison to the cushy armchairs at my favorite bookstore. At the bookstore, I could nestle in and read for hours, a romance novel in one hand, a caramel latte in the other. Here in the Reference Section, however, my butt was numb and my mind whirred, filled with facts and dates, instead of stormy nights and torrid love affairs.
I anticipated a boring night. But then, the lights flickered.
A sudden clap of thunder scared me from my seat, rousing me from my study-induced stupor. My heart skipped a beat as lightning flashed and the incandescent bulbs flickered again.
Well, at least I get a stormy night.
But what about the torrid love affair?
Sullen, I settled back down to my pile of dusty tomes and blank note cards. Outside, the storm raged, rain pelted the windows, and then a door slammed, echoing through the library’s stone and plaster interior. No one slammed the door to the library-it was an unwritten rule-and that immediately piqued my interest. I stepped to the banister railing of the reference section loft and looked down into the foyer.
A soaked stranger stood on the rubber mat, his clingy jeans accentuating a pelvis I could read like brail. A yellow rain slicker disguised his body, but when his hood slipped back, it revealed a handsome profile, strong jaw line and messy, spiked, blond hair. He was sexier than any Grecian statue. Adonis, watch out!
My breath caught. I struggled to suppress the grin spreading across my face. My night was suddenly looking up.
The newcomer took off his jacket and turned to hang it on the rack beside the door. His white tank stretched over the lustable topography of his rippled chest and abdomen. And those wet jeans clung to his rear; they might as well have been an invitation reading, “Place hands here.”
“Nice ass!”
At that, he looked up, caught sight of me and smiled. He was even cuter then. White teeth, dreamy eyes framed by sexy specs. My heart pounded, my body flushed, a blush flared my cheeks. I stepped back from the oak railing.
For a brief moment, I considered hiding in shame, but where’s the fun in that? An image of his face and sexy ass burned in my mind, and I knew I wanted more than to hide, wanted more than to just ogle his hot body.
I wanted him.
This gorgeous man was the epitome of walking sex. There was no doubt. If I got within flirting distance, the hussy within would flaunt and beg for his carnal affections.
Brazen, I walked to the banister railing, rolled my hips, hoping my saucy attitude would entice him. I locked eyes with him, watched him watching me. I turned from the banister, tossed my hair over my shoulder and pointed to my little study nook before I shook my booty, like dangling a carrot before a horse. It was an open invitation to more than just becoming a study buddy. He smiled again and moved up the main isle, toward the staircase.
Here, Boy…come and get it.
Footsteps, heavy from his chunky black boots, climbed the spiral staircase to the loft. I watched each lift of thigh, thinking of how I could saddle up and ride him like a circus pony. Lust heaved in my chest, pulsed through my blood as my heartbeat quickened and my nipples tightened in excitement.
I made my way back to my seat, all the while unbuttoning my blouse to show more of my cleavage. Just as he turned the corner of the nearest row of bookcases, I thrust my breasts upward with each breath, but played coy, gazing out of the corner of my eye. He recognized that playful glance and looked back, openly, obviously checking me out. His blue eyes roamed my body, head to toe. And then he smiled.
My heart slammed into my ribs. Straight on, I could see the sexy tilt to his come-hither grin. I blushed—how could I not? He was damned hot.
“Hi,” he said, his voice deep and husky.
“Hi, yourself.”
He pointed to a chair next to mine. “Is this seat taken?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” A pretentious pout played on my lips. “It’s reserved.”
“Ah.” He leaned closer, his pelvis slipping like a plaything along the table’s edge. “And just who holds that reservation?”
“The guy who’s man enough to make me blush.”
He reached out, ran a finger along my jaw line. His electric touch sent hot desire through me. My entire body blushed, burning with desire.
Oh my god, I want this guy!
“Then this seat must be mine.” His finger traveled along my collarbone. “Your cheeks are rather pink.”
I sighed in mock reluctance but reached down, easing my hand along the gap between his thighs. He groaned appreciatively. I looked up into his eyes and pushed the chair out for him. “Welcome to my little study nook.”
“Thanks. So, what’s my hostess’s name?”
Hostess? I don’t know about hostess, but I certainly plan on treating him to my Southern hospitality. “Shawna Morris.”
He sat, scooting the chair even closer. His fresh cologne with a hint of citrus conjured images of summer and sex on some deserted beach. I inhaled deep, greedy breaths, losing myself in the lust swirling through me, and then his voice penetrated my hedonistic haze.
“Forgive me if this seems forward—”
“Hey,” I interrupted. “Anything a sexy guy like you has to say would not offend me. I invite you to be forward.”
“Okay, then.” He smiled and leaned closer, allowing his hand to brush my arm. The simple, seductive touch sent tingles throughout. “I won’t ask you if you come here often, because I know that you do.”
“Oh, you do?” I batted my eyelashes and arched my back so that my breasts met his fingers. He moved those fingertips lightly, teasing my nipples, building the fires within.
“I’ve been watching you.” He dropped a hand onto my lap, but his eyes locked on mine, studying my reaction. “Wanting to meet you, wanting to…”
His sexy smile returned as I eased my thighs apart. I looked from his hand to his eyes, silently pleading with him to take this game further. I could hardly stand the distance. I would have flipped up my plaid skirt and climbed atop his lap if he would only slide that chair back. But I played hard-to-get, enjoying his demonstration of intent.
“Really?” I asked. “Wanting what exactly?”
His answer, his desire, was evident. His craving came across in tangible waves. But in response, the daring devil slipped his fingers under the hem of my skirt and kissed me. Any remaining reservations melted in that first contact. His kiss was so hot I wrapped my hands around the small of his back, pulling him tighter. The deeper the kiss, the higher his fingers slid up my thigh.
His lips were firm,
insistent, as they pressed mine apart. Yet his fingers were more intrepid, teasing the hidden lips of my crease. His finger and his tongue moved in unison as his tongue probed and stroked mine. Breathless and eager, I surrendered, but he pulled back.
“My name is Adam,” he whispered. “I am—”
“A wicked, wicked man,” I interrupted. “I don’t need to know any thing more.”
I looked over my shoulder, grateful no one watched. Tangling my fingers in his blond hair, I pulled him back toward me, kissing him fiercely. I took his hand in mine, guiding his fingers to my breast. He groaned, kissing me harder, but then leaned away again.
“You are going to get us caught,” his voice suppressed and husky, his fingers still rubbing across my cotton-clad nipple.
“I don’t care.” I kissed him, nipped his bottom lip. “It’s my senior year here. I’m done after this semester.”
The tingles buzzing through me were hard to contain, and I bit my lip as I pondered our predicament. I wanted him. He wanted me—one look at the bulge beneath his zipper told me that.
A light switched on in my mind. I knew of a place where we could learn everything we wanted to know about the other and never leave the Reference Section. I loosened my grip on his hair, sliding my hand down his arm as I stood. His hand clasped in mine, I lead Adam up a flight of stairs to the only restricted room in the library.
“I never knew this room was here,” Adam said.
I pulled a pin from my hair, letting it tumble past my shoulders. He blinked, as though collecting his wits, and then ran his fingers through my hair. “All this time, and I’ve never seen you with your hair down. Damn, you’re beautiful.”
Beautiful? Maybe...maybe not—but definitely naughty!
I only smiled as I jimmied the lock with my bobby pin. The door swung inward with a wheeze of dust. I reached down, hooked a finger through his belt loop and lead him into the darkness behind me.
The book light from my backpack served as the only light source, so I propped it atop an art nouveau end table. The room was cluttered with projectors and odd pieces of furniture covered with plastic tarps. There was only one bookshelf, and the shelves were nearly bare. Some titles were thought-provoking and others, spines stiff and unused, were very sexual in nature.
Adam wrapped me in a sweltering embrace, releasing his pent desires. No more games, no coy flirtations, nothing else mattered but our passion. He exhaled, and I inhaled that breath, touching, tasting every exposed inch.
“Gods,” he groaned aloud. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”
“No, but now you can show me.”
“I intend to.” He pointed to a Kama Sutra title. “Do you want to try that?”
“Do I ever.”
Adam was ready to oblige, a decadent demon bent on my corruption. My body became a burnt offering in the heat of his ardor.
His eyes cast an eager light in the shadowed room. He grabbed the placket of my blouse, ripping off the remaining buttons, and pulled me tight against him, his arms hard on my back as he kissed my exposed skin. Our entangled bodies struck the bookcase, causing the Kama Sutra title to fall. He paused, flipping a few pages before he found a position to replicate, and then added to it by biting my neck, his lips strong but his teeth gentle against my skin. Tingles of bliss enveloped me. Coupled in the pleasure of his bite and his hands on my breasts, I moaned.
With wicked speed, Adam striped the remainder of my clothes. He smiled again, his crooked grin enflamed the hunger that smoldered within me. He was so aggressive it was almost scary-but I liked it.
I caught my breath as he came in again. He bent down to envelope my nipple in the stinging caress of his tongue and teeth. His fingers stroked from my abdomen to my thighs. He slipped a hand between, and I trembled in anticipation. Adam’s fingers found the folds of my hot, throbbing pussy. He touched. He teased. He gave me a taste of the ecstasy yet to come.
My eyes rolled, half closed, and tilted toward the ceiling as I moaned. I dug my fingers into his sculpted shoulders as I struggled to stay upright, struggled to control the passions consuming me.
Adam winced a little as my hands came away; red tracks laced across his skin.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry-I like that.” He smiled, and then guided my fingernail on a light and teasing path along his bottom lip. “This kitten’s got claws. Now, I am going to make her purr.”
At his mercy, I leaned against the bookcases, my legs quaking. Adam pulled off his tank, exposing his chiseled abdominals. I reached out to touch him, but he took my hand and guided my fingers to the fly of his jeans. I fondled his cock before liberating it from the cage of dark denim. Evidence of his masculine arousal stood firm and ready.
“Meow,” I purred. “I like that.”
Adam gave me another crooked grin as he fumbled for his wallet.
“What are you doing?” I panted.
“Looking for a condom.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I cooed. “I’m on the pill.”
“Well, in that case…” He scooped up my trembling knees and held me against him as he turned and lifted the tarp from a near by divan. It was an art deco styled piece, mimicking the outline of a human body in repose.
The velvet cushions crushed beneath us as Adam pressed me back against the corner, his mouth on mine, our bodies intertwined like a piece of Grecian art. My hips rose to meet his, and I guided the round head of his dick into my silken heat. I reveled in the pressure of his hard shaft against my sensitive inner walls, the way it throbbed with his heartbeat. I ground against him, savoring every inch, sliding along his length.
Adam shuddered, curling his fingers into the fringe of the sofa’s arm. “Oh gods.”
“Goddess,” I corrected.
Taking advantage of his moment of weakness, I turned his body beneath mine. Adam lay there, muscles taut, anticipating. I straddled his pelvis like a leather saddle, his shaft hard, the veins raised and pumping so that I could feel them within. His eyes closed as he surrendered to the passion. I rode him like a prize stallion, his hips bucking beneath me like a racing charger.
He trembled and panted beneath me, nearing a climax that I would not allow. Yet.
With a sudden movement, I braced my toes atop of his thighs and lifted my hips. He shook his head, but I pulled my cunt off his shaft in a long, slow pull. He pouted, his bottom lip stuck out, but I smiled, shaking my head. “No one comes until I do.”
He laughed, a naughty noise in the close quarters of the library’s restricted section. “How do you want it?”
“On your knees, boy.”
I slid off his sweat-slippery body, and he rolled off the sofa so that I could lie on my back. Adam knelt between my knees, his cock aimed at my pussy like a compass pointing North. I wrapped my fingers around his rigid shaft and pulled him close enough to touch its hard tip against my wet nether lips.
“Mmm,” he purred. “Yes, my Goddess.”
Adam crouched over me, a predator, and I was his prey. I watched as he took control, wrapping his fingers around mine where they circled his shaft and then guided the tip to rub against my clit. I closed my eyes and panted, riding the waves of pleasure. When he penetrated my cunt with every tumescent inch he had, breath caught in my throat, making me moan. His hips rocked in a sensual rhythm, his cock filled my inner walls, his head sliding over that mythic G spot, pushing me closer to orgasm. He levered his body on one arm to glide a hand between us. His fingers found and tantalized my petite point of passion. A shuddering wave washed through me as ecstasy threatened. I was so close, my entire body ached, begged for an orgasm.
“Do that again,” I pleaded.
“This?” Adam repeated the motion that had driven pleasure so deep within me.
Panting now, I couldn’t answer, couldn’t speak. Once more, and I would be awash in erotic bliss. Then Adam intensified my ultimate ecstasy as he took my nipple into his mouth, coupling that stinging sensation with my t
hrobbing pleasure. His fingers and turgid cock brought me to an orgasm that tightened my scalp, curled my toes and caused me to cry out.
“Shh,” Adam whispered.
Too late.
Almost instantly, we heard footsteps stomping through the foyer in our direction. Adam’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in disappointment at the ill-timed coitus interruptus. He withdrew from my pussy, leaving a hollow feeling in his absence. We both pouted, but then our ardor turned to laughter as we scrambled back into our clothing.
Adam threw my shirt to me. “Sorry about the buttons,” he said as he struggled to stuff his erection into jeans that had suddenly become too small.
“No worries.” I pointed to the head of his cock, which refused to return to the cage of his zipper. “Sorry about the tight jeans.”
I snickered. And then he smiled, too, a loony, this-is-too-funny expression. I pulled the blouse back on, buttoned the cleavage and knotted the rest beneath my breasts. With a bit of struggle, the skirt came over my knees, and I bent over to put my socks back on. Adam smacked me soundly on the ass, and I had to stifle a shocked cry.
I spun around. “What the hell was that for?”
“You owe me one,” was all he managed before the footfalls thundered in the Reference Section below us.
I grabbed the door handle, but he stopped me, pressing the door shut as he buried his lips against mine in one last desperate kiss. He groaned as I ran a hand down his chest before I pushed him back and opened the door. We hurried down the spiral staircase toward my table.
The librarian met us at the bottom of the stairs. Because Adam’s pants were bulging and both of us were soaked in sweat, disheveled and blushing, she peered down her nose, then looked over Adam before she snorted and snarled beneath her breath. “I believe it is time for you both to leave.”
Fraulein Fun-Wrecker stood tapping her foot as we gathered our things. Neither Adam nor I could exchange phone numbers, addresses, not even a soft spoken sweet-nothing. If either of us opened our mouths to speak, she stifled us with a sharp hiss.
In Reference To Page 1