Falling For the Librarian – by Sorcha Mowbray #2
Or at least his face gave no hint of amusement. “See that you do so. Or there will be repercussions.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
It had been a very long time since a man touched her.
Even her husband had lost interest in her in that way years before his passing.
While she knew she wasn't unattractive at one time in her life, she had long ago ceased to think of herself in those terms. She simply was.
She breathed. She ate. She slept. She ran the store.
“Very good, Mr. Sheffield. I will come by later today after the store closes.”
“Good day, Mrs. Pennyworth.” He stared at her until she turned to walk away. Not daring to look back and see if he still watched her, she walked briskly out of the library and back the way she'd come.
She would not think about seeing him again. Not for one moment.
Richard Sheffield glanced at the clock on the wall for possibly the hundredth time that afternoon, and then out the window.
It was getting quite late—the sun was setting—and Mrs. Pennyworth had not returned as promised.
He was far too aware of her absence, considering she was one of his nuisance patrons.
A very beautiful, nuisance patron.
There were two types of patrons he'd found.
Those who came in, borrowed the books they wanted, and then returned them with little fuss.
They may ask for the occasional assistance in finding a title or a recommendation, but they were reliable.
They were pleasant even, saying hello and going about their day.
And then there were the nuisance patrons.
Those were the patrons who wished to chat as though he didn't have books to catalogue and re-shelve, or research to conduct when requested, or simply his own books to read.
And the most annoying form of those patrons were the ones who could never find their own books or failed to return their books on time.
Ever. He sighed. Mrs. Pennyworth was a prime example.
Granted, he'd impressed the library board by firmly and relentlessly collecting fines from those permanently tardy patrons, but it was tiresome work always having to bully people into paying what they owed.
But, for some reason, he found Mrs. Pennyworth less and less annoying, though he had tried hard to hide it.
His lips quirked as he repressed a grin at the memory of her reaction when he had suggested there would be worse punishment than banishment from the library.
If she had known he'd been thinking of turning her over his knee, flipping up her skirts, and paddling her bottom until it was bright pink when he’d said that, she likely would have fainted dead away.
“Good evening, Mr. Sheffield.” Mrs. Pennyworth greeted him, cutting through his salacious thoughts as though he had conjured her from thin air.
He rose from his desk, taking his accounts ledger with him. “Good evening, Mrs. Pennyworth.”
She turned her big blue eyes on him briefly before lowering them. “I've come to pay what I owe you for my tardiness.”
A pity, he'd far prefer to spank her. His cock twitched, and he found himself grateful for the cover of the circulation desk.
“Very well.” He set his ledger on the counter and opened it to the correct page.
There he looked at her accrued fines. “You have been late ten times and owe the library ten cents.”
A strand of russet colored hair fell forward as she set her purse on the counter and opened it, rooting about for the money. Then she came up with the coin and presented him with the payment. “I do hope this means I will be allowed to continue to borrow books from the library.”
“Of course. We appreciate your patronage.” His lips quirked. While he appreciated her russet hair and blue eyes, not to mention her lush, full figure, he did not appreciate her tardiness.
“Excellent. I believe I have time before the library closes, so I'll look for a book then.” Mrs. Pennyworth turned and headed into the stacks.
“We close promptly at nine. Don't make me come find you, Mrs. Pennyworth.” He watched her enticingly curvaceous form until she disappeared from view.
Taking his ledger, he returned to his desk and sat down.
He busied himself with paperwork, trying very much to ignore the feminine presence in his space.
As he sat there, his mind wandered back to his earlier thoughts.
He imagined sliding Mrs. Pennyworth off his lap and having her kneel so she could take his cock in her mouth.
Thoughts of sliding between her lips over and over had his cock stirring again.
He cursed softly and adjusted himself as he glanced at the clock.
It was nearly time to close, and no other patrons had entered the library.
Determined to not examine his desires too closely, he rose, leaving the relative safety of the circulation desk.
He then locked the front door of the library to ensure no one else came in, not that he saw many patrons this late.
Next, he headed in the direction he'd seen Mrs. Pennyworth disappear.
With only about six thousand books, it was no George Peabody Library, but Richard was proud of what he and those who came before him had curated for Los Angeles.
As he walked between the shelves, he glimpsed dark skirts and white petticoats.
Then he spotted a trim ankle as he realized Mrs. Pennyworth was perched on a ladder, attempting to reach a particular volume.
“What the hell are you doing?” He hadn't meant to bellow, but the woman had no sense of self-preservation if her present situation was any indication.
“Oh!” she yelped as she tilted wildly. Then suddenly, she was flying off the ladder.
He nearly swallowed his tongue as he leapt forward in the nick of time and snatched her out of the air.
“Mrs. Pennyworth! Are you injured?” He queried as he let her feet touch the floor, though he left his arm banded around her back, which had the delightful result of keeping her pressed against his chest.
“I’m not. Thanks to you.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide with surprise and possibly something else, if he wasn't mistaken.
Hellfire and damnation. This woman was tempting him beyond his control. “You should have sought my assistance if you wanted a book on an upper shelf.” He loosened his arm so she could step away if she chose to, and yet she remained in his arms.
As his rebuke settled between them, her eyes narrowed in annoyance and she stepped back, breaking his hold. “Excuse me, but I would have been just fine if you hadn't scared me by yelling so loudly.”
She wasn't wrong. He had likely startled her. “That may be, and I do apologize. But you had absolutely no business climbing on that ladder.”
“Ooh! I don't know what I ever found attractive about you.” She reached up and poked him in the chest as she continued. “You are an insufferable bore who is drunk on his perceived power.”
She found him attractive? That tidbit paired with the blue fire in her eyes and the flare of temper so often associated with redheads had him grinning. Unfortunately, that had the opposite effect on her than he wanted.
“Do not laugh at me. You, sir, are no gentleman.” She snarled, growing angrier by the moment.
He laughed, a deep belly chuckle. “You are correct. I am not a gentleman, though I am educated well-enough. But I have debauched enough women to know who and what I am.”
She did not appear to appreciate his sardonic humor, nor did she heed his subtle warning. His cock was half-hard from the fiery exchange as he bit back a groan. He looked at her flushed cheeks and plump lips, wondering what she might taste like.
Would she slap him if he kissed her? She should. But would she?
“Do not think to embarrass me with such talk. I am no shrinking violet.” She glared at him.
“It was a warning, Mrs. Pennyworth. I suggest you leave now if you do not wish to be kissed within an inch of your life.” His words came out as more of a growl as desire got the best of him.
He could see the thoughts whirling behind her blue eyes as she stared at him. Was she considering staying and allowing him to kiss her? He stepped forward, closing the already minimal distance between them.
“You wouldn't,” she whispered even as her gaze seemed to latch on to his lips.
“Oh, but I would.” And then he had her back in his arms as he captured her lips in a searing kiss.
He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, seeking entrance.
She gasped, and he plunged past the barrier to explore deeper.
The warm, wet heat of her breath teased his senses as their tongues tangled.
He tightened his arms around her, pressing her curves against his harder body.
On a moan, she melted against him, and he backed her into the shelves at her back.
With her pinned there, he allowed his tongue to dip and swirl, tasting her, teasing her.
Finally, he managed to gather his senses together and drew back from the kiss.
As he pulled away from her, she looked up at him, eyes glazed with the desire he had stoked with his kiss.
A sense of satisfaction slid through him, making him almost light-headed.
Leaning in to kiss her again, he was surprised by the firm press of her hand on his chest.
“Stop, please, Mr. Sheffield.” Her voice sounded shaky, unsure.
He released her and stepped back. “As you wish, Mrs. Pennyworth. If you're sure, that's what you want.”
“I am, sir. I feel it's important to tell you I am not in search of a husband.” She looked determined, despite the pink tinge to her lips, making them look even plumper than before.
He barked out a laugh. “Mrs. Pennyworth, I believe you have mistaken my interest. I wish to take you to bed, not marry you.”
She sucked in a breath, the color on her cheeks turning bright red. “You, sir, are a cad.”