Chapter 11
Belle
The last of the knitting club had left, and I'd straightened the lounge area, picking up trash and restocking any books that had been left out.
The front door opened, and I turned to tell whoever it was that the shop was closed, but it was Maverick.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
He flipped the sign from Open to Closed and turned the deadbolt. Then he stalked over to me, pausing when he was inches away. His fingers sifted through the strands of my hair. "I'm done resisting you."
My breath caught. "I didn't know that you were."
His expression was pained. "I've been resisting you in one way or another since we were in high school. I thought if I stood you up, there was no way you'd ever want me again. Problem solved."
I swayed toward him, not quite believing what I was hearing.
"But it didn't work. It only made me want you more. And now we're working together every day, and I can't help but watch you through the window, reading in those distracting cardigans and sexy reading glasses."
I blinked at his depiction of me. "That can't be— That's not sexy."
His eyes flashed with heat. "Then you have no idea what you're talking about."
What was happening right now? He was standing in front of me, blocking me from the view of the street. His muscles tensed as if his body was poised to do something.
"I want you, and I'm done telling myself that I can't have you," he growled.
I huffed out a laugh. "Do I get a say?"
He stepped even closer, cupping the back of my head, my body pressed against his. "Can I kiss you?"
"Yes," I barely breathed before his lips were on mine. My lips parted on a gasp, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, exploring, claiming, and ruining me for all other men.
When he pulled back, he scrutinized me.
"I want you," I assured him.
He pressed the evidence of his erection against my belly. "If you don't want me, I can walk out that door, and I'll never bother you again."
A physical ache formed in my chest at the idea of never seeing him again. But this was overwhelming. His declaration was everything I'd ever wanted to hear, but alarm bells were going off in my head.
He was the guy who'd rejected me once before.
He'd apologized, and now he was saying he'd pushed me away because he didn't think he deserved me.
But I couldn't help but think that he'd change his mind again.
He'd decide that he wasn't the man for me.
Last time, he'd decided for us, and I couldn't bear for that to happen again.
But he was standing in front of me, offering everything I'd ever wanted.
"I know you're a good girl, and you don't normally do things like this. But I want to give you something that you've never experienced with anyone else."
"Yes." It didn't matter how it happened or whether it fulfilled any fantasies.
He maneuvered us so that we were between the tall stacks, and no one could see us from the windows. "I want to make you come."
I blinked. "I want that too. Please."
"You ask so sweetly." He surrounded me, his hand tugging down my tights, tearing them in his haste, his hand moving between my thighs. I widened my stance needing everything he was offering me.
I never imagined I'd be getting fingered between the stacks, but there was a first time for everything.
"One day, I'm going to make you wear your glasses when I go down on you."
Was he planning on this being more than one time? I liked the idea of that. "Whatever you want."
"Just you. Always you," he said simply as his fingers flirted with the edge of my panties, then slipped underneath.
I whimpered when his fingers parted my folds, brushing against my clit, then teasing my entrance. It was suddenly too hot in here.
He shoved the cardigan off my shoulders and pushed up my shirt so that my bra was exposed to him. "You wear sexy things underneath these good-girl outfits."
I bit my lip, unable to respond. My hips were moving of their own accord, chasing his touch, needing to feel him inside of me. I was acting wanton. I'd never felt like this with anyone else.
His finger slid inside me as he pulled the lace cup of my bra down with the other hand. Then his mouth latched onto my nipple, and my head thunked against a row of books.
I wouldn't think about books or shelves in the same way again. Every time I stocked books on this shelf, I would remember how he'd been inside me. How I'd shamelessly rode his finger and allowed him to suck on my nipple.
"You need more." He growled and moved to my other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention. He added a second finger and hit a spot inside me that I hadn't been aware of before. The orgasm built, and I held my breath against the oncoming storm.
"Let go," he growled and pressed my clit.
I shattered into a million pieces, clamping down on his fingers, trembling with the aftershocks. He continued to move inside me until my muscles relaxed. My breath was harried as he lifted his head to look at me. He pulled up the cups of my bra and slid my panties into place.
I wanted to shout at him that I wanted more. So much more.
But his expression was guarded.
Did he already regret what he did?
Then he kissed me, pulling back to say, "There's so much more I want to do to you."
Not with me—to me. And now I was feeling all hot and bothered again. I wanted everything he was promising. "Why not now?"
"I'm trying to be the good guy here." His voice was gravelly.
I huffed out a laugh. "I've always wanted the bad boy. When are you going to realize that?"
He bit off a curse. "I'm going to do very naughty things to you. But I also want to take my time. I want to savor every second I have with you."
That answered my second question: was this a one-time thing he'd grow to regret? Had he gotten over his previous concerns that we were too different? Had something changed when he took care of me? Had he gotten to know me better and realized I wasn't the spoiled rich girl he thought I was?
"How can I argue with that?" But I really wanted to drag him upstairs to my apartment and get naked. I'd never done anything like this before, and I was craving more.
He brushed my hair out of my face. "I'm finally getting my chance with you, and I'm not doing anything to mess this up."
My breath caught at his declaration.
He pulled my cardigan over my shoulders and pushed my skirt down. Then he dropped to his knees in front of me. He tapped the side of my leg. "I can't do anything about these ripped tights."
"You don't look upset about that," I said as he slipped off my shoes and rolled the tights down my legs.
He glanced up at me, smirking. "I've been imagining ripping these tights for a long time."
My heart was racing. I wasn't sure what happened, but he was admitting that he'd liked me for a while and had been actively trying to resist me. It wasn't something a girl like me heard very often.
He wanted me. The bookshop owner. The girl who was never enough for her parents.
There were so many reasons why he'd overlook someone like me. But he hadn't.
"I'm so confused right now."
He stood, standing so close that he brushed against me. "What don't you understand?"
I swallowed hard. "What changed?"
He sighed. "My brothers convinced me I was an idiot."
I tipped my head to the side. "Isn't that how they always talk to you?"
He chuckled. "Sorry, I meant that I was an idiot when it came to you. They encouraged me to make a move. To stop denying myself what I want. I thought I could avoid you and get you out of my system. But that clearly hasn't worked."
That was the reason he'd stood me up in high school.
As nice as his words were today, I couldn't help but think that it was possible he'd retreat at some point.
He'd realize that we were too different.
Or that cardigans and reading glasses were boring, not sexy.
"You really find my reading glasses sexy? "
"Fuck yes. Have you seen yourself when you're reading to those kids?" He tugged on my cardigan. "Color coordinating cardigan, cute glasses, and I'm gone for you."
"That's not something people usually say."
"What? That you're sexy?"
"Cardigans and glasses are nerdy." Not that I'd ever cared.
"Then those guys don't know what they're talking about. I want you." He took my hand and pressed it against the front of his jeans where his dick was still hard.
"You want me to take care of that for you?" I bit my lip, considering getting on my knees right now and unzipping his jeans.
When I started to lower myself, he stopped me. "Only if you wear your glasses when you do it."
My brows furrowed. "But I don't need glasses to suck your cock."
He tipped his head back. "I can't believe you just said that."
I pulled my glasses out of my pocket and slipped them on. It made things a little blurry, but I could work with it. This was a fantasy of his after all. I was starting to realize that it was a fantasy of mine too. One where a hot guy thought I was sexy.
It was hard to believe that everything I thought made me boring was something that got him hot.
I slid to my knees before he lifted his head, and his gaze settled on me. I had his zipper down and pulled his dick out of his briefs. My hand shook as I gripped the base of his dick. I'd never been this eager to suck someone before.
I was hot all over, and as much as I wanted him inside me, I wanted to live out this particular fantasy for him. I gripped the base of his cock and licked around the head before sucking him deep.
His hand rested in the strands of my hair as if he needed assurance that I was real. He didn't put any pressure on me.
Every muscle in his body was tense as if he was holding himself back from thrusting into my mouth. I'd never let a guy do that before, but I had a feeling I would if Maverick asked.
I alternated pumping the base and sucking as much of him as I could. I looked up at him from under my lashes, seeing the tenseness in his jaw, the heat in his eyes.
He thought I was sexy on my knees for him. "I'm going to—"
I nodded my understanding, sucking harder. I wanted to swallow. I wanted to be the woman he'd been imagining, even if she was slightly more adventurous than me.
He thrust into my mouth as he roared his release. His hand slapped the shelf above my head. I swallowed everything I could and licked him clean. Then I pulled back, tucking him into his briefs and standing.
"I can't believe you just did that."
My brows furrowed again. "Isn't that what you wanted?"
He gathered me to him, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. "It was everything."
He could have said a lot of things in that moment, but telling me that sucking him on my knees was everything to him was a little unbelievable.
He nuzzled his nose in my hair. "Reading glasses.
Cardigan. And you on your knees for me. It's like a dream.
I'm going to wake up and realize that none of this was real. "
"Oh, it was real."
He squeezed me more tightly.
Whatever story he'd told himself and me was still alive in his head. He could pull away at any time and tell me that we weren't right for each other. But a small part of me hoped for a different outcome. One where he wanted me forever.
That was crazy. Crazier than me getting on my knees for him inside my bookstore. Anyone could have seen us or knocked on the door. It had been thrilling but in reality, no one could see us between the tall stacks. He'd protected me.
"What now?" I asked, against my better judgment. The voice that told me to enjoy whatever this was without labels and rules. But the logical side of me remembered what it felt like to be stood up.
He pulled back and looked at me. "I don't know. I'm not sure I've ever been in a relationship like this before."
"So it's a relationship?" Why was I taking the cue from him in this? Shouldn't I be a modern woman and walk him to the door, acting like this hadn't affected me at all. Instead, I was a quivering disaster inside, my brain racing with a million unanswered questions.
"I don't know. I want you. I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you better. Whatever that's called."
I couldn't stop the soft smile that spread over my face. "Okay."
His brows rose like he couldn't believe that I'd agreed. "Okay?"
"Yeah, that sounds nice." He might not have said a label or described it how other men might have. But he was unique, and I wanted to be with him, not some guy trying to be the perfect boyfriend. This imperfect one was so much better.
I just hoped I wasn't ignoring the rational part of my brain because I'd always wanted this man.
"I'm going to walk you to the door and kiss you good night."
I giggled because we'd done so much more than kiss tonight.
He arched. "This is me. I can't be anyone else."
I turned at the doorway and lifted my hand to touch his cheek. "You're who I want."
He smiled and leaned down to kiss me softly. "Good night, Belle."
"Night."
He opened the door and waited for me to lock it behind him. I waved and headed to my apartment. I wanted to be alone so I could relive every second of that encounter.
I hadn't expected him to stop by, much less kiss me and then everything else that came with it. I was in so much trouble.