Just like a real library, there appears to be a row for everything—mysteries, thrillers, and even romance, and then there is the non-fiction, everything from self-help to the history of war. I pull out one of the romance books with a blond long-haired dude whose muscles look like they’re painted on. “You read Mills and Boon?” I can’t help but laugh.
He grins as he shakes his head. “I thought you might.”
I consider him. “Straight-up romance is probably not my style.” I keep searching for something that will take my fancy.
“I have a reverse-harem section if that’s more your style?” When I look back at him, his brow is cocked cheekily.
My lips tighten into a thin line. “I don’t like how much you know about me. It’s disturbing. We should be getting to know each other the normal way.”
“What’s the normal way?” He looks genuinely confused, and that makes me feel sorry for him. Has he really had such little experience with women that he thinks stalking them and watching their every move is a normal way to get to know them?
I return my attention to the books. “Ask questions and get answers. Go on dates and have conversations over time, thatreveal glimpses of who you really are. You must have dated when you were younger.” As soon as I say it, I regret it. “I mean, you got to know women before you locked yourself up here. Right?” I feel like I’m explaining relationships to a five-year-old, but in some ways, he seems so naive about how to be a normal human. Maybe that’s what happens when you live alone for so long.
“I dated plenty of women when I was younger, Sloane.” He looks wounded, but he’s the one acting like he has no idea.
With a shrug, I turn away from him again and keep searching for a book. I find a whole section on Greek mythical romance. I pick one up, inspecting the cover. It’s purple with vines twisting through the title.
He leans into the shelf beside me, and I can feel his eyes burning into me. “Why did you pick up that book?”
“Greek mythology fascinates me.”
“See, that’s something I didn’t know about you already.” He smiles, proud of himself.
“Good work, you asked a question.” I shake my head, hoping he got the sarcasm in my voice. “You know everything else from spying on me.” I take a second book, this one on Hades and Persephone. It’s a modern retelling and I think exactly what I feel like reading.
“Should I grab one of the reverse harems just for research purposes? I’m sure you’re fascinated,” he asks, his voice way too light and playful for my liking. Why is he having so much fun with this?
“I’m not,” I snap back a little too quickly, my voice going way too high, giving me away.
“We both know you are.” He crowds me, one arm to the shelf behind me, the other placing a book on top of the pile I’m collecting in my hands. There are three dudes on the cover and one chick.
I sigh heavily, raising a brow at him as if I’m annoyed. But fuck, of course I’m fascinated. While I was stuck with Reef, Romeo, and Onyx, it was a constant thought that crossed my mind. How would it work if I was with all of them at once? Would I like all the attention or feel overwhelmed by it? Would it hurt like hell to take two of their huge cocks at once or would it be the best night of my life? A pleasure so great I could never match it. A flutter of excitement runs through me at the thought. But I’m not letting Orlando in on that little part of me. “Maybe it’s you who wants to try a little orgy-type situation. Being here all alone for so long, the idea of sharing sounds like way too much fun,” I taunt him.
His hand trails up my arm softly, his eyes locking with mine as his hand cups my cheek and his finger brushes over my bottom lip. “It’s not about whatIwant.” His words are almost a whisper.
I swallow hard. The way he’s looking at me with way too much desire warms my insides and sends a thrill right through me at the same time. His eyes drop to my mouth, and he absentmindedly moistens his lips. For a second I think he’s going to kiss me, and I want him to. But then he takes a step back from me and moves to the next aisle of books. Leaving my heart fluttering like crazy. I brush over my lip when his finger was, feeling like I’ve been burned. His touch on me is so electric, the idea of us together burning into my soul. Why am I so fascinated by him?
Every time he gets close to me, he makes me desire more, then he backs away, leaving me feeling empty in the strangest way. I know the thoughts I’m having about him are inappropriate. I shouldn’t want him in the way I do. But he touches me, and I melt for him, like this is meant to be. Am I losing my mind because I’m locked up with him? I must be. This is a psychological condition, that’s the only explanation.
Shaking my head, trying to shift the sexual tension that’s coursing through me, I move down the end of the aisle and look for him in the next row. He has a book out skimming over the pages. “Why do you do that?”
He looks up at me. “Do what?”
I consider what I’m going to say, knowing I could be getting myself into dangerous territory with this man I really don’t know all that well. “Touch me like you want me, then pull away like you don’t.”
“I shouldn’t touch you.” His voice holds a dangerous edge to it, almost a warning.
“Why?” I ask anyway, my voice all breathy.
He takes a tentative step closer, his eyes searching mine, for what I don’t know, but it makes my stomach knot up. “Because if I do, there will come a day when I won’t be able to stop myself.”
I blink back at him, wishing I could read his mind. He’s so confusing. “You’re scared of what you will do to me?”
“No.” He takes another careful step closer.
I back up until I hit the wall of books. My heart races like crazy as I stare up into his dark eyes. He’s so damn beautiful, all mysterious and dangerous, but sweet as well. “You’re scared I will reject you?”
A chuckle, light and carefree, escapes his lips. “I know you want me, treasure, I can smell your arousal when we’re this close.”
