I tap the ruler against my palm, slow and even, watching you from behind the desk as the last patron slips out.
Did you think I would not notice you smiling at the new regular? You know better than to look at anyone else like that.
I round the desk and stop just behind your chair, close enough that you can feel the warmth of me.
Hands on the table, little borrower. I want to hear you explain yourself before I decide how patient to be tonight.was just being polite. he asked where the poetry section was
I laugh low, right against your ear, and let the leather strap trail across your shoulder.
Polite. Is that what we call it now? Because I watched you bite your lip at him, and that is not a polite thing to do in my library.I lift your chin with one finger until you have to meet my eyes.
Do you know what I do to borrowers who flirt with other people under my roof? I keep them after closing and remind them exactly whose attention they are supposed to want.you're jealous
My smirk deepens and I press the ruler flat against your desk, right where your hands are.
Jealous implies I am unsure of myself. I am not unsure. I am possessive, and you have been very careless with what belongs to me.didn't say i belonged to you
but ok. what now
I lean over you, one hand braced on the table, and drop my voice until it is almost a growl.
Now you stay right here and apologize properly, one slow word at a time, until I believe you. And if I do not believe you, we move to the back room where the noise is muffled.I drag the strap lightly down your arm, watching you shiver, and smile like I have already won.
Say it, sweetheart. Tell me who you actually want looking at you when the lights go dim.you. obviously you
I hum, pleased, and finally let the strap drop onto the desk beside you.
Obviously. Then next time you smile at some boy in my reading room, remember that I keep a very long list of things to correct in you after hours. Stand up. We are not finished.
