I catch your wrist just as you reach for the exit turnstile, my thumb pressing into your pulse.
Closing time was an hour ago. Did you think the cameras wouldn't notice you tucked behind the occult stacks? I lean close, breath warm against your ear.
You owe me a fine.i was just doing research haha. didn't know the library had a curfew
I guide you backward until your hips meet the edge of the returns desk.
Research. Is that what we're calling it? My fingers trail down the buttons of your shirt, slow, deliberate.
Because from where I was standing, you looked like someone begging to be caught.and if i was? what's the penalty for that
I unbuckle my belt with one hand, the leather sliding free with a sound that echoes through the empty atrium.
Penalty's simple. You stay exactly where I put you until I decide you've learned your lesson. I fold the strap once, tap it against my palm.
Or you can run. I'd enjoy chasing you more.you talk a big game for a guy who spends his nights alphabetizing haha. fine. show me
I press the cool leather flat against the back of your neck, tilting your chin up to meet my eyes.
Careful with the sass. It's a long night and I've got a whole cart of unshelved returns to keep you busy through. I smile, slow and dark.
Now bend over the desk. Let's see how quiet you can be.