Rebel Roommate

Chapter 2: Sam

A throaty laugh to my right snapped me out of my horror.

"You don't look like a men-in-kilts type of guy," she said. "No offense."

"Yeah. None taken. I think I'm in the wrong section." I nodded and slid her a grin I knew from experience would liquefy women's panties. Judging from the blush brightening her cheeks, mission accomplished. What I wouldn't give to slide my fingers over her heated skin, feel the give of those plump lips, then track lower to see just how wet I'd made her. Right here in the romance section. f**k those men in kilts.

"Um, so what are you looking for?" she asked, her gaze directed everywhere but me.

You, I wanted to say since it was the truth. Instead, I said, "Automotive. I'm a mechanic." Also the truth.

She nodded. "Instead of taking a left after the circulation desk, you should have taken a right. Automotive is in the 600s."

"Thanks," I said, and didn't even pretend to move in that direction.

She seemed to notice I was perfectly comfy right there, taking all of her in, and her eyebrows drew together as if I'd just given her an uncrackable riddle. "You're a reader?"

"God, no."

She went back to scanning the paperbacks, as if she was dismissing me for more important things.

Okay, no more truth, since that wasn't exactly what a hot book addict wanted to hear. All I usually needed to do was eye-f**k a girl until she was begging to ride me, which was hard to do behind sunglasses. But Paige wasn't the type of girl I normally hung out with. She was smarter, better. Always had been.

Maybe it was the heat outside or the library's arctic air conditioning, but my mouth felt like I'd just swallowed the desert. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. My whole body clenched while Paige's eyes tracked the movement.

She traced a slow finger over several books on a shelf, her gaze never leaving my mouth, and there was something so s****l about the way she caressed them, I nearly choked.

"I mean, sometimes I read." Wow. Not much better at all, asshole.

Her dark eyes searched my face, a playful glint inside them. "You just like to look?" she asked. Her voice held a note of playfulness that cracked a grin across my face.

She was playing with me like some kind of sparkly toy. And I liked it.

"I do like to look."

"I can see that," she said with a lifted eyebrow.

What was I supposed to look at? The books?

I waved an arm at her luggage. "Do you always bring your luggage to the library?"

She glanced at me coolly. "Not always."

"I see," I said, leaning against the shelves with my arms crossed. I let my gaze roam over her while she stretched on tiptoe for a book. God forbid I offer to help since the view was just fine from here. "Let me guess, your house burned down, and the suitcases and their contents are what's left."

"Not even close," she said, shaking her head. "And how would I have time to pack if my house burned down?"

"Fair point." I didn't care how stupid my theories were. As long as Paige was acknowledging my existence, I would say whatever jumped into my head first. Well, almost whatever. "You have insider information that the zombie apocalypse starts today and you wanted to be prepared."

There was that sexy, throaty laugh again, so different from the giggly girls I knew.

"The only zombie apocalypse preparedness I know is to collect bubble wrap," she said.

I frowned. "What?"

"It's a natural alarm. If you put sheets of it around you while you're sleeping, the popping noise will wake you if all the moaning doesn't." She looked at me again with a smile that completely disarmed me.

I thought I'd committed that smile to memory, but it was so much better in person. Now it came from a woman instead of the girl I used to know. A curvier woman with a reddish color painted on her plump lips that didn't used to be there. Makeup, but that was the only sign of it I saw, which was another difference between her and my usual f**k buddies. She was so damn gorgeous, made even more so since it didn't seem to matter to her.

"Well, goddamn. That's a great idea." I knew a thing or two about zombie apocalypse preparedness, and I never once considered bubble wrap. It made me want to lick her brain, as well as every other part of her, in a completely s****l, non-zombie way.

She went back to scanning the shelves. "Not every idea I have is a great one," she said.

I had no clue what she meant by that. I moved closer but not too close, careful not to scare her away. It had been so long since I'd had to give chase. I had to admit I was a bit rusty at it. "You're not homeless, are you?"

"Graduate student, so almost," she said. "I'm here for an internship, and I'm on my way to my friend's house."

"An internship, huh?"

"At another library." Her whole face brightened with excitement. "I'm kind of a fan of books." She lovingly stroked the books' spines, her gaze locked on mine, and then grinned. "I'm probably boring you to death, aren't I?"

"Not really, no." In fact, she was the exact opposite of boring. I would gladly plant my feet right here to listen to her talk about books just to be near her.

She nodded, her mouth twisted to the side, like she was considering if she believed me or not. "Do you always come to libraries to hit on women?"

I held up my hands, faking innocence. "Hey, I'm just looking for an automotive book."

"In the romance section."

"Because you keep talking about internships and books. If I wasn't here, you'd be talking to yourself," I said, then leaned in and lowered my voice, "and then people would really start to wonder about you. See? I'm doing you a favor."

She threw her head back with a laugh, then shushed herself with a palm over her mouth. The overhead lights sparkled her eyes. Warmth I hadn't felt in a long time filled my insides. Damn. Her laughter could be completely addicting.

"Well, I guess I should say thanks for making me not look like a crazy person," she said.

"Any time."

"Do you think you could do me one more favor and help me get a book from the top shelf?" she asked. "Height deficiency is a book nerd's worst nightmare."

With slow, deliberate steps, I stalked toward her. Hunger darkened her eyes as she watched me draw closer. She parted her full lips to dart her tongue over them. My jeans tightened almost painfully around my crotch. She wanted me, and I wanted to take her right here with paperbacks falling all around us. Maybe that was one of her s****l fantasies, to have someone f**k her senseless in a library, because she backed into the shelf instead of moving out of the way.

She stared up at me, her lips glistening, her chest pressing against mine with every inhale. She stood so close, she had to feel the heat radiating from my c**k.

"Which one?" I asked through clenched teeth.

"Have Your Way With Me," she said and swallowed. Red burned across her cheeks to the tips of her ears.

I closed my eyes as her breaths, which grew faster, harder, brushed past my chin. God, she smelled amazing, like spicy candy.

Wait. What? Her words suddenly unscrambled themselves inside my brain. Was that an order? She wanted me to have my way with her? Well, if she insisted...

"By Lisa Montgomery," she finished with a naughty little grin.

Sweet Jesus, she was playing with me again.

"Have Your Way With Me," I repeated into her ear and felt her shudder against me. I could play her game, too.

I scanned the titles, barely able to register anything but her, and plucked what I thought was the right book from the shelf. When my gaze met hers again, the small distance between our lips made both my heads pound with need.

Her tongue shot out to lick her lips while she stared straight ahead at my chest.

My conscience, who always played dead in these types of situations, stopped me from diving into her and taking her right here in the men-in-kilts section.

She didn't know who I really was. That I was Sam Cleary, little brother to the man both our families thought she would eventually marry, first semester college dropout, womanizer, and despite my best efforts, a bad guy.

I was a loser compared to Paige. I didn't even deserve to breathe the same air as her. Yet here I stood, seconds away from kissing the one girl I'd crushed on since childhood.

"Take off your sunglasses so I can see you," she said.

I held the book out for her to take. "No."

As she took it, her fingers brushed mine. "Then tell me your name."

When I didn't say anything, she placed a hand against my chest and pushed. "Then I guess this is goodbye, stranger. Thanks for the book."

I pressed myself in so she couldn't escape. A little too close. So close her lips almost touched mine. "Wait, Paige."

Her mouth parted, but then her body stiffened. Her eyes searched my face incredulously. "I never gave you my name."

"Excuse me," an irritated voice at the other end of the aisle said.

Shit and double s**t.

I tore my gaze away from Paige's probing stare to see a stereotypical librarian glaring at us, bun, cardigan, pissed-off expression, and all.

"This is a library, not a brothel," she warned. "Have some respect for yourselves and our patrons, please, and keep all body parts to yourselves."

"Sorry." I offered her a crooked grin, but it wavered when I glanced back at Paige and her flaming-red face. "We'll go somewhere else."

Yeah, probably not.

"See that you do." The librarian sniffed and walked on.

Without a word, Paige wriggled out of my arms, collected her bags, and ran out of my life. I stared after her a split second before I followed, but it was a second too late.

The security guard stepped between her and me.

"Don't worry," I said and plowed maybe a little too roughly around him. "I'm leaving."

The guard locked thick fingers around my arm in a death grip. "I'll show you the door in case you get lost."

Several yards away, Paige sped around a corner, in the opposite direction of the door. I needed to find her, explain to her who I was.

"My girlfriend," I said, pointing. Right. I wished.

"She'll meet up with you outside. This way."

I could've shaken him loose and gone searching for Paige, but I didn't see the point in raising more commotion. She would come out eventually. Then we could talk.

When we were outside, the guard said, "Have a nice day" and shoved me toward the concrete steps.

Point taken. I drifted toward the parking lot while keeping my gaze on the doors behind me.

I'd scared her. I should've told her who I was right from the start.

I strode to my car to wait for her, the summer sun quickly melting all traces of the library's air conditioning on my skin. Stifling heat rolled out from the open door of my Chevy in waves. The seat's leather burned my back and ass. As soon as I keyed the ignition to crank the air, the back passenger door flew open then slammed closed.

A flash of steel. Something clicked. A gun. Attached to Hill himself, who now sat behind me.