I swear, there has to be two inches of dust coating some of the shelves back here, I think to myself as I make my way towards the darker, quieter section of the school library.

Somehow, I never knew that the library went back this far. It’s an area that is, clearly, underused, and the shelf spaces that don’t have books covering them have a fine layer of dust on them. Most of the books are dusty too, almost as if no one has dreamily run their fingers over the spines, peering closely at the text to find what they’re looking for. Since it isn’t a high traffic area, there are no tables or study spaces anywhere around for people to sit at and, well, probably not do much studying.

I try to ignore the rush of heat to my cheeks at the thought and focus on reading some of the titles on the books. Even if there is nothing useful here, at least it’s a quiet spot for me to write. For a while, I lose myself just strolling down the aisles, breathing in the dust, perusing the titles and imagining what they might be about without even looking at the covers. It probably sounds dumb, but it was a game I enjoyed playing when I went to the local library as a kid.

I find a spot on the floor, near a lamp, and sit down on the bumpy carpet, leaning against a bookcase. I pull my notebook and pencil case out of my backpack, open to a new page, and stare at it for a few seconds. The flash of creativity that sometimes distracts me while I’m in class is silent as the grave now, even though I have time to just concentrate on my vast imaginings.

Damnit. I tap the pencil against my forehead, almost as if that will tease the words out of my brain. Then I lean my head back against a shelf, sigh, and close my eyes. If I try to empty my mind of every little dumb thing about life that tends to titter around in my brain all day, maybe I’ll feel the strike I’m waiting for.

I was working so hard at this I guess I didn’t even hear the squish of shoes on the carpet and the quiet rattle of a chain as a person approached. Abruptly, I opened my eyes and saw Eddie, leaning casually against the shelf across the aisle, smirking at me. He had his arms crossed, his eyebrow arched, as he sized me up.

“Don’t think too hard, your brain might explode,” he says.

I shake my head. “Actually, I’m trying not to think so much. Clogs up the flow of inspiration I’m waiting for.”

He gives a small nod. “Ah. Big essay or something?”

“Actually no,” I reply, “I like creative writing. I’m trying to think of something to get me inspired.”

He smirks again. I take a moment to study him, even though I’ve seen him plenty of times before. He’s usually wearing a band tee, jeans with holes in them, and his denim vest. He’s got a chain on his belt and he’s wearing his usual white Reeboks. Somehow, though, I realize I never took much more of a closer look until now. I notice that his brown eyes are soft, almost with a twinkle in them, like he’s playing some kind of joke on me and is waiting for me to figure it out. The quirk of his lip is subtle but playful. He raises his eyebrows at me, like he’s weirded out about me staring at him.

“Sorry,” I mutter, looking down at my blank notebook.

He squats on his heels so he’s level with me, making it so his big brown eyes are right in front of me. His full head of bushy hair looks soft. I get a whiff of his smokey musk as he leans close to me. He’s still got that sexy, devil-may-care smile on his face.

Wow, I guess I never realized how hot he actually is, I think to myself. Have our faces ever been this close together before? Couldn’t have been, because I definitely don’t remember my heart beat quickening at his closeness like this.

“Maybe I can help?” he says quietly, just over a whisper, as he moves in closer. He rests his hand on the bookshelf behind me, above my shoulder, and his mouth hovers right next to my ear. His breath brings a rush of heat to my skin. I swallow nervously, somehow feeling like I can’t move. He reaches his other hand to rest on the side of my neck. I close my eyes, inhaling his scent deeply. The pressure of his hand on my neck increases ever so slightly, his thumb circling the delicate skin over my jaw.

He breathes into my neck, softly, and slowly lowers his lips to my collarbone. I gasp, feeling the rush of heat jolt through my body at his touch. Slowly, the thought of my writing washes out of my head, the notebook and pencil neglected as they fall off my lap when I lean into him, clutching his denim vest to bring him closer.

He chuckles and gives me a small nip on my earlobe. He pulls his face away so our eyes meet again. He grins at me, increasing the pressure of his hand on my neck even more.

“So, that’s a yes?” He says quietly, teasingly.

I nod, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He leans in closer again, slowly, and I gently pull on his vest, my fingers digging into the denim.

He moves his hand so it’s wrapped around the back of my neck, pulling my whole head into an explosive kiss. That jolt of fire jumps through me again, fast as the speed of light, buzzing in my head. His lips are soft, practiced, as he alternates between quick sweeps of his tongue into my mouth and soft nips on my lips.

The kiss deepens, and suddenly I feel weightless. I’m pulling him into me still, as if there was any way he could be closer, and then I wrap my arms around his neck. His hands, which previously had been clutching my neck and resting on the bookcase behind us, move down to the back of my thighs, where he quickly hoists me up so he has me pinned against the bookcase behind me. He’s stronger than I thought. I find myself wrapping my legs around his waist before I abruptly stop, letting them fall so I’m standing again.

The spell he seemed to put on me snaps, just for a second. I feel a hot blush fill my cheeks as I move my hands back to his chest, gently pushing against him.

“What if someone sees us?!” I hiss quickly, meeting his eyes again. Instead of finding embarrassment on his face, he’s just smirking and laughing.

Even as I try to put space between us, he continues to press closer, using his height and weight to keep me pinned between him and the bookshelf.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “No one ever comes back here. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

He has a point. Still, this is a library. There is a chance someone will find us.

“How do you know?” I whisper back.

He smiles mischievously as he pats over the pocket on his denim vest. “Sometimes I leave stuff here for people to pick up. It’s discrete and no one else knows about it.”

I raise my eyebrow. “’Stuff?’”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small baggie of weed to show me, then tucks it back.

“Oh, I see,” I say, shaking my head. I try to duck under his arms, but he presses right up against me, his hands on my waist. Truthfully, I don’t want wherever this was going to end. My heart is still pounding and there is a slight sheen of sweat forming over my skin, almost as if the temperature in the library went up. But the way he is fighting against me is a little bit thrilling. The more I try to move away, the harder he works to keep me pinned.

He cups my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. He looks so soft, gentle, from this close. I don’t think I ever looked deeper than his rugged appearance and his messy hair. His eyes are a rich brown with streaks of gold in his irises. There is a glimmer of mischief in them. The sneaky smile on his face is reflected in his eyes, almost like he’s trying to tease me with his gaze alone.

His thumbs are resting on the side of my face, making small swirls by my ears.

“I normally don’t find anyone back here,” he whispers, “but I’m glad I did today.”

I decide to play along. I raise my hands back up to his vest, running my own thumbs across one of the buttons.

“Why is that?” I ask, breathlessly.

He breaks eye contact, moving his face right next to my ear and placing soft kisses on my throat.

“Tell me,” he says huskily, “Have you ever been fucked against a bookshelf?”

There goes that jolt of lighting again. This time, I feel it burn across every inch of my skin. A mad rush of butterflies rages in my stomach as he chuckles, his lips still peppering my neck with soft kisses. He obviously noticed my physiological reaction. He responds by quickly, and with force, gripping the backs of my thighs again and hoisting me up the bookshelf. Without even thinking, my legs are wrapped tightly around him again and my arms are looped across his shoulders. He starts kissing me again, hungrily, his hands moving up my waist and under my shirt.

I feel his fingers under my bra strap as he continues to caress my back, alternating between gripping me and gently brushing his fingers across my skin. Goosebumps trickle all over my arms, and it feels like his touch is generating electricity on my skin. God, it’s too much and not enough all at the same time.

The bookshelf presses against my back, causing a small bite of pain, but somehow that makes everything even hotter. It feels like my heart is going to jump out of my chest and that heat will burn me up from the inside. He responds to me, kissing me harder and sweeping his tongue into my mouth.

I move my hands to cup his face, keeping our lips together so we can’t even take a breath. I feel his fingers deftly undo my bra strap, and as the band slips down, his hands slide to cup my breasts.

“Fuck,” he moans softly, moving his head to rest against my shoulder. He kisses my collarbone, squeezing my breasts gently. I move my hands to run through his thick hair, pulling him even closer into me. He then pinches my nipples, and I have to stop myself from crying out loudly.

I cover my mouth with one hand, giggling furiously. He laughs, gently nipping my neck, and continues to caress my nipples.

“I love that sound you made,” he says breathlessly.

“We are in a library!” I whisper between giggles. He silences me with a powerful kiss.

“Funny, I completely forgot where we were just now,” he says teasingly between kisses.

I put my hands on the side of his face, forcing him to pause so he’ll look at me. “What if somebody hears us?”

When I say this, he grins at me like a devil. He gives my nipples another gentle squeeze, then says, “Well then, we’d better get a move on before someone finds us.”

With that, I completely surrender to the spell he seemingly has me under. He thrusts into me, pressing my back into the bookshelf even harder and causing some books to shift. Him pressing me against the shelf, and my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, are the only forces keeping me upright. As we keep kissing, I push my hands under his shirt and run my fingers over his skin.

He moans into my mouth as I run my hands over his torso and chest.

Whoa, he’s a little bit muscular, and I never would have known before. He isn’t ripped or anything, but his body is slender with slight muscle definition across his abdomen and chest. Considering that I had always thought he was one of the nerds, I wouldn’t take him for a strong guy, but underneath his grungey clothes, he is hot.

His hands are still under my shirt, exploring every inch of my skin that he can reach. I do the same for him, relishing his shoulder muscles and his strong, smooth back. He breaks our kiss so he can go back to kissing my neck and my collarbone, pushing my shirt out of the way so he can press his lips lower and lower towards my chest.

It feels like there is an explosion pending inside me, the clock ticking agonizingly slowly as his touch sets my skin on fire. Feeling braver, I move my hands to his lower stomach, right above his pant line, and feel the fine dusting of hair there. When I do this, he audibly gasps into my neck. He leans back a bit, his lower body and legs still holding me upright, allowing me more access. I start kissing him again, drawing out the tease, pressing my fingers into the skin right under his belt line.

He moans against my throat again, using his hands to guide mine to his belt buckle. I undo it blindly, pressing our lips together with more fury as I fumble with the buttons and the zipper. He moans again as I reach down into his pants, feeling his length pressing into me. The way he moans nearly gets me completely undone.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles gently, his face pressed against my throat. He leans into my touch more so my hands softly go up and down his length. As I do this, he fumbles with my own pants, managing to quickly undo the zipper and shove them forcefully down my ass. Our hands continue to fumble over each other until he presses a finger against my heat.

I lose control over the sounds I was making. As soon as his fingers touched me, I felt my insides coiling up tight, rushing through my whole body. He looks up at me as he continues to press and swirl his fingers gently, a hungry look on his face. I press my head back against the shelf and close my eyes, relishing the feel of his touch. I feel his eyes on me, consuming me with fire, and I feel the blood racing in my veins, like I’m starved of oxygen. When I open my eyes to look at him, he looks at me like a starving person might look at a meal. He continues to watch me as I grind against his hand, the pressure mounting with every thrust. He matches my speed, pressing into me tight, watching as I start to come undone.

“That’s it, good girl,” he mumbles softly, smiling at me. And with that, I shatter. With the hand that isn’t coaxing me into oblivion, he covers my mouth gently to stifle my cry, laughing slightly. The coil of power inside me breaks, flooding my whole body with wave upon wave of electricity. The pressure pulses, sucking the air from my lungs, and turning every muscle into jelly. I sink into him, my arms wrapped around his neck and my face buried in his hair. Every sensation is intoxicating: the slight aroma of his shampoo and a hint of musky smoke filling my nose, the feel of his skin against mine, and the soft groans he makes as I ride his hand.

The hand that was covering my mouth moves down to cup my ass, supporting my body as I lose all of my strength. He pulls his other hand from inside me and somehow manages to dig into his pants pocket. Still supporting my weight, I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper as he opens it. I quickly finish pushing his pants down as he does the same for me, yanking them off my legs. Before I can think, he has the condom on and he pierces me swiftly, splitting me wide open. I press my face into his neck, stifling my cry, as he holds us both still. I relish the feeling of him inside me. He moans quietly, then guides my face back to his with his hands. Instead of kissing me, he holds my head up so he is looking right into my eyes.

It’s utterly mesmerizing. He gazes at me, a smile on the corner of his lips, as he slowly begins to pull his cock out of me. The feeling defies description as he pulls and pushes, thrusting into me slowly as his eyes never leave mine. The intensity of his gaze, which before was so soft, is now ravenous. Before, his strength was gentle as he held me up, but now his body is hot and hard against mine. There is a sheen of sweat on his face and his hair against his neck is damp.

One of his hands is gripping my thigh, holding me up and keeping me at the perfect angle. The other is wrapped around the back of my head, his fingers curling into my hair. I start to feel the coil of tension bundle up inside me again, slowly and with increasing intensity, as his eyes never leave mine.

Finally, he seems to lose what control he had. He presses his head into my neck, moaning as he thrusts into me harder and faster. His fingers tighten their grip, both on my thigh and around my neck. I wrap my fingers around his head, tangled in his hair, as he grunts against me with his thrusts.

The pressure inside me builds until I feel like I can’t bear it anymore. I forget all about the fact that we’re in a library, that the bookshelf is pressing hard against my shoulders and lower back and might leave bruises, and I might have forgotten my own name as we both find release, him pressing his hand over my mouth to shield the scream that erupts from me while he presses his face into my neck to stifle his own moans.

I feel him throbbing inside me and it courses in delicious waves through my entire body. I forget how to think, how to breathe, and how to speak as we ride the waves with our bodies enmeshed tightly together. I feel a line of sweat course down his hairline across his neck as we breathe heavily. The seconds tick by, and just when I think he is going to pull away, he wraps his arms around me and gently caresses my back, continuing to lean his face into my neck. He presses soft kisses against my throat, staying inside me instead of pulling out. If my body would cooperate, I would just stay like this forever. Eventually, the ache in my legs and back will force me back on the ground, even though the thought of it makes me sad.

Eventually, he pulls out, groaning as he does, and he gently guides me back to the ground so I’m standing back on my feet. He keeps me pressed between him and the bookshelf, preventing me from stumbling over. He quickly pulls his pants back up so they’re resting loosely against his waist, so I can still see the treasure trail of hair on his stomach. It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

He surprises me by gathering up my pants and helping me into them, one leg at a time, until I pull them and zip them up. He wraps his arms back around my waist, as if he can’t bear to stop touching me, and he bends down to kiss me. This time, it’s soft and gentle. I wrap my arms around his waist too as I start to battle the feelings that are now flooding my head. The best moments in life are always over too soon, I think to myself. He stops kissing me to rest his forehead against mine and closes his eyes.

I press my face into his shirt, inhaling his intoxicating aroma. It’s warm and it’s unique and it’s him, even though I had never gotten close enough to smell it before. It smells like cigarette smoke, a hint of weed, and just a whisper of a fresh smell, like laundry detergent. I want to savor it so I won’t forget it. He chuckles and places a kiss on my forehead.

“Are you feeling inspired now?” he whispers into my ear.

I smile into him, holding back a laugh. “I’m feeling a lot of things right now.”

He leans away just enough to look at me, even though our bodies are still pressed together. Then, he runs his thumbs gently under my eyes and smooths over my hair. “Beautiful,” he says breathlessly.

My skin flushes and I wipe around my eyes with my own fingers, finally understanding that my eye makeup is probably smeared. He stops me, grabbing my hands in his.

“I think I have an idea, and I know what to call it too,” I tell him with a smile.

He grins back at me with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Yeah, and what’s that?”
I press a kiss to his lips and stand on the tips of my toes so I can whisper it in his ear.

“I’m going to call it, ‘The Library.’”