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KEENE

I needed two full days to process the shock.

I distanced myself from my friends because I didn’t want to answer any questions about why I was being quiet and contemplative, and I stayed away from the grandparents because—well, they’d ask the same question.

That had to be the biggest downside of liking to talk. Everyone fucking knew something was wrong whenever you went silent.

So I ended up at the campus stables each evening.

They were located on a farm near the edge of town.

Mainly only Aggie students went there for their agricultural courses.

But occasionally, when I was in the mood, I’d pop in and ride some of the horses to exercise them or help with feeding and cleaning and shit.

It was good, honest labor that made me feel like I’d actually accomplished something after I was done, plus, sometimes I missed horses from back in my rodeo era.

And while I was there on Thursday, I actually ended up getting offered a job by one of the professors.

I didn’t immediately accept, but I said I’d think about it.

What I refused to think about was Mystery Girl.

AKA Waverly.

But holy shit. Waverly ?

She was an untouchable. Hell, she was THE untouchable.

I did not like learning I’d fucking touched the untouchable. That I’d stuck my dick in her mouth and eaten her pussy.

That was just…

I didn’t know how to feel about it.

There was a reason why I kept a certain kind of distance from her, why I never flirted or even entertained thoughts in her direction.

She reminded me too much of my mother. And my mother had been the most important person in my world. She’d been my everything.

From the very moment I’d glanced up in the library on the first week of freshman year and seen Waverly Frank standing on the other side of that checkout counter, I’d seen the potential. I’d known what she could do to me. And I’d kept my pecker fucking away from her.

It was like that intrinsic knowledge you had at night in bed when your foot started to slip out from under the covers and off the side of the mattress.

You had to pull it back as quickly as possible before the bogeyman snatched it.

Or the resistance you felt about sliding your hand into a dark hole because a spider or snake was inevitably waiting inside to bite you.

I avoided sexual anythings with Waverly Frank because she was too much like my mom—she looked sort of like her, she worked in the same building as Mom had, she had the same quiet calmness about her—and I knew deep in my bones if I ever went down that path, I wouldn’t be coming back.

And no way in hell was I ready for that .

I was only twenty fucking years old. The prime of my life.

I was getting to experience sex with all kinds of different women, learning what they liked and didn’t like—hell, learning what I liked and didn’t like.

I was having fun and experimenting, answering to no one but myself. I was free and happy, and I liked it.

Waverly was my bogeyman. She was the snake in the dark hole. If I put my hand in there—or in this case, my dick—she’d claim it as hers, and my manwhore days would be over . I was afraid I’d want to keep her. I’d want—dammit—I’d want things I don’t even want!

It was an unreasonable fear I couldn’t shake. And that’s why I’d always kept a professional distance.

But now she was forcing me to face my greatest fear. So I started to get mad at her for it.

Because why?

Why would she do this to me?

Why would she?—

Needing that answer most of all, I started to plan.

* * *

When I returned to the library on Friday after my classes, Waverly was already behind the counter, working, her head bent slightly as she wrote in a folder.

The way her new bangs slipped from behind her ear and fell into her eyes made my stomach tighten with need.

Hot, slithery lust flushed through my veins, and I started to jones for those nipples of hers and the way they’d hardened against my tongue, eager for my attention.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

Down boy, I ordered my body. We’re mad at her. Not aroused. MAD! Don’t lose sight of the goal here.

Striding straight toward her, I tightened my jaw when she glanced up to see who was approaching, and the impact of her big brown eyes nearly made me groan.

Fucking hell, that mouth had been around my cock. And it knew how to suck.

I wanted to be naked with her so much I ached.

I had no idea how I was going to be able to do this without just…grabbing her and kissing the fuck out of her.

But I powered through, somehow, ignoring the stupid arousal she was causing.

Hopping onto the counter to sit in my usual spot, just to annoy her, I tapped my fingers along the Formica surface and arched an eyebrow as she stared back expectantly without saying a word.

The stare-off between us ensued before she shifted uneasily and demanded, “What?”

Oh yeah, I was getting to her. I could just see her brain whirling with panic. Did he know? Had he figured it out?

Yes, darlin’, I had.

“Last chance to come clean and tell me who wrote that note,” I murmured, leaning her way, which clearly intimidated her.

She shifted backward. Her pulse ticked in her throat, and her chest swelled. It was all so subtle. If I hadn’t been paying attention—which I never did because I’d never wanted to look for carnal shit on her—I wouldn’t have noticed. But she was getting as hot and bothered as I was.

She was probably thinking about how my fingers had felt inside her while I’d licked her into an orgasm.

And dammit, now my jeans were uncomfortably tight, which annoyed the hell out of me.

You’re not helping with the whole angry vibe I’m trying to pull off here, buddy, I warned my stupid betraying body.

It didn’t seem to care. It just wanted to be inside her.

Lifting her chin defiantly, she looked me in the eye—making my fingers physically tingle with the urge to reach for her—and she said, “I’m not telling you anything.”

I studied her a moment longer, my entire system shimmering with rage and arousal. “All right,” I finally murmured. “If that’s the way you want to play this.” And I hopped off the counter. “No take backs now, Frank,” I warned, turning away to stroll off.

From there, I constructed my trap. It didn’t take me long, so I found a big, comfy chair to relax in that was in view of her workstation.

She knew I was there, watching her. Every once in a while, she’d glance over to scowl, but otherwise, she kept her cool.

When some dumbass-looking motherfucker joined her behind the front counter, she showed him a few things that still needed to be done and then she collected her book bag to leave.

So I finally rose from my chair, stretched out my sore muscles as if I wasn’t about to pounce on my prey, and I moved in for the kill.

Returning to the checkout station, I slapped a slip of paper down onto the counter in front of her, making her jump.

She looked up under the sweep of those new long bangs, and my guts knotted with tension.

“I can’t find this book,” I said.

With a roll of her eyes, she jostled the strap of her backpack to bring attention to it. “I’m off the clock. Ask Morris for help.” She motioned to the dumbass who was standing over by a cart of books scratching his head as if he were confused, and I made a distasteful expression.

“No. I want you.”

Her gaze flashed up in surprise as if she thought I meant something totally different.

Because I’d purposely made it sound that way.

And the longing in her eyes made my flesh ripple with its own need.

Leaning over the counter and lowering my voice to an intimate level, I told her, “That idiot tried to help me before. He doesn’t know his ass from his elbow.”

I watched her closely as I repeated, “I want you.”

It was nearly imperceptible but I was able to pick up a few signs that my words affected her. Her lips just barely parted, and her chest lifted a micromillimeter as she drew in a breath.

But when she met my gaze, she made sure to frown and heave out a deep, irritated sigh, as if I were wasting her time. “Fine,” she muttered and reached for the piece of paper I’d slapped onto the counter. Her fingers shifted it around until the call number was facing her.

I watched those fingers, still in disbelief that they belonged to the mystery girl who’d cupped my balls while she deep throated me or that those were the nails that had gouged me in the back, encouraging me to push deeper into her mouth.

I could almost deny it until my gaze fell to the tip of her feather tattoo that was peeking out the end of her sleeve.

There was no denying that .

She was my mystery girl. My Mistress.

Her hands moved and shifted over to the keyboard so she could look the book up, even as she said, “Is it already checked out?”

“It said it wasn’t,” I answered as I watched her double-check my answer, clearly not believing me.

She scowled momentarily at the screen of her computer before saying, “It’s not on any display or in some special section. It should be right there on the shelf in the regular stacks.”

“Well, it’s not.”

She sighed heavily and sent me a put-out look. “Fine. I’ll look.”

Yes!

“Thank you,” I told her with a grateful incline of my head.

Telling Morris goodbye, she moved around the desk to my side of the counter, and I fell into step with her as she headed in the direction we needed to go.

My body felt like a live wire, vibrating at her nearness.

Neither of us spoke as she led the way up to the stacks on the second level.

When she turned down a narrow row toward the back, I followed, stopping right behind her when she scanned the spines.

After a moment, she found what she was looking for on the top shelf and huffed out a disgusted breath as she dropped her bag to the floor beside her so she could lift herself up on her tiptoes and reach.

“Are you blind? It’s right there.”

“Sorry, Mistress,” I said, closing in. “I guess it was just too dark for me to see clearly.”