“I’m just showing you that I’m fine.” I lift my shirt higher.

  “You — um…” Her eyes burn a trail of heat across my skin.

  She looks everywhere.

  I’m too big to be shredded. I don’t have a defined six-pack like some of the guys do.

  But I’m all strength. Thick. Built for power.

  I need to be huge. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be on the team.

  A soft hand presses against my pec, and I clench my jaw.

  “Wow.” I don’t think she means to say it. But she does.

  I flex, causing my chest muscles to expand under her touch.

  Her eyes snap up to meet mine.

  “Believe me now?” I ask, my voice deeper than normal.

  Hannah swallows. “Yeah.” Then she looks back down at my body.

  Like she’s just realizing what she’s doing, she snatches her hand back.

  This isn’t the first time she’s touched me. But it’s the first time it was skin on skin. And I want more.

  She scoots back in her chair, her cheeks blooming a deep red. “I’m sorry. I didn’t — I shouldn’t have touched you like that.”

  “You can touch me any way you want.” I lift my shirt higher and wiggle my eyebrows. I don’t want her to feel like she did anything wrong.

  Her mouth pinches like she’s trying not to laugh, even as she looks back toward the window.

  “Going once…” I lower and raise my shirt.

  “Oh my god, put your shirt down!” She finally breaks, laughing.

  I lift it higher, twisting side to side, making sure she can see as much as she wants to.

  “Maddox.” She leans forward, reaching for my shirt.

  We’re facing each other, our sides against the backs of our chairs, our knees touching.

  And when she gets back within touching distance, arms outstretched toward me, I let go of my shirt. And I reach for her.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  HANNAH

  As my fingers brush the fabric of the T-shirt, his hands move, and he grips me under my arms.

  I don’t have time to react before he drags me forward. And pulls me off my chair and onto his lap.

  Or, more specifically, to straddle his lap.

  When he lifted me, my traitorous legs spread themselves.

  I flatten my palms against his chest, where I was touching him before, only this time it’s rising and falling with heavy breaths.

  He slides his hands down my sides and grips my hips.

  “Mr. Lovelace,” I whisper. “What are you doing?”

  His lids half lower when I say his name like that, and the thighs beneath my butt flex.

  “Fuck, Babe. I’m gonna need you to call me that again.” Maddox’s voice is nearly a growl. “And I’m gonna need you to be in a skirt when you do it.”

  Warmth floods my core, a pulse building between my legs.

  This is crazy.

  Ridiculous.

  A dream.

  I lean forward. “Why a skirt?”

  He drags my body closer. “All the better to fuck you in.”

  His growled words startle a gasp out of me. I was not expecting him to be so direct.

  A strong hand slides up my back, holding me in place as Maddox closes the distance between us and presses his mouth to mine.

  I don’t even try to resist.

  His lips are warm and surprisingly soft.

  Demanding but gentle.

  I tilt my head, getting closer, as I slide my hands up his chest and wrap my arms around his neck.

  The movement causes a groan to roll out of Maddox’s throat, and he uses his hold on me to pull me in even closer.

  And that’s when I feel it. Against the front of my jeans.

  A shiver of desire rolls through me.

  I felt it the other day. Felt his hardness against my belly when he was holding me. But having it between my legs. Having it there. Lined up where I want him most.

  It’s intoxicating.

  He’s intoxicating.

  His tongue swipes across the seam of my mouth, and I open, letting him in.

  And when he tastes me, my hips rock.

  This time, we both groan.

  All of him, every damn inch, is big.

  So freaking big.

  The kiss deepens. Grows. Becomes more frantic.

  We lean into each other, and his facial hair rasps at the edges of my mouth.

  Just like I imagined.

  I want to touch more of him.

  Want to feel the warmth of his body again.

  I move my hand from his neck, down his chest, then over the hem of his shirt that’s still bunched up over his stomach, then farther until I have his warm skin under my palm.

  His tongue pulls out of my mouth, and mine chases it, swiping against his lips.

  Behind me, his knees lift, and I slide a little more down his thighs. Our bodies are flush now. And the pressure is there. Right where I want him. Where I need him.

  “You’re a bad girl, Miss Utley.”

  I curl my fingers, dragging my nails across his flesh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Lovelace.”

  A big palm grips my ass. And god, it feels so good.

  He makes me feel so good.

  A burst of loud laughter filters through the door, reminding us that we’re not alone.

  Maddox drops his forehead to my shoulder.

  I lift the hand from his stomach and hook my arm back around his neck, hugging him to me, as we both catch our breath.

  The hand still on my ass flexes. “Fucking hell, Hannah.”

  A puff of humor leaves me. Glad he seems to be as affected as I am. “You started it.”

  He snorts and shakes his head against me.

  Giving in to the urge I’ve had since I first saw him, I slide one of my hands up the back of his neck and run my fingers through his short dark hair.

  He nuzzles into my touch.

  I want to stay like this forever, but the reminder of other people also serves as a reminder that this is where I work. And I can’t get fired for fooling around in a study room.

  I rub my fingers through his hair once more. “So, The Count of Monte Cristo?”

  His back rises with a deep inhale. “The fucking Count of Monte Cristo.”

  Maddox lifts his head, and his hooded gaze fills me with confidence.

  I force a serious expression onto my face. “Upon closer inspection, I’ve come to the conclusion that your body is satisfactory.”

  He fights a smirk. “I appreciate the thorough checkup, Dr. Utley.”

  I press my lips together and nod. “My pleasure.” I reach for his shirt and tug it down, covering his tempting middle. “But I’ll still have to submit the bill to your insurance. Following protocol and all that.”

  “I understand.” Maddox holds a steady look before he chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re something else, Little Bunny.”

  “Something good, I hope.”

  “The best.”

  Sparks of joy dance across my skin.

  Strong hands rest against my sides. “But if I fail this class, I’m blaming you.”

  “Can’t have that.”

  I try to climb off his lap, but my feet are hanging above the ground.

  I wiggle my hips. “Mind giving me a hand?”

  He lets go of me with one hand, then smacks it down against my ass. The spank is loud in the little room.

  “Mr. Lovelace!”

  Maddox is grinning as he rubs his palm against my butt. “Sorry, but I’ve wanted to do that since the first time you ran away from me.”

  “Brute,” I accuse without heat.

  Sighing, he grips my waist with both hands and slides me backward. One of his legs moves beneath me while he uses his foot to hook the leg of my chair, dragging it over so I go right from being on his legs onto the seat.

  Unable to help myself, my gaze drops to his lap.

  The tent in his jeans has my heartbeat picking back up.

  He presses his palm down on his length and groans. “You gotta stop looking at it like that.”

  I bite my lip. “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re not,” he laughs. “But you can make up for the torment by reading to me.”

  Turning toward the table, I clear my throat and put my hand on the book, dragging it over in front of me.

  “Where are you?” I ask when I don’t see a bookmark.

  “Page one.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and I’m not sure if he’s lying, but I decide we might as well start together at the beginning.

  Opening the cover, I watch out the corner of my eye as he scoots his chair closer. And closer. Until it’s right up against mine.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve read aloud to someone, but I don’t feel nervous. Maddox won’t judge me if I mispronounce a word.

  He settles his arm across the back of my chair, his chin going to my shoulder as he leans into my side.

  “I’m ready.” His voice rumbles directly from his chest into my body.

  Relaxing into him, I prop the book on the table and read the first line.

  “On February twenty-fourth…”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  MADDOX

  The way she reads is almost lyrical.

  Her soft voice rises and falls with the emotions in the words. She makes it a… production.

  The chapters have melded together, the story coming to life through her telling of it. And I know I won’t be able to read the rest of the book alone. I’m going to need her to do this with me every week. Hell, every day.

  Hannah turns the page, and I slide my eyes away from the words on the paper and focus on her hand.

  The way it cradles the book.

  The way she slowly slides her thumb down the edge of the page, tracking her progress.

  Then I think about the way her fingers felt in my hair. On my chest. Pressing against my bare stomach.

  My dick twitches in my jeans.

  To be fair to my dick, he’s been dying for attention since I pulled her onto my lap. Since he felt the heat of her. But he’ll have to wait a bit longer.

  I tip my head to the side and rub my cheek against her shoulder.

  Her huff of laughter causes me to smile. And sitting here, in the library study room, I wonder if maybe this is it. If I’ve found my girl. My ride or die.

  She keeps reading, but my mind moves away from the wronged sailor to my future.

  I want to play pro ball.

  I want to make my family proud.

  I want my little brother, Maximus, the six-year-old terror, to be able to count on me. And I want him to keep telling everyone that when he grows up, he’ll be the quarterback on my team — even though I’ll probably be retired by then.

  And I want to do all of those things with a partner at my side.

  A woman.

  Hannah turns another page.

  Maybe this woman.

  The light in the room changes, and Hannah’s shoulder shifts beneath my cheek as she lifts her head to look out the window.

  My brows knit. “Why’d the lights go off?”

  It’s still bright in the study room, but the lights beyond our little space have gone out.

  “I think they’re on timers, not sensors,” Hannah answers. “So they shouldn’t… Oh, shit.”

  I lift my head. “What?”

  Hannah keeps staring out the window. “What time is it?”

  With my left arm draped around Hannah’s shoulders, I bend my elbow and twist my wrist so we can both read my watch.

  Ten thirty.

  “I didn’t realize it was so late.” I roll out my shoulders. “Do you have to get going somewhere?”

  Slowly, Hannah turns her face to look up at me.

  “It’s ten thirty.” Her eyes are wide.

  “What happens at ten thirty?” I glance back at the darkened window.

  “Nothing. But the library closed at ten.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  HANNAH

  I shut the book and shove it into my backpack. “Come on.”

  Maddox stands at the same time I do, taking the bag from my hands before I can put it on. He slings it over his shoulder and follows me out into the main part of the library.

  All the overhead lights are off, and it’s dark, but the moon outside sends just enough light through the windows to illuminate our way.

  The library is always quiet, but this is different. And when the study room door slams behind us, it makes me jump.

  Maddox drapes his arm around my shoulders as he moves to walk next to me. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the ghost.”

  I’m pretty sure he’s teasing me. But…

  I glance up at him. “There’s not really a ghost, is there?”

  Maddox pulls me into his side. “I’m just kidding. It’s in one of the science buildings.”

  “Not funny.” I try to keep the smile out of my voice.

  Since the lights are always on during business hours, I haven’t paid attention to any light switches. So I’m not going to bother looking for them now.

  Together, we make our way to the stairs.

  The stairwell is lit with a red Exit sign, so we can see the steps as we take them down, but the darkness waiting for us on the first floor tells me all I need to know.

  Everyone is gone.

  “Huh.” Maddox doesn’t sound concerned.

  He dropped his arm from around my shoulders on the stairs, and I feel his fingers brush mine.

  They brush mine a second time, and I know it’s not an accident.

  Turning my wrist, I let our palms meet, and Maddox wraps his fingers around mine.

  Our steps are quiet on the carpet as we cut between the low shelves and seating areas toward the front doors. The entryway is four doors across, all made of glass, with a small vestibule beyond — home to the vending machine — then there’s another row of glass doors that leads outside.

  Moonlight illuminates the entrance, but the lights there are off too.

  A mixture of anxiety and excitement zings through me as we close the distance.

  And when Maddox stretches his free hand out, I hold my breath.

  His palm connects with the door, and he pushes.

  But it doesn’t budge.

  Because we’ve been locked in.

  THIRTY

  MADDOX

  Next to me, Hannah reaches out with the hand I’m not holding and tries the other door.

  It doesn’t move.

  There are two more doors, so we sidestep over and try them.

  Nothing.

  There has to be another exit, a back door, but if these are closed and the lights are off and no one else is here… Then those doors are locked too.

  I flex my fingers around Hannah’s as we look through the panes of glass. There’s no one.

  No wandering students.

  No custodial staff.

  No security guards in sight.

  Just an empty campus.

  And us. Alone in the library.

  Heat travels up my spine, building in my chest, and I turn to face Hannah.

  THIRTY-ONE

  HANNAH

  Maddox turns beside me.

  It’s just us.

  No one else.

  No one to catch us or see us.

  Swallowing, I press my palm against the cool glass of the door. “We could try to call someone.”

  “We could.” His voice is low. Gruff.

  “But I don’t know who to call,” I whisper.

  “Me either.” Maddox traces his thumb across the back of my hand.

  “Or…” I let the possibilities hang in the air, swirling with the tension between us.

  “I like or,” Maddox says as he tugs on my arm.

  I spin with the movement, turning to face him. And I let go.

  I let go of my inhibitions.

  I let go of the worry that this is all a dream.

  I let go of his hand and throw my arms around his neck.

  Maddox crashes into me. And it reminds me of watching him play yesterday. His big, powerful body full of so much strength and control. But he doesn’t bowl me over. The only destruction he causes tonight is to my senses. To my equilibrium. Throwing my world off balance as his big hands grip my ass and he lifts me into the air.

  There’s no time to think anymore when his mouth finds mine.

  My lips part for him as my legs wrap around his waist.

  He’s so thick, so big, I can’t hook my feet together behind him, so I just dig my heels into his lower back, and his grip on me holds me up.

  “Hannah. Fuck,” he pants into my mouth.

  I consume his words, clawing at the back of his neck, trying to get him closer.

  A growl rumbles through his chest, and he uses his grip on my ass to pull me tighter against him. Against the hardness between my legs.

  I whimper.

  I don’t mean to.

  I just can’t stop myself.

  He just feels so damn good.

  Kissing him earlier was just the start. This. This is different.

  He groans, rolling his hips against me but never pulling his mouth from mine.

  He tastes like the orange Tic Tacs we shared in the study room.

  He feels like the strongest man in the world.

  He makes me want more.

  I pull my mouth away from his, my lips already swollen, to tell him I want more.

  But I’m breathing too heavily to speak.

  And he’s already walking.

  He slides his hands lower until he’s holding me at the very tops of my thighs, right at the bottom curve of my ass, his fingertips so close to my center.

  I curl my hips forward, pressing myself into his length.

  “Fuck.” He shifts me up an inch, then back down.

  The friction makes us both groan.

  “Maddox,” I breathe out.

  “I know, Babe.” He presses his lips to mine. “I’ll take care of it.” Another kiss.

  His words pull a moan out of my throat, and I curl my hips in again.