by Ellen Devlin
“She makes me so fucking angry, and I don’t even have to deal with her.”
“I know. There’s nothing to be done for it, really. She’ll never change unless she stops drinking, and she has no desire to stop drinking. I know that Becca only allows her to see Margot very sparingly and then never without supervision. And then she and Margot have a debriefing session afterward.”
Liz shook her head. “Well, that’s good to know. But Paige, Becca was always kind of better about handling the criticism than you were. I think that’s why your mom focuses so much of her negative energy on you, because it works.”
“I know. I’m still working on it.”
“You are.” She gave Paige a hug. “And you’re doing amazingly well, and I’m so proud of you.”
***
Paige was feeling much better by the time Chris arrived, and Liz was pleasantly surprised that Zee was with him; Paige had forgotten to mention he was tagging along as another stray.
“My whole family is in Alberta,” he said, “but we Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving on the correct day. Second Monday of October, as God intended.”
“You complaining?” Liz asked. “Because it sounds like you already had Thanksgiving this year, so you could just head on home.” She started pushing him back toward the door.
“No! Not complaining!” Zee laughed. “Don’t send me away without food! This smells amazing, Paige.”
Dinner was wonderful, and the four of them lingered, enjoying too much food and wonderful company, until it was time for Chris and Zee to head out. The team was traveling in the morning, the start of another road trip.
Chapter Sixteen
When the team was back in town again, Chris drove straight to his apartment. They had spoken the night before, so he knew Paige would be there. She was waiting for him, perched on the edge of his desk, legs crossed, reading a book.
“Hey, baby, I missed you,” he said as he closed the door behind him.
She looked up from the book she was reading and peered at him over her glasses.
Glasses?
She put a finger to her shiny red lips, said, “Shhhhh,” and turned back to her book.
Chris’s mouth quirked into a grin as he took a moment to really look at her. Paige had her hair up in a slightly disarrayed bun, and in addition to the glasses she was wearing a tight pencil skirt, hose, and sexy pumps…and a tight cardigan sweater unbuttoned too far with what appeared to be a black lace bra peeking out from underneath.
Chris made a sound that could only be described as a soft growl, and Paige struggled to keep her stern demeanor while continuing to study her book.
“You look so hot.”
“Shhhh!” She repeated her admonishment and added, “This is a library!” in a whisper with what was supposed to be a harsh glare. It almost succeeded, but Chris was now standing next to her, and his presence was more distracting than she had anticipated. He was warm—she could feel the heat flowing from his body—and his breathing had already picked up.
“Oh,” he whispered quietly, his mouth close enough to her neck that she could feel his breath. “I’m sorry,” he breathed into her ear. “Can you help me find something, miss?”
Paige sat up straight, closed her book, and uncrossed her legs.
“Of course, sir,” she replied, standing up in a way that accentuated the shortness of her skirt.
Chris thought he caught a glimpse of the top of a stocking but wasn’t sure. Just the idea added to the already rapid blood flow to his groin. As did looking down the open front of Paige’s sweater as she stood in front of him.
“What are you looking for today?” she asked, pushing her glasses up on her nose.
Chris glanced around his apartment quickly and replied, “Poetry. British poetry.” His voice was rough as he tried to keep to a whisper. “Do you have anything like that?”
“We do,” she replied, briefly taking hold of his tie near the knot and then running her fingers down it. “Please follow me.”
Paige was standing close enough to him that she brushed the front of his suit pants as she turned, and she smiled to herself when she felt the hard bulge underneath and heard his quick intake of breath.
Walking slowly, with a sway that emphasized every curve, Paige made her way over to the big bookshelf near the window. She took her time, first reaching up over her head standing on her toes, which pulled the cardigan up and exposed her midriff. Chris was standing close behind her and ran his hands softly across the exposed skin.
Paige turned her head and said quietly, “Sir, please, keep your hands to yourself while I find your book,” and grinned to herself again at the resulting sound of aroused frustration.
She continued perusing the bookshelf, bending over at the waist to look closely at the book bindings, which allowed the back of the tight skirt to lift over the tops of the stockings, showing the garters that held them up.
The groan from Chris was loud enough to allow her to shush him again, turning from her bent position, causing more exposure.
As she reached the lowest shelf, she got down on her knees, spreading her legs slightly, hitching the skirt higher on her thighs to make room. Tilting the compilation of English poetry from the shelf, she asked over her shoulder, “Is this what you were looking for?”
Chris knelt down behind her, one knee between her legs, and said, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m looking for,” as he ran his hands up the outsides of her thighs, moving her skirt even higher.
“Are you sure, sir?” Paige’s voice was a breathy whisper, and she gasped as his hands now came over her skirt and up over her sweater to cup her breasts.
“Are there other books that might be better than that one?” he asked into her ear as he tweaked her nipples through her clothing.
Paige could feel his swollen arousal pressed against her, and the insistent throbbing between her own thighs was making it more difficult to keep up the conversation.
“Possibly.”
“Then please keep looking.” Paige felt him smile against her neck as she shuddered from the nipple play.
She made a point of “looking,” whispering the titles and authors of each book across the shelf. Chris had now backed up a bit and had pulled her skirt even higher.
“Isn’t it customary for librarians to wear panties?” he asked, his hands having reached her hips.
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
“Then it seems you might be somewhat of an unconventional librarian, as it appears that you are wearing none.”
“Yes, sir.”
She lost track of what he was doing for a moment, and was going to turn, when she felt his hands wrap around her thighs as he moved his head under her, between her legs, lying face up on the floor. Paige gasped at the sudden feel of his hair brushing her inner thighs and panted as he gently blew on her swollen lips.
“You are absolutely not wearing panties, miss.”
She whimpered loudly as he placed one kiss on her labia.
“Shhhhh.” He had his face near her skin so that she would feel the sound. “This is a library. You need to stay quiet.”
And then he pulled her down onto his mouth.
Paige gripped the bookshelf as she moved against his hot, teasing, oh-so-talented mouth, unable to keep still, and unable to keep entirely quiet, as he drove her to distraction.
But he wasn’t trying to take her over the edge. He was trying to bring her to the edge and keep her there.
And he was succeeding.
Paige moved against him more desperately and had given up trying to be quiet. She reached down with one hand and gripped his hair.
“Chris, please,” she panted and then made a sound of desperate frustration as he pushed away from her, slid back out between her legs, and moved into position behind her.
“Put your hands back on the bookcase and don’t move.” He rasped the instructions into her ear as he unzipped and pushed his pants and boxers down.
Heart pounding, hips shifting in de
sperate need, Paige complied. Her moan mixed with his low groan as he slid into her from behind, all the way in on the first thrust, and then held there.
“Now,” he said, reaching around to stroke her clit with his fingers, “don’t make a sound. This is a library, miss.”
Paige disappeared, transformed into hot, wet bliss as Chris thrust deeply into her again and again, circling his fingers in a rhythm with his hips. She tried to comply with his request for silence. She pressed back against him, trying to take him even deeper, feeling the pressure building, spreading underneath her skin, ready to envelop her entire being.
He lost himself in her, his breath hot against the back of her neck as he bent to be closer to her, even in this moment of complete intimacy. The pulsing rhythm of their joining increased, and he felt the rush of impending climax.
“Oh God, baby.” He couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “Oh God, I can’t wait. I can’t wait any more, Paige.” With one rough final thrust, he emptied himself into her, hearing her cry out her own release, and said, “Oh God, I love you, Paige.”
Chris held her close to his body, holding her up, his arms wrapped around her from behind.
“I love you, baby,” he murmured into her hair. “I love you so much.”
“Chris…”
It sounded almost like a sob, and he quickly turned her, moving to see her face. Her eyes were bright, and her bottom lip was trembling.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m okay.” She smiled and moved to put a hand against his cheek. “I promise, Chris,” she said to reassure him as he looked so worried. “Sometimes, I get a little teary, after…well,” she shook her head, suddenly feeling a little shy, “after a really intense orgasm.”
Chris let out his breath. “Oh.”
He relaxed some, and she smiled at him, even though there were a few tears leaking from her eyes and her bottom lip still trembled a bit.
“So this is a good thing?” He still looked a little confused and concerned.
Paige gave a small laugh and said, “Yes, it’s a good thing.” Gathering her courage, she took a breath and added, “It’s more likely to happen when there’s a really deep emotional connection.”
Chris felt the muscles in his chest contract, waiting for her next words.
Paige reached up to pull him to her for a kiss and whispered, “I love you too, Chris.”
He felt a rush of adrenaline, his heart racing from hearing her say those words, and their kiss was tender as they lingered in the afterglow.
Chris finally brushed her hair away from her face; the bun had come undone sometime during their activities; he didn’t remember when. Holding her face in his hands, he kissed the tears away from her eyes and then stood, ready to pick her up to take her to bed, only to realize that his pants were around his ankles. Paige laughed, trying to get up off the floor, unsteady on the high heels, and ended up on her rear on the floor again.
He grinned at her and said, “This is the part the romantic movies don’t show…the aftermath.” Bending down to retrieve his pants before giving her a hand up off the floor, he said, “There’s just no way to be manful and sexy when trying to pull up your pants.”
“Also no way to gracefully stand up off the floor in a tight skirt and heels.” Once standing she pulled the skirt down over her hips, smoothing it down. “At least, I’ve never figured out how to do it.”
Chris pulled her to him, saying, “Thank you, Paige. That was…unbelievable. Incredible.” He pushed back from her to look at her face. “Mind-blowing sex.” Pausing to cup one hand on her cheek, he added quietly, “And I meant every word. I love you.”
“I meant it too, Chris. I love you.”
They kissed for a moment more before Paige pushed back, stroking his chest, and teased, “And damn, big guy. I’ll be your sexy librarian any time you want.”
***
When Chris came out of the bedroom the next morning, the sight that greeted him was Paige, wearing his dress shirt from the night before, hair down and slightly sleep-ruffled, in his kitchen cooking breakfast. The feelings almost overwhelmed him as he stood in the doorway. She looked over her shoulder, smiled, and said, “Good morning,” and it was as if every dream of domestic bliss he ever had was materializing in front of his eyes.
The feeling was so powerful he took a moment before responding, almost unwilling to risk breaking the spell.
“Good morning, baby.” He moved behind her and put his arms around her. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”
She smiled a bit shyly and said, “I hope you don’t mind that I grabbed your shirt. It smells like you, and it made me feel good this morning.”
“Are you kidding?” He slid his hands up to cup her breasts from behind. “I love seeing you in my shirt. It’s that caveman possessive thing again.” He tweaked her nipples gently and started to run his hands down to her thighs.
“Hang on, big guy, or you’ll have burned pancakes.” Paige shimmied out of his grasp. She looked back over her shoulder at him and added, “Besides, there’s plenty of time after breakfast.”
Chris made a grumph sound and retreated to the table.
For a few minutes he just watched her and then said, “Paige, baby, will you please come to Minnesota with me at Christmas? I want you to meet my mom.”
She turned around and stared at him.
“I’m sorry, I should have asked sooner. I know that. I think I was nervous that you might say no. And now I’ve waited long enough that I know you might already have other plans. It would only be for a quick up-and-back trip; we only have those few days right at Christmas where we don’t play any games.”
She stared at him a moment longer then hurriedly turned to flip a pancake that was starting to get overdone.
“I don’t know, Chris.” She said it quietly, focused on the stove.
The tone of her voice made him get up to come closer. He leaned against the counter and watched her, trying to see her face.
“Do you have other plans?”
Pause. “No.”
He touched her under her chin to look at him. Her eyes were a little too bright.
He asked quietly, “Is this about your mother?”
Another pause and then, “Maybe. Probably.”
He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead before sitting back down at the table.
“My mom is amazing, Paige. She’s been my biggest supporter my whole life. She’s dying to meet you, because she knows how much you mean to me.”
Paige flipped the last pancake onto the platter and walked the food over to the table. When she sat down, Chris took her hand, encouraging her to look at him. Her face showed her anxiety.
“Baby,” he said, “I don’t know what your mom says to you, but I can guarantee you, one hundred percent, not one doubt in my mind, that my mom will love you.”
Her mouth curved a little in the right direction.
“How can you possibly know that?”
Chris shook his head and chuckled. “Really? Paige, I love you. And, if I remember our conversation last night,” she smiled at the memory, “then you love me too. Being with you makes me incredibly happy.” He took her other hand and said, “And that’s what my mom wants for me.”
Paige blinked.
“Really?”
Chris leaned over and kissed her gently. “Really. So please come with me at Christmas.”
“Okay,” she said and then smiled gently. “Thank you. I would love to meet your mom.”
“Perfect. I’ll make all the arrangements. Now, I’m gonna eat these pancakes before they get cold, because the smell is making my stomach growl.” He wolfed down a huge forkful of pancake and then said, “Oh, and I’m going to take you to visit my best friend too. I’m pretty sure he still might think I’m making you up. Or at least exaggerating.”
Chapter Seventeen
“I bought a house.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” Micky’s voice c
onveyed to Chris every bit of the surprise that he was feeling. “When?”
“I closed on it two days ago.”
Chris was finding it a little hard to believe too. The opportunity had presented itself, and he had jumped on it. The right price, great neighborhood, and everything he was looking for. The agent he was working with came highly recommended by his teammates, and everything had just fallen into place like it was meant to be.
He told Micky, “It’s pretty cool. Four bedrooms, three and a half baths, and a pool.”
“A pool? Really?”
“Yeah, man. It actually gets hot here in the summer. People go swimming. It’s a thing.”
Micky was having a hard time imagining Chris being a homeowner. “This is crazy. When did you start house hunting? And, no offense, but why?” Before Chris could answer, Micky added, “Oh, shit, is this because of Paige? Are you going to tell me you bought a house for her?” Chris was quiet for a moment, and Micky said, “Holy shit, you did. I can’t fucking believe it. Becks, did you have her pick it out? Or is this something else she doesn’t know about? Like the fact that you’re planning on marrying her?”
“Hey, a house is an excellent investment. Maybe I’m just starting to act like a grown-up, you asshole.” There wasn’t any real heat behind his words.
“Damn.” Chris could hear Micky laughing under his breath. “I’m going to have to meet this woman who’s turning you into a responsible adult without even realizing it. Are you still planning on bringing her for Christmas?”
“Yes, definitely. I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s smart and kind. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?”
Micky chuckled, saying, “You might have mentioned that detail. Once or twice. So, when are you going to tell her about this house?”
“I’m going to call her after I talk with you. There’s no furniture, and the stuff from my apartment would fill like a room and a half, so I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to handle any of this.”
Micky thought for a moment and said, “You could hire someone to furnish it. Like an interior designer or something like that. However that works. Although I wouldn’t have the first idea how to go about finding one.” He laughed out loud. “It’s not like I have any interest in become a responsible adult any time soon. You’re on your own with that shit.”
