The Watched (New Adult Erotica)

by Kira Cox

  Author's Note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years or older.

  Synopsis

  Rumor has it that the library's haunted, and tonight, curvy Chloe the librarian is left alone with the lights off. Even though she promised herself she'd keep her hands off sexy security guard Slade, the pitch black has her shaken and scared—and rethinking her no-more-men policy.

  Slade's not scared, though. In fact, he's got something between the stacks he wants Chloe to check out in the basement. Just wait till she sees the mystery he's got stashed behind the shelves! 4,000 words

  * * *

  By Kira Cox

  Copyright © 2013, Kira Cox

  All rights reserved.

  My phone chirped from my purse, and I groaned at the familiar ring tone. I was never getting out of here tonight. As I answered, I kicked off my strappy black sandals. Just because I work in a library doesn't mean I have to live up to the cliche of the dumpy librarian.

  I slumped into the deep leather couch, my feet propped on the coffee table. I had about three dozen books left to shelve before I could call it a night and head home to my favorite pajamas and a glass of red.

  The familiar voice of my best friend Abby filled my ear.

  "Did you get yourself a piece of that sexy man meat yet?" Mmmmm. Slade. At the mention, I stopped short. My fingers caressed the spine of a book of anatomy—and a sizzle of fire shot straight to my core.

  At six three, the sexy security guard towered over my curvy five foot three frame. The midnight blue uniform he wore hugged his muscular torso and the flat planes of his stomach, and he always carried a trace of dark stubble across his jaw.

  My boss Charlie had introduced us briefly at last month's staff meeting. I smiled in greeting, holding out a hand, and Slade's mahogany eyes raked my form. He grinned wolfishly, shaking my hand like he was testing a ripe peach. His powerful fingers gripped mine, squeezing just a bit, and caressing my soft hand with his thumb.

  And practically every night since, I'd awakened in the middle of the night, thinking of his hands on me, my slit swollen and aching from dreaming of his tongue roaming my ample cleavage.

  But since that promising beginning, we hadn't spoken, our interactions limited to brief nods in the hallways. I thought I felt a spark when we'd met, but he didn't seem interested. Rumor had it that he rarely dated and was a relentless student, spending hours on his forensic science studies when not on shift.

  "Sadly, no." My hand smoothed my black pencil skirt that skimmed my knees and coordinated perfectly with the heels. I'd topped the skirt with a sleeveless, gray silk top with ruffles around the edge that set off my curvy but strong arms. The tight skirt emphasized my wide hips and high, round ass, while the strappy shoes emphasized my shapely calves. I flipped idly through one of the volumes left on the glass coffee table while I cradled my phone to my ear.

  Kama Sutra. Great. Yet another reminder of my unexciting love life. Even the ancient Hindus got more action than me.

  The new job had been a lifesaver when my boyfriend Zeke dumped me last month for a skinny blond skank named Yolanda who worked at his law firm. Things had been rocky for a while. Being told "I just wish you were a little 'healthier' "—code word for a size 4—felt like a real kick in the teeth. My self-esteem had definitely taken a nose dive.

  "Well, what are you waiting for?" Abby persisted. When it came to guys, Abby did not mess around. In the three years, we'd been roommates and best friends, she'd rotated through a series of boyfriends, each hotter than the last. My reluctance to throw myself at the aloof Slade was a major confusion to her.

  "I do need my job, you know. I can't just accost him in the hallway at work." Well, I could. I definitely didn't have a problem with that per se. In fact, the very thought of it made me squirm with desire.

  "Why the hell not?"

  The lights on the entire floor clicked off suddenly, pitching the room into utter dark. What was that? I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise as I grabbed my shoes.

  "Abs, I gotta go. I'll call you later." I cut her off, but kept my phone on for its feeble light. I groped my way toward my desk.

  Center College Library offered everything I wanted in a career—great pay, autonomy, and super-hot security guards. But when it came to electrical infrastructure, the place was seriously lacking. The circuits overloaded at least once a week, and my employee orientation involved a tour of the basement lounge, which housed the library fuse box.

  Fishing a flashlight out of my top desk drawer, I headed into the pitch-black corridor toward the downstairs lounge. The small beam cast a shadowy glow along my path.

  I rubbed my nose absently, the dust dancing in the flashlight beam. Creepy, I thought. Wouldn't want to get stuck down here on Halloween. I felt a whisper of cold air as I made my way down the stairs. Some old-school decorator had thought the sepia photos of college administrators gone by looked intellectual. To me, the ancient faces smiling down in the dark were giving me a serious complex.

  Lined floor to ceiling with shelves and dusty books, the lounge was more like a rabbit hole. From the entrance I could see six doorways ahead of me, stacked up like nesting dolls. A popular spot for study groups, this lower level had a floor-to-ceiling brick fireplace, usually cold and unlit. But tonight the fireplace in the room toward the back of the lounge sparked warmly tonight and cast shadowy fingers against the book covered walls.

  I wandered through the entrance, clutching the flash light, trying to remember the exact location of the fuse box. No easy task, considering the lack of lighting. Even the fire barely lit the place. My hand crept along the nearest wall, feeling for the metal of the fuse door.

  As I passed through the doorway nearest the fireplace, a squealing scrape of a chair against the floor sounded a few feet away. I froze, alarm spiking my heart rate, which beat so hard I thought it would explode out of my chest.

  I felt the air stir behind me, and a muscular hand grabbed my shoulder.

  I swung around in shock, flashlight poised like a weapon, and the hand dropped from my arm. Slade's drop-dead sexy form greeted me, his hip propped against the side of a shelf, his navy uniform straining against the muscles of his shoulders and the strong sweep of his muscular thighs and ass.

  Jesus. My heart felt like a hammer in my chest.

  "What the hell, Slade? Are you in the habit of scaring girls in the dark?"

  "Just the pretty ones." He smirked, crossing his arms.

  "Shouldn't you be checking every corner, looking for intruders, restoring the electricity, that sort of thing?" Whipping out his night stick and handcuffs? Wait—he didn't carry handcuffs. That was just my dream from last night, him pinning me against my desk upstairs. My arms locked and unable to move while he ravaged me with his tongue, his body.

  Focus, Chloe, focus.

  Still smirking, Slade eyed me. His gaze raked my curvy form from top to bottom, and a tiny smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he took in the view of my chest in the tight, feminine top.

  He turned to face me. "Nice of you to show up, Chloe. I've been waiting all day."

  "Wuh—what?" Now I was confused. Scared, confused, and a little helpless, a feeling not normally in my repertoire. The librarian's job is to know her way around the stacks, and I felt like I was caught up in a game for which I had no clue of the rules.

  "Do you know what the students do down here, Chloe?"

  "Study?" I played dumb. I'd heard the rumors. The lower level was a sex cave for horny couples, basically.

  This conversation had me reeling. His proximity and the dark room felt uncomfortably intimate. Just like in my dreams, the sight of him made my core pulse with excitement, but I'd been burn
ed before. I was suspicious.

  He chuckled, a throaty rolling wave that echoed. Slade closed the gap between us, so close now that I could smell his scent—clean sweat and male. I could feel the desire pool in my center as I met his ochre eyes, suspicion abandoned as he traced the edge of my silk top with a long finger.

  "You're such an innocent."

  Embarrassment flooded my face at the barb. The helpless feeling disappeared, and the suspicious one grew.

  "How do you know? You've hardly spoken to me since we've met," I countered.

  He chuckled deeply, the sound resonating through his broad chest. "Just giving you a chance to check me out," he said. "I don't make a habit of this."

  "That's a relief. A habit of what?" I shot back sarcastically.

  He dipped closer to me, his lips pressed against my ear, my irritation over his familiarity dissolving into the ether. "Rumor has it the ghost of two lovers haunt this room, lovers who died in each other's arms after incredible ecstasy. When you fuck here, you're guaranteed a night of pleasure like you've never known."

  Was he looking for a reaction? I felt a reaction. His sensual, frank words had my nipples pebbling under my shirt.

  "So you don't bring girls here every week then?" I was no prude, but I was out of my league with this conversation. I didn't care if the lights were off. They could stay off until tomorrow for all I cared. I wasn't a toy. I wasn't to be played with.

  Slade grabbed my chin and forced my eyes to his. The pad of his thumb reached out to the silken sweep of my bottom lip, rubbing in a slow, sensuous rhythm against my mouth.

  My breath came faster, and my nipples strained under the lace of my bra. He shot his eyes to my breasts, noticing my arousal, and smiled again, a flash of white perfect teeth in the lamplit room.

  "Nope. And I don't believe in ghosts, either," he said. "But do you believe I want to touch you?"

  The sensations of him, rubbing my lip while speaking in lustful tones, caught me off guard. I wanted to run away, pissed at his assumption that I could be so easily tricked. But my body betrayed me. I squirmed at his touch on my mouth. Without thinking I reached out my tongue, dragging his thumb into my mouth and sucking.

  The action seemed to ignite him, and wordless, he grabbed my wrists, pinning them on the shelf above my head while he ground his hips against mine. His velvety lips and tongue licked at my collarbone and traced a heated trail to my neck, his warm breath a fuel that fanned the flame in my center.

  The spines of the books, the metal shelving pressed sharply into my back, but I didn't care. His hands were everywhere—tracing a feathery trail down my arms, caressing my throat, caressing the curve of my ass.

  I could feel a moan building inside me as his tongue assaulted my mouth. The feeling of being pinned against the shelf was overwhelmingly primal, and I felt weightless, boneless as he dropped my arms and grabbed the back of my neck to probe my mouth deeper.

  Was this really happening to me? The dreams I'd had of him were illicit, dreams of someone who existed but one-dimensionally for me. But this was real. At least I thought it was real.

  Reality vanished as he traced a fevered path from my lips to my chest. His hand reached up to cover my breast, his fingers pinching delicately at my nipple through the lace cloth.

  Then he rubbed the tender peak, the minute sensations of pain reversed into frissons of pleasure that sent a jolt of moisture to my wet slit.

  "The scent of your arousal is intoxicating, Chloe," Slade murmured in my ear.

  He pulled away from the pleasurable pinching rhythm to release the top three buttons of my shirt and trace his fingers along the lace of my bra, before sliding the fabric aside and freeing my large, heavy breast. At the motion, he leaned his head back and licked his lips.

  "Mmmmm, you are divine, woman," he murmured before diving his head to my breast, his tongue lashing a sweet rhythm of licking, suckling, and gentle bites. In response, I pushed my hips into him harder.

  His body pinned me in place on his shelf as he assaulted my tits with his tongue, but I ached to skim my hands along his chest. I ground my hips against him, each time I came in contact with this thigh the pressure building more. The pleasure spiraled upward through my body, and my squeaks and moans came louder and louder.

  Slade grabbed my hips and bent me over, his bulging steel insistent against the thin fabric of my skirt. Ancient books crashed to the floor on the shelf above my head, but I didn't open my eyes, just grabbed the shelves for support. The cold metal bit my fingers as the scent of Slade, his forearms coated in sweat from the exertion, pressed against my shoulders. I tuned only to the sensation of his hard cock pressing against my clothed ass, his miraculous fingers tweaking my areolas in a gluttony of sensations.

  "Open your eyes, Chloe," he commanded, and I obeyed. Through the shelves at my eye-level, our fervor pushed the spines to the floor, a scattering of books ringing the carpet. I was close. So close.

  And through the empty shelf space, I saw her.

  "Don't move," his silken voice commanded in my ear. All I could do was look. I'd never even watched a sexy movie, never read a voyeuristic story, but this feeling of being watched pricked my skin. I felt a trickle of pleasure juice slick my entrance at the thought she'd been watching him touch me this whole time.

  In the firelight that illuminated the room, her bare skin glowed. Her head was tossed back and as I watched, her hand slipped up to cup her naked breast and trace a slender finger across the tip of her bud. She was beautiful, a delicate doll who took pleasure from our pleasure. Clad only in high lace-up black heels, her tawny hair tousled and perched atop her head in a loose bun and dark frames settled on her face, she looked like some guy's ultimate fantasy of a naughty librarian. She had long, toned legs and small B-cup breasts that pointed slightly upward. Her dark-tipped areolas glowing in the firelight.

  Watching her skim her hands across her breasts through the emptied shelves proved incredibly arousing. I felt my tightness clench yet again, this time painfully, as my body protested the wait for ecstasy.

  Wrenching my gaze away from her, I turned questioning eyes to Slade. "What's going on?"

  Using his tongue, Slade drew a slick path around the shell of my ear, and the physical sensation coupled with the visual one nearly unwound me.

  "Her name's Maya. She likes to watch. Just watch. Watch and touch herself while I touch you. Do you mind?" Still pressed against my back, he dragged his hand from my knee to the edge of my lace panties, grazing his fingers along the dampened fabric.

  My only response was a trembling groan, a quivering as he slid his long finger the length of my folds, stopping to tease the tense bundle of nerves by my entrance.

  "You know, I knew you wouldn't mind." Shards of pleasure shot through my groin as he lost all hesitation, plunging a thick finger into my slick heat, and the pad of his thumb drew circles around my center and the hardened nerves there. My breath quickened. The overwhelming sensation forced my eyes closed.

  In my line of sight, Maya lowered her green eyes to meet my chestnut ones and propped her foot against a metal footstool, her fingers tracing a figure eight in her dripping tightness, watching me. Against the sensitive skin of my neck, I felt Slade smile.

  Behind me, Slade dropped to his knees, prodding my legs apart and pushing my skirt around the top of my hips. In an instant, my lace panties disappeared, and his velvet tongue lapped at my slit.

  The time for gentleness had gone now; he seemed impatient to please me, to bring me something that no one ever had. He plunged my fiery depths, nipping at my bud gently with his teeth, beating out a tantalizing rhythm of stroke, lick, nibble, stroke. I felt ready to explode, like my legs could no longer hold me. His hands grasped my thighs while his mouth caressed my dark wetness and finally, I could take the pleasure no longer.

  I looked to our voyeur, who took her pleasure by her own hand. Her tempo increased, and along with her, so did I. She smiled knowingly and licked her lips. The movement, the
erotic, sensual wordless tension between us tipped me over the edge of bliss. Just as her aching exploded in ecstasy, thrills of pleasure arched through my body.

  I felt boneless, floating, and I leaned back, exhausted, trying to catch my breath. Inches away, Maya whimpered. This isn't you, Chloe, I thought. But it was—this girl watching me, watching a stranger give me pleasure, was somehow the truest self I'd ever been.

  But Slade wasn't done with me yet. He pulled off his belt and unbuttoned his pants before I stopped him.

  "Let me," I said.

  I popped the button on his trousers, his black, snug-fitting boxers barely containing his girth. I leaned back on my heels briefly as he pushed the boxers to the floor, his silken shaft springing free, before I fell upon him hungrily.

  He tasted of musk and heat, all male. I blazed a fiery trail with my tongue, rounding his heavy testicles first, then a path along the underside of his shaft. His hot erection jumped at the touch of my tongue, and Slade's muscular thighs trembled.

  "Don't stop, Chloe," he mumbled hoarsely, pressing his length into me more fully, the tip of his root probing the back of my throat. Time seemed stop as I licked the shaft, his silken steel so large it filled the entire of my mouth. I reared back and crashed down on his cock again.

  My soft mouth surrounded his entire length while my tongue slid around his width. A bead of his creamy essence crowned his length, and I lapped it up, savoring the salty-sweet flavor of him on the roof of my mouth. Taking my pleasure from his taste seemed to spur him on, and he pumped into my mouth faster and faster. I swallowed deep as he shuddered, shooting his creamy load into my hot, willing mouth. As he shuddered and spasmed, I tongued his balls, sweeping under and over the sensitive skin. I reached out a hand to cup him, my thumb tracing the sensitive vein that contained his manhood.

  No longer able to bear that exquisite pleasure and already hard again from the repeated attentions of my mouth, Slade gasped and hauled me to my feet, grabbing my hips and lifting me up by the waist. I slid down the length of him, my folds already slick and ready from his able tongue and my tense arousal.