Broken Resolutions

by Olivia Dade

  She picked up a fluffy parka and began to thread her arms through the sleeves. He took over, holding it for her and settling it around her shoulders.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling at him.

  His heart turned over in his chest. The parka dwarfed her petite frame, making her seem even smaller than she already was. She looked adorable. His arms itched with the desire to hold her, squeeze her through the inches of down and weatherproof fabric. But he held off, knowing they needed to leave the library before he did something he’d regret.

  “No problem.” He searched for his own coat, finally locating it slung over a chair near the library door. “How does Sallie’s Diner sound for food?”

  She shrugged, zipping up the parka. “Fine.”

  “I’ll follow you to the restaurant. I want to make sure you get there safely, since the roads look ugly.”

  He dug in the pocket of his coat where he usually kept his truck keys. Not there. Not in the other coat pocket, either. Turning out his jeans’ pockets, he unearthed his wallet, a plastic-wrapped mint, and a tissue. Still no keys.

  “Problem?” she asked.

  “I can’t find my damn keys.” Frustrated, he looked around the library, searching for somewhere he could conceivably have left them. “I just don’t know where else they could be.”

  “Maybe your mom took them accidentally?” she suggested. “Do you want to call her?”

  “Good idea.” He took out his cell and tapped the screen a few times. As soon as his mother answered the call, he started talking. “Hey, Mom, I was wondering—”

  “This is not a good time, John McKenzie Williamson,” Brenda said, her tone stern. “I’m busy.”

  “But—”

  “If you’re trying to convince me not to have sex with Carl, you’re too late. He’s a speedy old devil.” Jack heard a low masculine chuckle in the background. “Good, though. Very good.”

  He shuddered. “No. That’s not why I called. Please, for the love of God, don’t tell me more. I just can’t find my keys. Did you grab them by accident?”

  “No,” Brenda said. “Are you still at the library?”

  “Yes. And not likely to be going anywhere else unless I find the damn keys.” He sighed. “I’ll call Roadside Assistance. Sorry to bother you.”

  “No problem. I hope you find your keys and get home safely. Love you, honey. But unless you’re bleeding to death or on fire, don’t call again.” Brenda hung up on him.

  Shaking his head, he looked around the library for Penelope. Where had she gone?

  He heard a door slam, and then she returned to the workroom. Her flats and parka were covered with snow, and she was shivering.

  “Why did you go outside without me?” he asked, pulling her into his arms. He rubbed his hands up and down her back through the fluffy coat, trying to warm her.

  “I wanted to get my car started so it would be less cold by the time we left. And I was going to clear off some of the snow from the windshield and side windows.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

  “I’d have cleaned your car,” he said. “There’s no need for you to catch a chill. Your shoes and dress are pretty, but they’re not going to keep you warm in a snowstorm.” He took her cold, stiff fingers and sandwiched them between his own warm hands.

  When she huddled closer to him, he smiled. “I have to admit, though, you were extremely quick about it. I only talked to Mom for a minute. You’re little, but you’re fast.”

  “Thanks.” She raised her head from his chest. Snow had melted on her face, making her cheeks shine and her lashes spike. He brushed the wetness away, patting her face dry with the sleeve of his sweater.

  “Better?” He saw her nod, and then he pulled her close again.

  “Yes,” she said, her face hidden against his chest again. “But there’s something you should know. My car wouldn’t start. I think my battery died. That’s why I came back so quickly.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. Look, I’ll just call Roadside Assistance and get them to help me with my keys. Maybe they can give you a jump start, too.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “It’s not a problem. I’ll take care of you.” He bent his head and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call them now. Have you warmed up enough?”

  She nodded and moved away from him. Her shoulders seemed stiff, even through the inches of feathers surrounding them. Lines furrowed her brow, as if she were worried.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “It’ll be okay. Trust me.”

  She gave him a tight smile. Concerned, he almost drew her back into his arms, but he stopped himself at the last moment. If he held her again, he might not be able to let go. And if they wanted to leave the library tonight, he needed to get help for them soon.

  He took his cell phone out again and called the service. After ten minutes on hold, he finally talked to someone. Five minutes after that, he hung up and roughly scrubbed his face with his hands. “Fuck.”

  She laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s frustrating, Jack. But it makes sense. We’re in a warm building with food and plumbing, and they need to rescue people stuck in the snow without heat or supplies. I’m sure it’s even worse than a normal snowstorm for them, given all the people coming home late from New Year’s Eve parties.”

  “I know,” he said.

  And he did know. At least, he knew why they couldn’t come out to help him until the morning. What he didn’t know was how exactly he was supposed to resist Penelope, since they were apparently going to spend the night together. Alone.

  She was looking up at him with a wide, sunny smile on her face. “Let’s eat something,” she said. “And then we’ll figure out where to sleep tonight. I think we can make some sort of bed out of the stuffed animals on the floor of the children’s area. I’m afraid the library doesn’t have any blankets, though, and we’re not allowed to reset the thermostat. So we may have to huddle for warmth. I hope that’s okay.”

  His cock jumped at the thought, and he stifled a groan.

  “It’s fine,” he gritted out.

  She walked to the little refrigerator and held out her hand to him, beckoning him to follow her. “We’ll just have to make the best of it,” she said. “Let’s eat and get to know each other better, like you wanted. The good news is that we have all the time and privacy in the world.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of, he thought. But he gave her his hand and let her pull him to the refrigerator.

  She opened the door and perused the contents. “Champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries. What could be more romantic?” Plucking the nearest berry from the tray, she held it in front of his mouth. “Here. Have one.”

  Unable to figure out what else to do, he bit. The sweet fruit and rich chocolate burst on his tongue, and he chewed in silence. He looked down at her, so close to him. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was watching his lips. Intently.

  He swallowed hard, and not because of the strawberry in his mouth.

  I’m fucked, he thought. I’m totally fucked.

  9

  God, I want to fuck him, Penelope thought, looking up at Jack’s handsome, strained face.

  Part of her wanted to tell him so, right now. No prevarications. No attempts to protect herself from rejection. Just honesty and desire.

  Well, mostly just honesty. She glanced toward her filing cabinet, where the keys to his truck currently hid. That filing cabinet sat near the exit to the employee parking lot, where her perfectly functional car, with its perfectly functional battery, sat waiting for her. But she didn’t want to go to a restaurant, where they’d be surrounded by dozens of people. She didn’t want to share his attention or play it safe. She wanted to take a risk and gamble on Jack being everything he seemed to be. Everything she wanted.

  He’d told her she could trust herself, trust him. He’d said he wanted her, and the bulge in his pants seemed to confirm that claim. So even though part of her h
eart—the part scarred by the past year of lying, cheating boyfriends—was screaming at her to hold back, to proceed with her normal caution, she ignored it. And even though lying to him had pained her, she’d done it anyway.

  Because she wanted him. Tonight. Now.

  So she told him.

  “I take it back. I don’t give a damn about the food. I don’t want to eat. I want to go make a bed out of that huge stuffed giraffe, the crocodile, and the ladybug from the children’s area. Maybe the duck too. Then I want you to strip out of your clothes, take mine off, and fuck me. Then we can have a snack. After that, maybe we can fuck again.”

  His mouth dropped open, even as the tenting at the front of his pants grew more obvious.

  “What—” he sputtered. “What happened to the shy librarian I met earlier tonight?”

  “I’m just shy in groups, like most introverts. Besides, you said I could trust my own instincts and that you were the man for me. Were you lying?”

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No,” he said. “But don’t you want to get to know me better before we make love?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “So let me ask you some questions. Do you want me?”

  “God, yes,” he said fervently.

  “Will you still want me in the morning, even if we sleep together?”

  “I don’t see myself ever not wanting you.”

  “Do you plan on hurting me, either physically or emotionally?”

  “Never,” he vowed. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

  “Do you have condoms?”

  He reached into his wallet, emerging with two foil packages. They looked like they’d been sitting in his wallet for a long, long time. He squinted at them in the dim light. When he looked up, his expression seemed caught between anticipation and anxiety.

  “Not expired,” he said. “If we decide to do this, we’ll be safe.”

  “Sold,” she said. “Let’s go make a bed out of stuffed animals.” Turning on her heel, she headed for the children’s area. As she walked, she peeled off her parka and dropped it to the floor.

  He followed slowly behind her. By the time he made it to her side, she’d already pushed the creatures into a mattress-like pile.

  “There,” she said, kicking off her shoes. “All the comforts of home. Assuming your bed at home features a beak and a long snout.”

  He stood very still, looking down at the makeshift mattress with his fists propped on his slim hips. His eyes closed briefly, and he took a deep breath. Oh, no, she thought. Have I gotten this all wrong?

  “Jack,” she said softly. “I don’t mean to push you into doing something you don’t want. We don’t have to have sex tonight. We don’t even have to stay here. I’m sure if we look harder around the library, we’ll be able to find your keys.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to make love with you.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, a gesture she was beginning to recognize. He only did it when he was stressed. “I just don’t want you to regret doing it tonight. Either tomorrow morning, or anytime in the future.”

  “I won’t,” she said. “But the decision is yours.”

  “Only so much temptation a man can take,” he muttered.

  With those words, he laid both hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around, facing her away from him.

  “Jack? What are you—” she started to ask.

  Then she felt the zipper on the back of her dress begin to slide down. Slowly. Agonizingly slowly. She could hear the rasp of the teeth as they separated, feel the cool air against the newly exposed skin of her back. His mouth followed the descending zipper, pressing soft kisses down the length of her spine. She shivered.

  “Cold?” he said, his voice low. Soft.

  “No,” she said. “Just excited.”

  At her answer, she felt him smile against the small of her back. He gave her one final kiss there, and then straightened.

  “Up over your head? Or down your legs?”

  “I’m so scrawny, it works either way,” she said.

  His hands gripped her shoulders firmly as he turned her around. “Not scrawny. Slim. Petite. Lovely.” He gathered the hem of her dress and began tugging upward. “Arms up, Penelope.”

  Obediently, she raised her arms, and he carefully pulled the dress over her head. For a moment, darkness enfolded her as fabric covered her face. When she could see again, when her dress lay spread over the turtle chair, she noticed that his eyes had changed. They held no anxiety. No lines of tension fanned out from their corners. Now they looked at her with carnal intent and a determined heat she could barely believe. He scanned her body from the top of her hair to the tips of her bare toes.

  “God, you’re sexy,” he said, reaching out one hand to smooth slowly down her arm. “Your skin is so soft. And your body is beautiful. More beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

  Her eyes closed at the rush of pleasure she felt from his words. From his touch. She felt his finger gently trace the skin above her plain white bra, and then sweep up to stroke her collarbone and neck. “If I’d known this would happen, I wouldn’t have worn my boring cotton underwear tonight.”

  “You don’t need to put on a show for me to want you,” he told her. “Besides, in about a minute, you won’t be wearing your underwear anymore.”

  Her belly clenched, and she felt herself grow wet. His hands were sweeping in arcs down the sides of her body now, warming her. Accustoming her to his touch.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispered. “I want to see your reaction when I touch you here”—he cupped her breasts, brushing his thumbs over her cotton-covered nipples—“and here.” One of his hands stroked down her belly, and he slid it between her legs. He cupped her there too, claiming her with tender possessiveness.

  Her breath caught, and she stared helplessly at him.

  “Feel good?” he asked, but didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he bent down so his mouth closed over her nipple. His tongue wet the material, sliding over her sensitive peak and making it harden. Then he gently sucked, and her back arched. She could feel the tug of his mouth all the way down to where his hand still rested. The suction made her squirm and push herself harder against that hand.

  When he removed both his hand and his mouth, she gave a whimper of protest.

  “Take off your bra and panties,” he said.

  She obeyed, unhooking her bra with shaky fingers and letting it drop to the floor. Before she could lose her nerve, she quickly finished undressing, skimming her panties down her legs and kicking them aside. His eyes held hers the entire time, never dropping below her face until she stood before him completely naked.

  Shoulders back, she thought. Don’t hide yourself. He said he wanted you, and here you are. Give him a chance to look.

  He did, slowly tracing over every subtle dip and curve of her body with his eyes. “Jesus,” he rasped. “Just the sight of you is fucking killing me. I’m telling you now, I’ll probably last about ten seconds inside you.”

  “Then we’d better play before you get there,” she said, his words filling her with renewed confidence. “Strip, Jack.”

  Without another word, he yanked his sweater and T-shirt over his head, then kicked off his boots and hurriedly unbuttoned his jeans.

  “No, no,” she admonished as he started to pull them down. “I’ll do this part.”

  She slid her hands inside his waistband and under his briefs. Grabbing a hold of both layers, she started lowering them down his legs, stroking his hair-roughened skin with her knuckles as she went. When he’d stepped out of his remaining clothing, she slowly stood back up. Along the way, she stroked her hands up his calves, past his thighs, and to his ass. She paused there to squeeze the muscular, rounded flesh. He shuddered, and she could see his cock grow even harder.

  Her hands slid around to his abdomen and chest. She nudged the flat discs of his nipples with her fingertips, and then nipped at each of them with her teeth.

&
nbsp; “Touch me,” he said, his voice strained.

  “I am touching you.” She gave him a teasing smile, which he didn’t return.

  “Touch my cock. Please.”

  She surrounded him with her hands, marveling at how hot he felt. How hard. His hands closed over hers, showing her how he liked to be stroked, where he was most sensitive. A bead of moisture welled at the tip of his cock, and she dipped her head to lick the salty drop away. At that, his hips bucked toward her, and he made a rough sound deep in his throat.

  Then he took her hands in his, bringing them to his mouth. He placed a kiss on each palm, and then placed both firmly at her sides. “No more,” he said. “Or else I’ll disgrace myself.”

  As he urged her down onto the stuffed animals, she hesitated.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I’ve seen what the kids do to those animals.” She frowned. “For that matter, I’ve seen what adults do to them, at least the poor giraffe. I’m not sure I want to be naked on them. My ass might fall off from some rare disease.”

  “Ah. That would be a tragedy.” He looked around, and then strode for the snack table. Removing the platters of dried fruit, he claimed the tablecloth with a triumphant grin. He brought it back to their makeshift bed, spreading it over the creatures. “Better?”

  “Much. And now they’re not looking at us anymore, either,” she said.

  He laughed.

  “Speaking of looking,” she added, “you walked naked in front of about a million windows just now. We’d better hope no one else was out and about near the library, or else the police will be arriving soon.”

  “As long as we come before they come, I don’t give a fuck,” he told her. He lowered her down onto the tablecloth-covered animals.

  “Fair enough,” she said, and then gasped as he spread her legs and knelt between them.

  His mouth covered hers, his tongue immediately sweeping inside. It muffled her moan as his hand returned to her heat. Without her panties blocking the sensation, the feel of his fingers sliding through her wet flesh electrified her.