The voice broke her thoughts. She froze, hands hovering over the keys comically. She released her held breath, and attempted to appear nonchalant as she moved the mouse, clicked the minimize tab, and watched the document slip into the tool bar.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Logan appeared at her side, leaning on the desk and watching her face, no doubt flushed at this point. She didn’t meet his gaze, her body still and her teeth ravishing her bottom lip. The silence so loud she thought she’d go deaf. She cleared her throat.
“I was, um… experimenting with a scene… for an easy word count,” she was surprised at how calm her voice was, but when he leaned over her, casting his shadow over the keyboard, she felt her heart jump in her throat.
He grabbed the mouse, his chest against the back of her neck, as he clicked the document. It bounced up, her words filling the screen. He hummed in thought while she held her head down, feeling the heat burn her cheeks like never before. Like she was naked in front of him. She felt his body heat rain down on her, making her feel like she was about to break out in a cold sweat.
“When you said you wrote books, I didn’t know you meant this,” he mused. He sounded, unimpressed? She tried to stop her heart from thumping up her throat, to give herself a chance to speak.
“It’s not even a first draft,” she said quickly. “It’s a-a vomit draft, just mindless ramblings… I-I never write this type of stuff,” she stumbled.
“I can tell,” he interrupted, his voice bored.
She stiffened as he scrolled up the document, to the previous scenes. She wanted to smack his hand off the mouse, push him away, and tell him to forget everything he saw…but she couldn’t bring herself to actually do it… because even though it was embarrassing, and heart wrenchingly painful… someone was actually looking at her work for once. And this time, she wasn’t asking them to.
“It’s cute,” he stated, and she felt her nausea ease. “But, it’s not really realistic.” Her embarrassment lifted off her shoulders, just as she turned in her seat.
“It’s fantasy,” she didn’t mean to snap. “It’s not supposed to be realistic,” she rolled her eyes defensively.
“I don’t mean the mythical creatures, or even the shape shifting,” he leaned over her , placing his hands on each side of her chair. Suddenly the large, empty library felt as small as a closet. Logan took up most of her view, his hazel eyes bright between the locks of brunette hair. Her breath hitched for a moment, distracted by the invader of her personal space. His lips twitched at the corners, giving a lop-sided smile. “I meant the romance part,” he teased. “Have you ever made out with someone before?”
She felt her eyebrows nearly jump off her forehead in shock. Was her descriptions really that juvenile? She snorted quickly, pushing him away, but his hands gripped firm to the arm rests. She stiffened, feeling trapped in a cage that was Logan’s stare, Logan’s scent, Logan’s body. She swallowed thickly, looking to the side and knowing that not just her face, but her ears and even her neck was flushed red.
“Is that a no?” Logan’s voice was smooth.
“It’s none of your business,” She felt how weak her words sounded.
“I can help, ya’ know, for research… if you’d like,” he pressed his forehead against hers. His breath smelled of hot cinnamon gum. She felt her muscles shake, in anxiety or excitement, she didn’t know, and before she could complain, his lips were on her left cheek, trailing toward her mouth. She felt her skin almost blister where he touched, feeling her body suddenly tingly and strung. Her fingers twitched, as if she wanted to grab a hold of something…of him. She felt her mouth part slightly, a little gasp when his lips left the very edge of hers. He smiled less than a inch from her. “You mentally listing all the things I’m doing to your body?” His voice was rushed, his eyes wild, like he was winning a game.
She wouldn’t let him win. “For research,” she challenged.
He was on her in a second, his lips pressed into hers, his jaw working to open her mouth. She was taken back by it, not ready and slightly alarmed that his tongue already brushed against hers. The cinnamon taste burned. She closed her eyes tightly, hearing only her heart slamming against her ears. She tried to follow, failing as her tongue wasn’t nearly as experienced as his, and her mouth seemed to gap and flop around his that danced effortlessly. She twisted her hoodie sleeves in her fists, knowing she was hopelessly loosing.
She hadn’t known that his hands left the arm rests until they were on her hips. She was suddenly terrified, her mouth going still as she thought he’d pin her there, but a moment later his bare hands slipped under her shirt on both sides and his fingers slithered up her sides. She unintentionally yelped against his mouth.
He stopped, pulling away from her as she gasped for breath. The room swam around her, empty of everything that was Logan before. She crossed her arms, feeling small under his gaze, but so energized she felt she could run a marathon. He didn’t say anything until her breathing was normal, and she finally looked up at him.
“I can’t believe you actually let me do that,” he didn’t sound playful anymore, his face twisted in confused pity. She almost glared at him, but she didn’t have enough time. A fist flashed into the corner of her vision, sinking into Logan’s cheek with a thud. He stumbled side ways, holding his head and giving a light groan.
“Yeah,” Jessie sneered. “I can’t believe you did that either.” He sneered as he shook out his hand, "fuck man... your head is hard." Hips thin lips brushed his knuckles and then his wrist, before he turned to her, "what was that all about?"
She didn't look up at his intense blue eyes, but instead found herself catching a glimpse at Logan as he nursed his jaw and stared defeated at the library carpet...
Welcome to my Blog
Hey, I'm Maryah Stevens, a 25 year old, self-published, college graduate, married, 1st time mom! Phew!