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“Do you know where I can find books on nineteenth-century children’s recommended reading?”
He was back again. Selena looked up from the dog-eared folder of cataloguing changes with a sense of pleasure that had nothing to do with taking a break from her least favourite task. “Nineteenth-century?” she asked, smiling with genuine warmth at the tousle-headed young man with the chocolate brown eyes and the intriguing scar on his chin.
“Yeah,” he said, ducking his head a little as a slight blush lit his face. “I’m brain-storming a project for my Victorian lit class.” Selena loved the way his lop-sided grin crinkled his cheek. His name was Armando and he had made a habit of showing up during her shift for the last couple weeks. He even bought her a coffee last week, but the conversation had been stilted and mostly one-sided.
Her side. I could talk the hind leg off a dog, Selena thought. He seemed interested, but things were not progressing. “Well, the most likely search would be in the Victorian era magazines. We have a good collection of them in the stacks. A gift from a prominent alumna,” she added before mentally appending a “shut up, Selena.” It wasn’t parents’ day after all.
Armando’s brow furrowed. “Where’s that? I don’t think I’ve been in the stacks before.”
Selena started to give the complex series of twists and turns necessary to get to the third floor stacks, but stopped herself in time. “Let me show you, it’s a bit confusing.” She nodded to Brent, to indicate that the reference desk was his and stepped out beside Armando. “Follow me.”
Was that an eager look on his face? Selena wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but kept up an easy stream of chatter as they walked along, drifting from nineteenth-century children to her cousin’s quinceañera over the weekend before they finally arrived at the dark wing. She pressed the button on the first set of movables and it whirred into action.
“What’s that?” Armando said, those scrummy chocolate eyes open wide.
“Too many books, too little space. They installed the movable stacks over the summer. We’re going to need even more.” Selena led the way down to the little alcove where the Victorian women’s magazines were bound and shelved. She turned around once Armando had stepped in beside her. “See, if you send the shelf back,” she hit the button, “it gives you a little private reading library.”
Selena turned around to see Armando staring at her, his eyes so shiny they looked wet. He seemed to have difficult breathing. She was just about to ask him if he had claustrophobia when he spoke, his words echoing in the tiny chamber.
“Every time I try to talk to you,” he said slowly, stopping to swallow, “I get tongue-tied. I want to sound intelligent to impress you, but all I can do is imagine what it feels like to touch your skin.” His whole face took on a pinkish hue.
Selena stepped closer. “I bet it would feel really good.” She reached up to stroke his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of stubble beneath her fingers as she traced the scar on his chin. Armando looked eager enough, but still seemed frozen to the spot.
Selena smiled. “Would it help if I said, ‘Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.'”
Armando grinned. “O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.”
“Yes,” was all she said, but it seemed to release his hands and his eager lips. His arms enveloped her and their lips met as she buried her hands in his thick black curls. Armando opened his mouth and thrust his tongue into hers, and it burned hot as a Serrano. She twined her fingers in his hair as her breasts crushed against his chest.
Armando’s hands slid down her back to her derrière, circling the generous globes with obvious delight. He took his mouth off hers long enough to whisper, “God, you are so beautiful!” then moved his mouth to her throat.
That was a weak point with Serena. She willed her knees not to buckle, but couldn’t stifle a small moan. Armando took this as sure sign to continue, adding a nip that made her yelp. If he were to touch me between the legs now, I would come, Selena thought gleefully.
Armando moved his hands to her breasts and Selena leaned back against the nearest shelf and closed her eyes. It was just too delicious. His hands were so warm as they massaged her through the soft t-shirt she had worn, circling her distended nipples until she thought she would scream with the desire to rip off her clothes and leap on top of him.
“We should probably go somewhere…more comfortable,” she gasped as he put his mouth to her nipple and breathed hot air onto it, making her shiver.
“In a minute,” Armando said, his voice firm and unwavering now. He looked up and smiled impishly before reaching for the top of her jeans. Selena muffled the “no” that wanted to rise to her lips, because he was already slipping one hand down into her panties as he returned to kissing her neck.
As his fingers crept closer to her swollen clit, Selena held her breath. There was no way she was going to shriek out loud, but the orgasm was already poised to erupt and did the moment his fingers touched that bud. Her knees did buckle then and Armando swiftly threw an arm around her waist to steady her, even as his other hand dipped lower to slide a couple fingers into her wetness, bumping his palm against her clit as the waves overtook her while his fingers churned inside. Selena gasped, trying to suck the sounds back down her throat and not shout out loud, but the strangled moans that escaped left no doubt as to her pleasure.
When at last she stopped bucking and moaning, Selena could feel the sweat on her brow as her skin continued to sing with delight. She looked at Armando who was still grinning with that crooked smile. He pulled his hand out of her jeans and licked the tips of his fingers.
“‘Come what sorrow can, it cannot countervail the exchange of joy, that one short minute gives me in her sight.'” He kissed on the mouth, savouring the plumpness of her lips. “Now,” he said, touching her cheek with a gentle caress, “now we can go somewhere more comfortable.”