“There’s nothing pretend about what I want to do to you right now, Librarian Haverford.” My voice is low and rough as I cup her ass, drawing her close to where I’m so fucking hard for her.

Her breath catches and her lips part. “And what’s that, Mr. Hunter? How do you intend to get back into the library’s good graces?”

“How about I make you come on my mouth?” I mold my fingers to her ribs, letting them hover beneath her breast as I brush my thumb over that demon button. “After I kiss every inch of you.”

Emma’s lids droop to half-mast as she tilts her head back. “That sounds like an incredible place to start.”

“An incredible place to finish,” I correct. “I’m not up for anything more.”

Humming softly, she runs her hand over my erection through my jeans, drawing a groan from low in my throat. God, I want her hands on me. Her mouth on me. Her pussy slick and tight around my cock as I take her right here on the floor of her office, but I’m not willing to lie to her to get what I want.

“No baby-making,” I add, to ensure we’re perfectly clear. “If we have sex, we’re using a condom.”

She leans in as she shakes her head, brushing her lips gently against mine. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Come on, Blondie.” I drag my knuckle back and forth over her tight nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt. “It’s clear we both want this. Want it pretty fucking bad if we can’t keep our hands off of each other for more than five minutes. So why don’t you let me make you feel good without the strings attached.” I pinch her taut flesh between my fingers, drawing a soft moan from her pretty lips. “I might be a bad library patron, but I’m going to excel at making you come, sweetheart. I promise.”

“I believe you.” Her nails dig into the skin at the back of my neck, making me desperate to feel them raking across my bare shoulders while I’m moving inside her, driving her crazy. “But my one condition is non-negotiable. No condoms. If that’s something you can’t handle, then we should stop now.”

Stop.

It’s a horrible idea, the worst word I’ve ever heard. It makes me physically ill to even consider such a terrible, awful, shitty, no-good thing.

I don’t want to stop, I want to go and keep going until there is no part of this woman that’s a mystery to me. Until I’ve marked every inch of her skin with my lips, my tongue, my teeth dragging across the inside of her thigh, at her elegant neck, across the pink tips of her breasts and the pinker slickness between her legs.

But I’m a grown man, and my head is calling the shots around here, not my dick.

And so, drawing from the deep reserves of self-control that have kept me calm and steady through every crisis my family has faced the past few years, I capture Emma’s wrists gently in my hands, draw her arms from around my neck, and take a head-clearing step back.

“Oh no.” Her breath rushes out as her brow furrows sadly. “We’re really stopping? I don’t want to stop.”

“Me, either.” I swallow hard, fighting to keep my eyes from drifting below her neck. “But I can’t do what you want. It would be too hard to live next door to my kid and not be a part of his or her life. I’m not ready to be a father, but if the baby’s right here, under my nose, I don’t think—”

“Then I can move. After. If it works.” The words bursting from her kiss-swollen mouth are so close to what I need to hear that my resolve wavers.

Still, I do my best to be the voice of reason. “You just got settled. You don’t want to pull up stakes and start over again. Think of how much money that will cost, let alone the time and frustration involved in—”

“I don’t care about the money.” She stands up straighter, her chin lifting. “If money were my top priority, I would never have left Silicon Valley and the job that was killing me. I want to do something I love, and share my life with someone I love. I can make wine in lots of places. This might be my only shot at a baby.”

My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I fight for control. “I’ve never gotten a woman pregnant before, Emma. Yes, the men in my family have a reputation, but that doesn’t mean—”

“A well-earned reputation,” she cuts in. “I’m willing to take a chance on that. My ex and I tried for eight months without any luck, Dylan. Clearly I need super sperm to break through the fertility barrier.”

“Maybe it was him.” If I’m even going to consider changing my mind, I need to make damned sure she understands what she’s getting in exchange for uprooting her entire life. “Did you get tested to see which of you might have a problem?”

Emma’s features go still as her gaze shifts to the thick flowered rug beneath our feet. “No, but I know it’s me.”

“Without a test, I don’t see how you—”

“Jeremy’s new fiancée is pregnant,” she says. “Eight months along.”

I wince. “And you two broke up…”

“Seven months ago,” she says, lips curving in a humorless smile. “Right after he told me he’d been cheating and Veronica was having his baby.”

“Bastard,” I murmur softly, wanting to pull her in for a hug but knowing better. I can’t trust myself to touch her. Not yet. Not while I’m still so hard it feels like my cock has caught some exotic fever that isn’t going to end well for either of us.

So I settle for a firm, “He didn’t deserve you.”

Emma glances up, big blue eyes creasing at the edges. “Thanks. But honestly, I’m not upset about it anymore. If he hadn’t betrayed me, I don’t know if I would have had the courage to stop betraying myself. This new life and everything I love about it is because of what he did.”

“No, it’s because of you,” I say, hating to see her ex getting credit for her bravery. “You’ve got giant balls, Blondie.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Thank you, I guess. Though I would rather have giant ovaries. Or at least ovaries that work better than mine. I have endometriosis, so that’s part of the fertility issue.” She shrugs, the motion causing her breasts to bounce lightly, making my mouth go dry all over again. “Chances are we could have three months of fun together and there would be no baby.”

“And what’s your plan if that happens?” I ask, tone cautious, though temptation is hitting me hard.

“I don’t know. Most likely fertility treatments and a sperm donor…” She pushes her glasses higher on her nose with a sniff. “But I’m not thinking that far ahead just yet. I’ve learned you can only look so far into the future before it becomes a waste of energy and resources. Nine times out of ten, it’s better to live in the now.”

In the now…

Right now, all I want to do is kiss her. Touch her. Slide inside her without a barrier between my cock and a woman for the first time and see if it’s as good as it’s rumored to be.

And why shouldn’t I if she’s really willing to leave town if I manage to get her knocked up? I won’t miss a kid I’ve never met, she’ll have the baby she wants more than anything, Stroker’s land will be mine, and all will be right with the world.

There’s only one thing standing in my way, “If we do this…”

Emma’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas and she just spotted everything she ever wanted—and a baby unicorn—under the tree.

“If we do this,” I repeat, holding up a warning finger, “you have to make me a promise.”

Her head bobs fast. “Yes. Of course. Name it.”

“If anything ever happens to the kid and you need a blood donation or a kidney or something only a biological father can give, you reach out. Let me know.”

Confusion dulls the joy illuminating her features. “Really? You would do that? For a child you’ve never even met?”

“There are some responsibilities you can’t abdicate, even if you might want to.”

“I’m sure most sperm donors feel differently,” she says, head cocking thoughtfully. “But I can see where you’re coming from. And it makes me even more certain that I picked the right person. Your heart’s in a good place, Dylan.”

My breath rushes out in a strained laugh. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew all the dirty things I’ve been imagining since you answered the door in that outfit.”

Her eyes narrow as her lips curve. “Oh yeah? Things like what?”

“Things like you bent over your desk,” I say, voice low. “While I lift that skirt up over your hips and see what you’re wearing underneath.”

“Or what I’m not wearing.” The words are enough to make my head spin as every ounce of blood in my body surges to my cock.

I’m seconds from turning her around, jerking up that skirt, and calling her bluff, when a knock on the doorframe behind me makes us both jump.

“Sorry to bother you, Em.” It’s Bart, Emma’s vineyard manager. “But the couple who bought the winemaker tour at the charity auction is here.”

Emma makes a distressed sound as she turns to glance at a clock on one of the bookshelves. “But they’re not supposed to arrive until four.”

Bart shakes his head. “I know, but they’re here now, and they apparently drove all the way from the city. I didn’t want to tell them to head into town to kill two hours without consulting you first.”

Emma sighs. “No, of course. Thank you, Bart. I don’t want them to have to wait. Tell them I’ll be out in ten minutes, as soon as I change.” She sounds about as thrilled as I feel. “And ask Neil to get them started with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, please? Something to take the edge off after their drive?”

“Will do,” Bart says, lifting a hand to me as he turns to go. “Thanks again for the help last night, Dylan. You saved our asses.”

“My pleasure,” I say, but the truth is my pleasure has just been cut off at the pass.

Or at least postponed for far longer than I would like, considering I’m dying to take Emma right here, right now, hot and fast up against the wall.

But that’s not how this is playing out, and it’s probably for the best. No matter how unconventional our arrangement is going to be, we should probably get to know each other a little better before we get naked and horizontal.

Or vertical, or any other positions my naughty librarian has in mind…

“I’m so sorry,” Emma says as soon as we’re alone. “Can we meet up later? Same place, same librarian outfit, maybe around five o’clock?”

“Why don’t we meet for dinner in town, instead?” I hate to pass up the librarian play, but we’re more likely to have a rational conversation if we meet in a place where we won’t be alone. “Domenica’s? Six o’clock? That’ll give us both time to wrap up work, and then we can grab food and get to know each other better before picking up where we left off.”

A smile lights her face. “Sounds perfect. See you at six.”

“At six,” I echo, already knowing that the next four hours will drag by at a snail’s pace. But soon, oh-so-soon, I’m going to know what’s it like to have Emma every dirty way we want each other.

And no matter how crazy this is…

I can’t fucking wait.