Chapter Nineteen
An hour later, Rachel and Scott rolled around in the cookbook section, laughing.
Rachel lay on her back, breasts skyward and panties twisted. “Are we really rolling around half-naked in the cookbook section?”
“Looks like it.” Scott pinched her nose.
“Hey.” She swatted his hand away. “What is it with you? I feel so free when we’re together. Kinda like a kid.”
“You miss being a kid?” He folded his arms behind his head.
“Only because I wish I’d had a normal childhood.”
“I’m so sorry you had to grow up the way you did.” He caressed her arm. “I still hate Stone for dragging you in this mess though.”
“He’s a wonderful person once you scrape away all the crust and buildup.”
He chuckled. “Okay.”
“Kinda like a burnt sweet potato pie.” She lay on him. “It’s still good once you pick the black parts off.”
“I guess I owe Stone a lot.” He pulled on her little ear. “It’s because of him we met.”
“Yes, it is.” She blessed him with a soft kiss on the lips. “I wish I could stay in your arms forever.”
He folded them around her as she laid her head on his naked chest.
“I’ve never felt so safe before.”
“Yeah, but Fusco’s still out there and he wants his money. Have you heard from him?”
“No.”
“Don’t think he’s gonna just go away, Rachel.”
“Sh.” She put her fingers on his lips. “Right now I don’t give a damn about Fusco. Just give me this moment.” She squeezed his nipple. “This moment’s for us.”
“Would you reconsider letting Bobby help?”
“Scott.” She groaned, sitting straight.
“He has a friend with the FBI. She can—”
“The Feds have been after Fusco for decades and they’ve never gotten him. He’s got tons of money and a lot of powerful friends. If the Feds can’t get him for murder, money laundering, international coke dealing or any of the other shit he’s done, you think they will care about some Negroes who owe him money? Stone and I are insignificant.”
“Not to me.” He grabbed her. “Rachel, you’re the most important thing in my world right now.”
She touched his wrist. “I’m tired of being scared.”
“You don’t have to be scared anymore.” He kissed her forehead. “What do you want? Tell me and I’ll make it happen.”
“Promise me a happy ending.” She looked at him, her eyelids weighed with emotion.
“I promise.”
“I love it in here.” She pulled his arms around her.
Scott glanced at the bookshelves towering over them.
“It’s kinda scary here at night.” Rachel giggled. “All these old books and dim aisles. So quiet you can hear a cotton ball drop. How old is this library?”
“About eighty years old.”
“Can you imagine the history these walls have seen? The people that have been in this library? The ghosts and the spirits?”
“Please, don’t tell me you believe in ghosts.”
“I don’t mean as in haunting but when you spend a lot of time in a place that your presence stays there. Yours will be here forever.”
“Is this why you like it here? Because it’s creepy?”
“I love mysterious things.” She moved from his embrace and stood, her panties crooked. “You ever wonder if there are spirits here?”
His stomach coiled. “I do now thanks to you.”
“Uh-oh.” She grinned. “Did I make you afraid to be here at night now?”
He stood, grabbing her. “Maybe you should come by every time I work late and protect me.”
“I’d love nothing more.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, smashing her breasts against him.
“This place is kinda scary now that you mentioned it. All these old books. Now it makes me wonder what’s lurking underneath the surface.”
“You know what’s been bugging me?” She tapped her nose with her index finger. “I can’t figure out how you know where every book is by memory.”
He smirked, pulling at the band of his white jockey shorts.
“I guess it’s magic, huh?” she teased.
“It’s not rocket science. I pay attention to detail. Anyone can do it if they try.”
“Uh, no, Scott. Not everyone can memorize millions of books in a library.”
“All I do is keep track of inventory, and help people find books, right?”
She nodded with a flirtatious smile.
“The books are stocked in certain sections. Once you know the section the book would fit in, then you can pinpoint where the book would be.” He held up his finger. “Memorize the vicinity and then you learn where the book is.”
“I see what you’re saying, but I could work in a library for years and couldn’t tell you where every individual book is. How do you know the exact shelf?”
“I’m telling you anyone can do it if they’re interested in paying attention.” He pinched her chin.
“I couldn’t do it.”
“Let’s see.” He crossed his arms, rocking. “Name a book. Any book.”
“Carrie.”
“Stephen King, okay. Where would it be?”
She shrugged. “The Horror Section.”
He gestured for her to walk. “Let’s go then.”
They passed the kid’s play area, Scott mesmerized as Rachel’s panties rode up on her tight buttocks.
“This is my biggest fantasy.”
“What?”
“You walking around in the library, topless in your panties.” He touched his chest, leaning to the side. “Kill me now.”
“Shut up.” She scanned the Stephen King shelves.
“There’s Carrie right there.” He pointed to the book above her head.
She pushed him against the shelf. “I’ve never been fucked in the Horror Section before.”
“No?” He French-kissed her, stroking her tit. “There’s a first time for everything, huh?”
His cell phone rang from the front of the library.
“You need to get that,” she said with her mouth plastered on his.
He slipped her panties off her ass. “It can wait.” He hoisted her up, fondling and kissing her as the phone continued.
“Scott.” She moved from an attempted kiss. “You need to get that. Bobby could be hurt or something.”
“Fuck.” He jogged across the library and got his phone from behind the counter.
Rachel made it as he checked the ID on the screen. “Who is it?” she asked.
“It’s Bobby.” Scott’s stomach flip-flopped as he answered, wondering if Rachel might have been right. “Bobby?”