"I date women. Plural. I fuck women. I do casual and meaningless. I screw them, dominate them, tease and play kinky sex games with them, and then I take them home."
Through his haze of righteous anger, he caught the stunned surprise and question in her eyes. He knew that accosting her in the storeroom of the campus library was unexpected for her, but dammit, he needed some peace.
"Yes, sometimes more than one at a time. Don't you get it? I don't date just one woman. It's not who I am anymore. I can't. I don't want that. I don't do commitment. I don't do serious. I do secure, intelligent, independent women that are sexually free and unencumbered by notions of long term and happily ever after.
"But you ... god." He ran his hand over his face and through his hair in exasperation. "For the fucking life of me, I can't get you out of my head. I can't look at another woman without wishing she were you. You, with your big, innocent, questioning eyes. And I certainly can't bring myself to fuck any of them. My dick shrivels up like a raisin at the thought. Whatever it is that you've done to me, undo it. I want you gone from my mind, girl. I want my life back the way it was before you stumbled into it."
"Hmm, you sound a bit out of sorts. Angry, really."
He was taken aback and simply stared at her. How dare she be so nonchalant when he was ready to explode? He grabbed her by the arms and gave her a slight shake. "Hell, yes. Yes, I'm angry. I'm damned angry." And so god damned hard.
"I don't know what you're angry about or want from me. I haven't done anything."
"I want you to let me go. Please, just let me go." Desperation laced his voice. "I can't do this. I can't be him."
"But I'm not holding you, Jack."
Tension flared as their eyes locked. Neither blinked nor looked away.
"Damn you, Rose. I don't want you." And that was the biggest lie he'd ever told.
His mouth came down on hers in a bruising, crushing kiss, and his grip on her arms tightened. He pressed his body into hers, pushing her as far back into the wall as he could.
Sliding his hands down to hers, he lifted her arms up over her head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this wouldn't make things better, but in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care anymore. All he wanted was her.
He held her arms with his fingers wrapped around her wrists and slid his other hand down over her hip to grip her below-the-knee, not-the-least-bit-sexy-length skirt, and raised it up. She shifted against him and made it easier for him to get at her. He growled deep in his throat, shoved his tongue into her mouth and his hand between her legs.
She moaned and pushed herself into his palm. He tugged at her conservative but thin panties, yanking until they ripped away from her body. He let go of her wrists in order to unbutton her shirt. He wanted at her tits. He wanted inside her body. He wanted to punish her for the hell his thoughts of her had put him through. He was hot and ready, his cock as hungry as his soul.
Plunging his fingers deep, he pumped them in and out of the heated wetness of her pussy, feeling it slide down his hand. She pulled her mouth from his, leaving them both gasping for breath.
"Don't fight it, Rose. Don't fight me."
"No, no, I'm ... not fighting it. It's just..."
He understood exactly what she couldn't say, because words escaped him, too. He couldn't believe what was happening. He was with her, touching her, kissing her. They were in public--sort of--and he knew she always arrived at work much earlier than the head librarian or any of the other employees, but still...
When she tried to speak, her voice sounded strained, and he briefly wondered if he was hurting her. He should ease up, part of his brain said; the other part told him not to dare move an inch. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest. He liked that.
And she was impossibly tight. Two fingers were inside her, and he wasn't sure he could get in a third. An absurd thought crossed his mind, but he dismissed it outright because she was so wet, so god damned, fucking wet. He moved slowly inside her, pressed in deeper, slid them out, and then shoved them back in forcefully, adding another.
He saw the grimace cross her face and the tears that formed in her eyes. She dropped her hands and gripped his shirt.
"Does it hurt?"
"Yes. No." She took a few deep breaths. "No."
Jack stared at her. She was obviously as moved by this moment as he was. She never knew he'd been watching her all these months, just as she'd been watching him. She never knew he wanted her, craved her. But she knew now. He'd made sure of it.
"Damn, girl." He ground out the words against her ear before not so gently biting the lobe. She whimpered and wriggled closer, tighter against him, tensing against his body as he rocked hard into her. "Yes, that's it." He'd never wanted to fuck a woman so much. She was so responsive, her body so silky hot, burning his hand. He'd be surprised if he didn't have scorch marks. "Show me how much you want it, Rose."
And she did. Over and over, she thrust against him, fucking his fingers. The heel of his hand ground against her clit as he shoved hard. "Come on, girl. Come for me. Give me what's mine. Come, Rose."
She came then, all over his hand. She bit her lip. She gasped. She opened her mouth, and he shoved his tongue between her lips and tasted her before tearing away from her again.
"Slut." The anger was back in his voice. He heard it but couldn't do anything about it. Raw emotion consumed him, and he wasn't used to it. He hated it.
Taking his hands from her body, he took a measured step back, trying to regain some form of composure. Tried and failed. He breathed as deeply as she did, and his dick was harder than it had ever been.
Her voice was shaky, and he watched as she steadied herself against the wall, hurt flashing through her eyes. She trembled, and he didn't dare reach out to help hold her up.
"No," he bit out, his eyes narrowing and jaw clenching in frustration.
He heard the coldness in his own voice and regretted it when she winced. He was hot, and he wasn't sure what to do with his hands, so he balled them into fists and shoved them in his pockets. When had he become so mean? When had he become capable of treating someone so callously? Not just any someone, but Rose. He desired her. Even though he didn't want to admit it, it was true.
And now ... she was smiling. Didn't she know he was still angry? Didn't she know that now was not the time to smile at him as if she knew some great secret? What the fuck was going through her head? "Why?"
"Why what, Jack?"
He shook his head. He knew she didn't know what he meant or to what he referred. Still, the smile on her face, the glow in her cheeks from the recent orgasm, her disheveled appearance ... "You are so damned infuriating, Rose."
She broke eye contact with him and pushed away from the wall. With calm, steady movements, she straightened her skirt, re-buttoned her shirt, and smoothed her appearance. Like a helpless jerk, he watched her efficient movements, angry at himself, at her, and at the scent of her cum still floating between them, still clinging to him. He wanted to say something, anything, but remained silent.
After a few moments, she lifted her gaze to meet his, and he took a small step back. The emotion he read there was too raw, but when she spoke, her voice was strong and cool.
"Have a good day, Jack."