Taking A Risk by Karen Monroe

Analise

Mr. Muscle’s first name is William. I like the moniker I gave him better. William sounds kind of staid; though, I suppose it is a regal name. Popular with kings.

“So… William? Now that you know my name, are you satisfied?”

His gaze roves over my seated body. “I’m nowhere near satisfied.”

Lordy! This man is potent. He’s not some smooth operator type who uses suave flirtation. He’s blunt—direct—and his gaze never wavers from mine as he sits comfortably in a chair that’s a bit too small for his enormous frame.

He is at ease and comfortable in his skin. Me… I’m not sure I have the stamina to maintain my effortless cool.

“Ah… so you’re here for round two?” I ask, smirking.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.” His gaze roams over me again. “Andif we get to round two, then this one-night-stand bullshit will be a thing of the past.”

This guy doesn’t give up. “I told you. I’m not trying to get involved.”

“And… I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend.”

Asshole!“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking you to be my boyfriend either.”

He smiles widely, raising my suspicion. “So, we’re agreed? You’re not asking to be my girlfriend, and I’m not asking to be your boyfriend. That just leaves… regular old friends.”

“Except, we aren’t… old friends. I don’t even know you.”

“Should I introduce myself again?”

Hilarious! “No. I remember it. William Gilmore.”

“My friend’s call me Gilly.”

I almost spit in his face with laughter. “What kind of nickname is that? Sounds like a girl’s name.”

His lips curl as he looks off to the side. “I hate the nickname too.”

“Then you should tell all your friends not to call you that,” I gush.

He looks back at me, his lids lowered. “I like you.”

Damn!He is direct, but I don’t have time for whatever it is he’s offering. “And I’m not trying to get involved.”

“You keep saying that.”

I nod furtively. “Because it’s true.”

“Why are you so opposed to a casual friendship?” He asks, staring at me like he wants to peer into my mind.

“There’s no such thing as a casual friendship. Besides. We’ve already fu—” I stop myself. “We’ve already had carnal relations, which means casual is out.”

He shrugs. “What about friends with benefits?”

That had a nice ring, but it wasn’t really possible.

I sigh loudly, finally admitting the truth. “Look, I like you… a lot. But I don’t have time for any sort of relationship, casual or otherwise. It’s just not possible.”

He frowns. “Why not? Are you on the run from the mob, or the CIA?”

“Neither,” I reply, laughing. “But… I have two kids.”

His eyes widen as he looks me over. “How old are they?”

I should lie, but I’m not a big fan of that. “Sixteen and twelve.”

He freezes, then he looks at me like I’m some sort of oddity in a zoo. “How old are you? Because that doesn’t seem possible unless you’re an alien or something?”

The jig is up. “Okay. They’re not my kids… per se, but I’m their guardian. It’s my brother and sister.”

His head tilts to the side. I see the questions swirling behind his eyes and decide to cut to the chase, because I think he’s too polite to ask.

“I’ll give you the short version. Two weeks after I turned eighteen, I graduated from high school. Four weeks after that, both of my parents were killed in a car crash, making me the sole guardian for my younger brother and sister.”

Immediately, I hate the sympathy I see in his eyes. Sympathy is the last thing I need. I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime. Before he can give me his condolences, I wave my hand. “It’s shitty. I know, but that’s why I don’t have time to get involved. I’m not trying to run some kind of game on you.”

William looks at me a moment longer, then leans back in his chair and laughs. “She cursed me.”

I frown. “Huh?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “But you know all you’ve told me is you have a lot on your plate. I can definitely understand that, but I’m not asking for all your time. Just bits and pieces.”

Wow! “You are tenacious.”

He nods. “I’ve been told that more than once.”

My head shakes. “I don’t think it was a compliment.”

“For me it was.” He stares at me, his gaze level and steady. “So… when do you take your break?”

I shouldn’t, but there’s no denying this guy. He doesn’t know the word “quit”.

“In an hour, but I have to shelve these books.” I point at the loaded carts. “I can’t take my break until then.”

That’s not the truth, but shelving books is a major part of my job. It also takes up the vast majority of my time. If I want to play with William Gilmore, I need to do that first. Though, I’m still not sure we should play around at all. I don’t want to make a habit of having sex on the job. And… I don’t want to make a habit of having sex with him at all!

“I’ll help you,” he volunteers.

“What do you know about the Dewey Decimal System?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Quite a lot. I used to help the librarian at my high school.”

“Okay. If you want to do my job, I won’t stop you, but the first misplaced book and you’re done.”

“I think I can keep up.”

I shake my head. My mind is all mixed up and cloudy with desire. I’m not sure if this is a good idea or a bad one.

* * *

Will

It takesa moment to remember the fundamentals of the classification system, but once it comes back to me, I’m able to keep up with Analise as we shelve books in the Reference section.

I take every opportunity I can to get close to her. When she can’t reach a shelf, I lean in to help, our bodies rubbing against each other. She’s not unaffected. The pink blush covering her cheeks is a sign.

Knowing I’m throwing her off-balance, I decide this is the perfect opportunity to find out more about her. Her phone number is still my second aim. I can’t forget that.

“What year are you?” I ask. She’s young, but I don’t peg her for a freshman.

She huffs, but stays silent.

I hope volunteering information about myself might make her open up a bit, so I offer, “I’m a senior.”

She huffs again, but finally says, “It’s my first year, but technically I’m considered a transfer sophomore.”

I nod, familiar with the term. A lot of guys transferred from community college to play D-1 ball.

“What’s your major?”

“Nursing,” she answers stiffly.

My brows rise. Maybe it was because she reminded me of a painting, but I thought she might be an art history major.

Determined to make her smile, I continue. “I’m majoring in economics with a minor in business. I hope to be a billionaire someday.”

Her head falls forward as she chortles. Then she looks at me with a huge grin.

Bingo!

“Why doesn’t that surprise me!”

You’re a fitness junkie and a megalomaniac.”

Fitness Junkie?

Megalomaniac?

No one had ever called me those things before.

I wave my arms down my body. “I’m in shape. What’s wrong with that? And just because I want to be rich doesn’t make me a megalomaniac.”

She eyes me with a smug expression. “What are you? Six-four, 240lbs?”

“Six-five, 250lbs actually,” I easily reply.

“And you want to be a billionaire? Classic megalomania behavior. There’s several books here at the library on the subject if you’re down for a little light reading.”

I smirk. “Would it sound better if I told you I want to make a lot of money to support my two younger brothers and two younger sisters?”

She turns back toward me, eyes wide, her hand still on the book she’s shelving. “You’re the oldest?”

“No, I’m the second oldest. I have an older brother.”

“Wait. How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“I have three brothers and four sisters.”

“Holy shit,” she breathes as she starts back to shelving. “Are your parents like… fundamentalist or something?”

My folks are self-determined welfare recipients, but I’m not about to get into that. “No, they just have a lot of kids.”

“Damn! Must be hard to remember everyone’s name.”

I shrug. “Meh… it’s like remembering the names of the seven dwarves.”

She peers up at me, amusement clear on her face. “You know the names of the seven dwarves?”

“Sure I do.” I tick off my fingers as I recite, “Sneezy, Bashful, Dopey, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, and…” My mind draws a blank as I try to remember the last dwarf. “And…”

Analise smiles broadly. “Doc.”

“Damn! I always forget him,” I laugh.

“He’s supposed to be the leader of the group, but everyone always forgets him,” she giggles.

I want to keep the banter going, so I take my time shelving the last row of books on the cart. We’ve made good progress, but I don’t want this to end too soon.

“You’re a Disney fan?”

She tilts her head and her blue-gray eyes scrutinize me from head to toe. “I think I should ask you that. I don’t think I know a single guy who knows who the seven dwarves are. Much less can recall… six of their names.”

“Blame my little sister, Beth. When she was four, she became obsessed with all things Snow White.” I shake my head, remembering. “I think I’ve seen that movie at least fifty times. She used to sneak out of bed and watch the DVD when everyone else was asleep.”

I don’t add I slept on the couch in the living room, and Beth’s late-night movie nights often became my late movie nights.

“How old is she now?” Analise asks.

“Ten. Thankfully she grew out of the Snow White phase after a couple of years. But… you didn’t answer my question. Are you a Disney fan?”

I’ve traveled a fair bit for football. I know there is such a thing as hard-core Disney fans. Some people even think they’re worse than football fanatics.

“I have a sixteen-year-old sister who also went through her own Snow White phase. She loves Disney movies,” Analise replies.

“And… we’re back to the original question. Are you a Disney fan?”

“Why is my Disney fandom such an issue for you?”

“I’m trying to figure you out?”

She shelves a book before asking, “And you think knowing that will help you understand me better?”

“Of course. You can tell a lot about a person based on what they’re a fan of.”

“Okay. You got me. I’m a Disney fan.”

“Let me guess. Your favorite movie is… Beauty and the Beast.”

She laughs. “Good guess. But it’s Aladdin.” She smiles faintly, like she’s remembering something. “I used to beg my parents to take me to Disney World when I was younger so I could meet Princess Jasmine and her tiger.”

I’d been to Orlando a couple times with the team. We were usually invited after a championship season.

“It is the happiest place on earth. Unless, of course, you live in California,” I add.

Her smile turns sad. “I’ll have to take your word for it. A trip to Disney world has never been in the budget.”

Damn!I’m not sure how to respond to that and grab another book while I think of a way to get the conversation back on track.

“Are you a sports fan?”

Sports are a pretty neutral topic and one I’m intimately familiar with.

“Do the Olympics count?”

I laugh. “No.”

“Well then. There’s your answer.”

I reach for another book, but there’s none left. We’ve finished, but I don’t feel like I’ve made any progress with Analise.

“Are we going to shelve the other cart?” I ask, hoping she’ll say yes so I can spend more time with her.

She turns toward me suddenly, her gaze roaming up and down my body. Her tiny pink tongue teases the seam of her lips and my cock instantly hardens.

“I think I’m ready to take my break now,” she murmurs, desire clear in her gaze.

“You are?”

She nods, and I’m drawn forward like a magnet to inhale her fruity scent. I’m hungry for a taste of her sweet mouth and I finger the wetness lingering on her lips.

Her pupils dilate, darkening her eyes. I would have kissed her but we’re interrupted by a student walking down the aisle behind us talking loudly on her cellphone.

Analise blinks like she’s coming out of a trance, but before she can even think to change her mind, I grab her hand and the cart to exit the passageway. I drop the cart off at the desk, then walk us to the elevator.

“Fifth floor?” I ask.

She gnaws her bottom lip just as the doors slide open. “This is the last time. Okay?”

There’s no way I’m agreeing to that, so I stay silent.

When we enter the elevator, there’s a lanky guy standing in the corner looking at his phone. He glances up briefly, acknowledging our presence, before going back to scrolling.

Skinny dude exits on the fourth floor, leaving us alone. Analise turns to face me, but I lower my head and cover her lips with mine as soon as she opens her mouth.

Her taste is rich, succulent, like chocolate and strawberries. I can’t get enough.

She whimpers softly and I pull back with a groan to stare into her eyes. Our faces are mere inches apart and my dick is as hard as a rock.

“I’ve been dreaming about you for the past week. I want you so badly,” I growl. Her mouth opens wide, and I run my tongue along the inside of her bottom lip. “Tell me you want me too.”

“I-I want you. I shouldn’t. But I do,” she whispers.

The bell dings for the fifth floor, and I take her hand to lead her down the hallway. We enter the same study room as before, and I lock the door and close the blinds.

Like before, our gazes lock on each other, but this time I’m not willing to cede control. Stalking toward her, I note her audible swallow, but her eyes tell me she wants me just as much as I want her.

When I tower over her, I demand, “Tell me again you want me.”

“I do,” she moans.

“Say the words,” I growl.

“I want you, William.”

No one calls me William except my grandmother, but I relish hearing my full name from her lips. Her southern twang makes my name sound almost lyrical.

Need twists my guts into a knot. I’m so hard I think I could smash rocks with my cock.

My breath hitches as I stare at her. “I want you. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so much.”

Unable to hold back my instincts, I move toward her until she’s trapped by the table at her back. I’m done playing. It’s been a week too long since I’ve been inside her. I’ve already let her know how much I want her. There’s no more to talk about now.

Thankfully, there are only two obstacles to my pleasure—her jeans and shirt. I could rip both of them off if I wanted, but I take my time as I unbutton her jeans. I leave her shirt on because I’m really afraid I might rip it apart.

With her jeans undone, I turn her roughly until her back aligns with my front. I desperately want to fuck her, but as always, I need to make sure she’s ready.

Lifting her on the table—ass up—I pull her jeans and panties down until she’s trapped by the fabric and at my mercy. I take a moment to admire the sight of her bare ass and cunt. It’s glorious!

She’s a true redhead.

My head is buzzing, and I take another moment to admire her body. She’s tiny, but perfectly formed. I wish I could see her cunt in the light, but the lowlight is enough and I drop to my knees. The need to taste her has been burning inside me for six days. I will not deny myself now.

Analise attempts to pull her legs together. “Don’t,” she gasps. “Not here.”

I understand her reluctance, but I’m too insensate to register the protest. “Just let me taste,” I grunt, bringing my mouth against her nether lips. “I’ll be quick.”

“Oh God,” she moans, but there’s no resistance in her voice.

She wants it! I know it, but I swear I’ll stay in this position until she gives me the absolute go-ahead. “You sure?”

“Yes,” she snaps.

I smother my laugh against her puffy, sweet lips, letting out a warm breath. “You got it, darling,” I say, doing my best to mimic her southern twang.