Caught. Kristin Hardy

was still kissing her, and to her shock, need built afresh even as the orgasm receded.

      Sudden compulsion flowed through her. She had to touch him. She fumbled for his zipper and he groaned as she brought him out, hard and heavy. They might not know each other at all but she knew how he liked it. She knew how to make him shudder and jolt. She knew how to take him so close to the edge, push him so far that he was grinding his teeth to maintain control.

      Sinking to her knees, Julia breathed on the swollen head of his erection. She teased it with the tip of her tongue, licking first one side, then the other, quickly, experimentally. And then she slid his cock into her mouth in one quick rush, taking it as deep as she could, ripping a helpless moan from his throat.

      It intoxicated her, as it always did. It aroused her. Maybe she was a little out of her depth with Alex, but when she was tasting him, feeling him hard against her lips, feeling his body quake with her every movement of her tongue, she was the one in control. She could play him, speeding up the motion, slowing it down. She could stroke him with hand and mouth and do everything she could to bring him to the edge because she knew he wouldn’t want to come that way. She wanted to tease him. She wanted to push his self-control to the limit until he had to beg her to stop.

      And she smiled when she felt his hands on her shoulders, dragging her up.

      “Let’s go down here to the reference desk,” Alex said huskily, leading her through the stacks to the row of reading tables against the wall.

      “You know, when I was in high school, I had this thing for our librarian.” He walked Julia back until she felt the seat of one of the wheeled chairs against the backs of her knees. “She was fresh out of school, so she used to wear her hair up like yours and these tidy little suits, I guess to make herself look older. I used to fantasize about her, about what she had on underneath. Maybe I should check that out before you check out my books, Miss Covington.” He slid Julia’s skirt up and pressed her into the chair.

      Shrugging off his jacket, he knelt before her. Strong and warm, his hands parted her thighs. His eyes were hypnotic. She was dissolving she was so wet, so ready for him to touch her.

      “Look at you, so prim in your suit, with all these books around,” he breathed, leaning in to lick her thigh above the stocking, sliding his hands up over her breasts. His breath was warm as a touch, sending little shivers through her, all of it focused on that spot where she ached for him. “Oh, yeah, you’re better than any fantasy.”

      He draped her legs over his shoulders, then hooked the scrap of silk out of his way. Helplessly Julia let her head drop back. She felt him trace one finger, then the tip of his tongue through those soft, private folds, making her shudder. And then the time for teasing was done and he found her with his mouth in a slick caress that had her crying out and arching against him.

      If he’d tantalized before, now he was relentless, driving her up, eyes hot and intent. He didn’t keep to a rhythm but changed his speed and touch continuously until she could only quake and gasp, waiting for the next touch, waiting for the next taste that would send her over.

      She heard a high-pitched gasping and she realized that it was her, and her world focused down to the heat of his mouth, the torment of his hands on her breasts and the want, the want, the want that dragged her closer, always closer as every muscle in her body tightened into the ultimate arousal. So close, teetering on the edge.

      When he pulled away, she cried out, until she realized that he’d dragged out his wallet to get at his emergency condom, sheathing himself and thrusting into her with a slick, hot rush that had her crying out again. Then he was moving in her, hot and hard and relentless, using the chair to slide her on and off his cock, teasing her with little strokes and then thrusting himself home hard. And giving her that sweet, good friction that took her up and made everything he’d done with his mouth seem inconsequential next to this hard, insistent reality that dragged her up and up until she was balanced on the edge. And then with another stroke she went over, so that she was falling, shuddering and clenching around him. It was that, finally, that sent him surging against her for a handful of hard, quick strokes to spill himself even as she still shook.

      And then Julia heard the noise through the still open door.

      She tensed. “What was that?”

      “What?” Alex asked hoarsely.

      “That noise. Outside.” She scrambled away. Heart hammering, she dragged down her skirt, buttoning her jacket and fighting a growing sense of embarrassment and horror.

      Someone was there, and heaven only knew who. What if they’d heard? What if they’d seen? What if she and Alex were busted? Catching her breath, expecting the worst, she hurried out the open door into the main conservation lab.

      Only to find it empty. No one there, she saw with a rush of gratitude. No guards, no conservators, no staffers wondering what was going on in the stacks. Just a quiet, empty conservation lab. They hadn’t gotten caught, despite taking an absurd chance. Relief flooded through her.

      And then she saw.

      “Alex. The box.”

      “The box?”

      “The amulet,” she almost wailed. “Oh, my God. Did you move it?”

      “I put it right back where it was. Right there.” He pointed to the table with the bas-relief, but where the open box had been now sat…

      Nothing.

      Anxiety swept through her. She couldn’t stop staring, blinking as though the box would magically appear.

      But it didn’t. No box, no amulet, just the folder of photographs and drawings, with the smooth table behind it.

      The White Star was gone.