Wanton at the Library

  Wanton at the Library

  Curvy Librarians of Sugar Hill, Book 3

  by Liz Fox

  Copyright © 2020 by Liz Fox

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Portions of this book are works of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblances to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Cassidy Taylor

  Liz Fox

  Lizfoxauthor.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Thank You

  Join Me!

  Also by Liz Fox

  Chapter 1

  Sara

  “First, I want to say thank you for getting here so early in the morning.” My boss, Maggie, knows we normally don’t get up this early. There’s a reason the library doesn’t open until ten. You might think it’s because there aren’t enough patrons. But really, it’s because most librarians are up all night reading and don’t get up until eight thirty.

  That’s not actually true, but it certainly feels like I should still be asleep. It’s only six o’clock, and I usually sleep for another two hours.

  “Oh my goodness, this is way too early to be functioning on a Saturday morning.” Hope might be even worse off than me. She just got into a relationship with Ryan, and I’m sure her nights have been busy.

  Maggie continues, making an introduction. “This is Tootsie from the Fairview Library. She’s been hosting successful community events there for the last few years. She’s done us the honor of joining us for our first Sugar Hill Community Fair. Everyone, let’s please welcome Tootsie Murray.”

  A curvy woman who looks like she time traveled from the fifties takes Maggie’s place in front of us. My fellow librarians offer a scattering of applause. She’s both gorgeous and adorable in her fitted, white, button-down shirt and mint green pencil skirt.

  “Hello everyone! First, I want to thank Maggie for inviting me to help. Thanks, Maggie.” She gestures to Maggie, and we break into another, more enthusiastic round of applause. “Next, I want to let you in on the biggest secret around hosting a successful event.”

  She pauses dramatically, and I have to admit, I’m curious what the secret is.

  “The secret to a successful community event is this—you’ve already done the hard work. Double-check what you need to check and then relax. The more you enjoy yourself, the more your patrons will enjoy themselves. So enjoy the fruits of your labors.

  “That’s it. That’s my best advice. I’ll be here all day, backing you up. You’ve done the best you can. Now, go have fun.”

  The meeting ends and people scatter to take care of last minute responsibilities until it’s just Hope, Violet, and me lingering.

  Hope nudges Violet, grinning. “Everything good to go with your firefighter?”

  “I think you mean the firefighters, and yes, they’re good to go.” Violet blushes adorably, then throws me under the bus. “What about you, Sara? Will Zach be here today?”

  “Well, um. Yes. Of course he will. He’s done all the PR for the event.” I stutter, caught off-guard by the sudden turn in conversation. “Why?”

  Hope smirks at me. “Maybe because this could be your chance to take the next step.”

  My jaw drops in shock. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh please.” Violet hops in. “Everyone knows you’ve had feelings for him since forever.”

  It’s my turn to blush. I had no idea my friends knew about my long-time crush on my best friend. Zach and I met when we were fifteen years old. He moved in next door, a gangly kid who was brand new to the area.

  My friendship with Zach developed easily and naturally. I’m the youngest of five kids—a surprise baby. By the time I reached my teenage years, my parents were mostly checked out. I had plenty of time to befriend the neighbor with the golden brown hair and blue-grey eyes.

  At this point, we’ve been best friends for twelve years, and I’ve been in love with him for the last seven. Recently, he started talking about rounding out the circle of his life and meeting someone. In all the time I’ve known him, he’s barely ever talked about relationships. His goal has always been to build a successful business. To that end, he’s been working his ass off for years. Maybe now that he’s not so focused on work, there’ll be a chance for him to see me as more than a friend.

  But that doesn’t address the issue in front of me—my fellow librarians. I thought I’d kept my feelings on the down-low. For the first time, I’m realizing I might not have been quite as discreet as I’d thought.

  Burying my face in my hands, I mumble, “Does Zach know?”

  Hope pats me on the back and Violet snorts. “Of course he doesn’t know, you wanton librarian. He’s completely oblivious. You named one of your cats after him—Chaz, right? If he didn’t realize it after that, then he’ll probably never know.”

  My shoulders slump, releasing their tension. Part of me is relieved Zach doesn’t know about my deeper feelings. He’s my best friend, and that relationship is too precious to lose. The other part of me releases a disappointed sigh. He’ll probably never know how I feel, which means even though I’d love to have more with him, friendship is as far as it will ever go.

  The library director, Maggie, joins us at that moment. “Alright, ladies. Get to work.” I swear, Maggie is like another mom to me. She always knows what’s happening in her library and takes extra care of her staff. She gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving to another group of staff.

  We break off to our own projects. I’m manning the book sale all day. Tables and tables of books we’ve cleaned out of the library take over a section of the parking lot. My job is to make sure everything is easy to find and to clear out as many books as possible.

  The pancake breakfast, cooked by the firefighters, seems to have good attendance. One of the firemen, Owen, I think, brings me a plate.

  “Thanks.” I take the plate of syrupy goodness from him.

  “No problem.” He gives me a jaunty grin before heading back to the grill. Sighing, I wonder why I can’t have a crush on someone like Owen. My head tilts to the side, angling for a better view of his retreating form.

  “Has the book sale started?” A deep, masculine voice interrupts my perusal. Startled, I jump a little and press a hand to my chest.

  “Sorry,” he continues. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “That’s okay. I just didn’t see you.” But boy, am I seeing him now. The firefighters look good, but this guy would fit right in. Only he’s wearing a shirt and slacks instead of a t-shirt and jeans. He’s tall, muscled, and striking. His deep brown skin contrasts beautifully against his white button-down. If I wasn’t already in love with someone else, I’d definitely be fluttering my eyelashes.

  “What did you ask again? Oh, right. The book sale.” All these attractive men have me a little scatter-brained, even if they aren’t my Zach. “Yes, it’s open. Is there something specific you’re looking for?”

  “I’d like to find something for my nephew. He’s eleven years old and he’s really into dragons right now.”

  “We have some books like that right over here.” I walk to the appropriate table, the attractive patron following me. “These are a particular
favorite of mine.” I pick up a couple of the books and spread them out on top of the others.

  “Thanks. My nephew will really love these.” He smiles and holds out his hand. “I’m Lincoln, by the way.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sara.” His hand is warm and strong, unexpected for someone who looks like he might work in software development. There’s no zing. No heat. Just a firm grip from a friendly man.

  “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me tonight.”

  My head jerks up with surprise. “Um, I don’t know if…” I glance around, searching futilely for some kind of excuse or escape. I’m about to decline his invitation when my gaze lands on a couple at least a hundred feet away. I can tell, even from here, that it’s Zach.

  And he brought a date.

  The first date he’s gone on in years. She’s slender, with blond hair and big boobs. That’s all I can see from here. With my red hair, curves, and freckles, the only thing we have in common is the big boobs. But, really, it doesn’t matter what she looks like.

  She’s not me.

  My heart breaks a little. Zach didn’t tell me he was bringing someone to the fair. I didn’t have a chance to prepare myself emotionally. They’re headed this way and I don’t know what to do.

  “Sara?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” As I take a deep breath, I realize Lincoln has offered me the perfect distraction. “Yes, I’d love to go out with you tonight.”

  Maybe Lincoln can help me forget that my best friend, the man I love, obviously doesn’t feel the same way.

  It’s hard to comprehend, but maybe this is the best way forward. Zach can still be my best friend. It isn’t what I want, but I’m tired of waiting. If Zach is changing things up, perhaps it’s time for me to do the same.

  Chapter 2

  Zach

  Living the dream. I’m finally in the Lounge, sitting back in a leather chair, a tumbler of top-shelf whiskey in one hand, enjoying the sweet smell of burning cigars. Ever since I moved to Oakwood City and heard about the prestigious Oakwood Club, I knew I would do whatever it took to get a membership here.

  The Oakwood Club is exclusive and open only to the Oakwood Boy nobility—Kings, Princes, Knights—members of the highest order. And after nine years of busting my ass, I’m one of them.

  This is only my second time here. The first time, the concierge gave me a tour of the place. Apparently, the club has levels—the lower you go, the more exclusive and naughty they get. Some of them looked pretty intriguing, but tonight, all I want to do is celebrate my success by being seen with a gorgeous woman on my arm. That’s what you’re supposed to when you make it, right?

  Unfortunately, while I love the atmosphere, I’m not a huge fan of my date. Tana certainly looks nice—she has a conventional beauty that turns heads—but she has the personality of a brick. There was enough distraction at the fair earlier that I didn’t notice, but now that it’s just the two of us it’s hard to miss.

  I’m working so hard not to roll my eyes at her poor conversational skills that it takes me a minute to realize she’s making eyes at one of the other men here. Probably someone with a more established family and business. Disgusted, I take a sip of whiskey and take a look around the room.

  My eyes catch on a delicious figure at the bar. Her back is turned toward me, but that’s enough. Her thick, hourglass curves are hugged in a tight, deep purple, knee-length dress. Silver heels adorn her delicate feet, making her legs look long as steeples and her ass thrust temptingly outward. The lamps add a golden sheen to her wavy red hair. I don’t even know her, but I already want to see her spread naked on my bed while I feast on her decadent body.

  “Another whiskey, sir?” one of the servers asks.

  “No, thanks,” I respond distractedly, already standing up. “I’ll get this one myself.”

  Tana doesn’t even notice me leaving. No big loss on my part. I’ve already got eyes on the woman I want to spend the rest of the evening with.

  Approaching the bar, I run through some pick-up lines in my head. It’s been a while since I’ve actually really been interested in meeting a woman. Now that I’m successful and a little older, they seem a bit cheesy.

  I’m just a few feet away when a man brings her a drink. Their postures indicate she’s here with him. Damn. My dream woman laughs at something he says and something about the tone sounds familiar.

  He gestures for her to take his arm. As she turns, her profile finally becomes visible. It’s more than familiar. It’s a face I know better than my own. The woman I’ve been lusting after for the last five minutes is none other than my best friend, Sara.

  Holy shit.

  Struck dumb, I watch as she takes his arm. He guides them toward the elevators that lead to the lower levels. Wait. The lower levels. Where it gets progressively more risqué the farther you go.

  What the fuck? Why is she going with him? Scratch that. Why is she even here? She never mentioned having a date. Especially, not one with a man wealthy enough to be granted entry at the exclusive Oakwood Club.

  I can’t let her go with him. Sara is innocent. She doesn’t know what goes on down there. Who even is this guy, anyway? He could be dangerous. What kind of asshole would introduce a girl like Sara to the lower levels of the OC?

  Speed walking, I hurry to follow them. They’re waiting together at one of the elevators. The bastard’s hand rests on her lower back.

  “Sara, wait.” I stop just a couple feet away. Sara turns to face me when she hears my voice.

  “Zach? What are you doing here?” Her eyebrows raise in surprise. Her ruby red lips fall open. Fuck, I’ve never seen her with that lipstick on. It makes me want to…

  “No.” Shaking my head, I get back on track. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m on a date.”

  Her date steps forward with his hand outstretched. “Hi, I’m Lincoln.”

  Ignoring him, I focus on my girl. “Sara, you shouldn’t be here.”

  At my words, her expression straightens and her hazel eyes burn. “I think I’m exactly where I need to be. Goodbye, Zach.”

  I watch, frozen in shock, as Sara and her date enter the elevator. At the last second, I shake myself out of my stupor and try to hold the door. But I’m too late. She’s gone.

  Frustrated, I stomp over to where I left my date. “Tana,” I bark. “It’s time to go home.”

  “What?” Her vacant, confused face infuriates me even more. “Let’s go. I’m getting a taxi for you.”

  With a firm grip I lead her out of the club, practically shoving her into the first available taxi. A few twenties and a slap to the hood of the car, and she’s gone.

  It doesn’t take long for me to make my way back into the club. I head straight for the elevators, determined to find Sara as soon as possible. Just because she’s on a date doesn’t mean I can’t keep an eye on her. For her own safety, of course.

  Which level would I take a woman like Sara to on the first date? My mind immediately flashes to one of the midway levels, where the upper crust voyeurs of Oakwood City congregate.

  Wait, no. This is Sara. Innocent and sweet. There’s no way she’d ever go there. It’s disturbing that I imagined her there for even a second. Nevermind the way my cock lengthened with the speed of someone ten years younger at the thought.

  Trying to pretend I’m not lusting over my best friend, I press the button for one of the dance club levels, flashing my access card to get the elevator moving. The doors open to a dark, silent hallway with two doors on each side. A security guard with an earpiece stands next to each doorway.

  I approach the first door. The guard nods at me, allowing me through. I almost wish he would try to stop me. My blood pumps and my adrenaline is high—I’m in the mood for a fight.

  Full volume hip hop music pounds out of the room as I open the door. Well, it’s a bit more than a room. It’s like a miniature club with a bar on the side and another in the VIP area on the second floor balco
ny. They must rent the space out because there are dozens of people dancing under the strobe lights.

  It’s amazing what they’ve created, but I’m not in the mood to appreciate it right now. As quickly as possible, I make my way through the room, searching for silky red hair. She’s not in here. She isn’t in the pop music room either. Or the room reserved for ballroom dancing for the more mature members of the club.

  That leaves only one room on this floor. If she isn’t there, I’m going to be pissed. I approach the final door. If I remember correctly, this room is reserved for dirty dancing. Just a slip or two of fabric different from some of the lower levels of the club. With determination, I open the door and enter.

  Immediately, my senses are overwhelmed with a pulsing, sensual beat. Bodies sway in front of me, couples rhythmically grinding against each other. Sweat and sex perfume the air, and I feel myself responding to the heated atmosphere.

  A flash of red hair catches my eyes. There she is, in the middle of the dance floor. Sara and her date don’t seem to be dancing quite as closely as some of the other couples. It’s a small relief. She dances like a goddess, all delicious curves and swiveling hips. I make my way to a discreet place on the wall near the bar, unable to take my eyes off her.

  God, she looks so fucking sexy. I had no idea she could move like that. And I had absolutely no idea it would affect me like this—I feel hot, possessive, and wanting. When that handsome bastard puts his hand on her hips, I have to clench my fists to keep from storming through the dancers and punching him in the face.

  “Cat got your balls, huh?”

  “What?” My head whips around to face the man next to me. He’s slender, well-dressed, and drinking what looks like an appletini.

  “You’ve had your eye on the sexy redhead for at least forty-five minutes.” The stranger nods his head in the direction of Sara. “They sure move well together, don’t they?”

  My urge to punch someone suddenly has a much closer target. He must be sensitive as hell because he raises his hands, palms out.