The shelves tower up from the floor reaching like Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree toward the tiles and florescent lights of the ceiling. Placed end to end, they 'd probably stretch on for miles. mi and miles of noesis in a single installation. His own, personal version of Eden. A grin crosses Sam 's features and he inhales the resplendent musk of well fall apart pages and printing ink.

He 's been in hundreds of library across the country - even has the plastic cards to prove it. They 're housed in a worn horseshoe box the way most kids hold on baseball cards, the edges of his favorites peeling from being handled and touched. multicolored dreams of a different life.

For as long as he can remember and much to his big brother 's chagrin, shelves lined with books have been an oasis. A place he could go to miss whatever township their Fatherhood dumped them in. To be something other than a huntsman. Whether it was a swaggering dangerous undertaking - filled with treasure William Holman Hunt and pirates - or the bold, technicolor pic of coffee table books - an geographic expedition of the virgin Snow of the icy or the brilliance of a Serengeti Plain sunrise - it was a way out.

Reaching up, his fingers trail down the sticker of a comrade loudness. The statute title holds a memory. It sparks the promise of something big, something greater than he 'd ever dreamed of. Something that makes this the perfect study nook - an overcome feeling of hope.

It 's more than just having been here longer than he 's ever been anywhere else, though that 's parting of it. There 's something about not having to vex about doyen rushing in and dragging him away. Something about knowing that his futurity is held in these bulwark and amongst these shelf. Like he did with Jess, all he has to do is reach out and catch what he wants. And he wants this. Wants a stab at being the kind of man she 's meant to spend the repose of her life history with.

Dropping his knapsack on the flooring in forepart of a plush leather chair, he sits with a sigh. The aged leather is cozy. He sinks in deeply and grinning as he looks out the big window to see a bunch of fraternity boys playing football game on the quad.

Sam loves this point. The way the afternoon sun offers light and fondness, but no spotlight. How the death chair is tucked in a quiet picayune corner where he can hide and be all by himself. But most of all, he loves it because this is where he saw her for the first clip ...

It 's late summertime. The dusk semester has n't quite started yet and, for the nigh section, the depository library is abandon. Sam is settling into being on his own. Uncertainty of how to manage without his dad and his big pal is waning. Standing up for himself had been ... right.

He 's been sitting there for hours, in the brown, leather chair by the window. People watching the students in the courtyard below, he brushes up on everything he can get his mitt on. He needs to do well. Needs for this to be perfect. There 's a despair to it. A despair to break free of the fellowship business.

Standing up to relieve cramped heftiness, he turns to see a blonde standing on tip-toe. Long waves tied back in a ponytail, her tegument is lightly sun-kissed and her mile-long legs stretch from Keds sneakers up to cockeyed little short circuit. She wears a t-shirt that stretches across her bust as she attempts to grab a Scripture from the top shelf. She 's improbable than average, but not nearly tall enough.

'' Here, '' he offers. `` Lem me avail you with that. '' Stepping behind her, he shoots an arm up to entrance her prize and offers an slow smile. `` I 'm Sam by the way. ``

'' Jessica, '' she answers. `` My name is Jessica. ``

You could n't wipe the grin off his human face with a wrecking orchis. They 'd started as booster, progressing to dating their sophomore twelvemonth. After sneaking in and out of each other 's elbow room for the better part of a semester, they 'd finally induce a property together. Life was good. They were good.

Somehow a little superfluous studying for the LSATs - grabbing for a scholarship that would keep him here with her - does n't appear so bad. He 's always worked strong on his schoolwork, but this is for her security. This is so he can reach her and the children he hopes they 'll one day share all the things he did n't have.

It 's visions of a hazel tree eyed piddling young woman with blonde ringlets in her arms that gets him started. Tearing into the study usher, he tackles the last-place remaining roadblock to happiness - the reverence he 'll never quite be good enough.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peering around the niche, Jessica spots him in the exact position she expected he 'd be. Leaning on the ledge for a bit, she watches him. Watches the way his pencil alternates bouncing between his finger and furiously scribbling notes onto a effectual pad. Sees the tiny worry lines that crease his brow.

decision making enough is enough, she makes her way over to him. She takes a brief look down the row to see if anyone is around before popping an extra release on her blouse to show a midget bit more skin. He 's been distracted lately. Far too distracted.

'' Hey, handsome, '' she says, nudging her brake shoe against the face of his. The weary smile he sends her way makes her drag the ledger and notepad from his lap and drop curtain it on the level with a thunk.

'' Jess, '' he pouts.

One knee at a time, she straddles his lap. Digging her finger into the muscleman of his shoulder joint and neck, Jess smiles when Sam is ineffectual to hold in a moan. He 's mean. tension and frustration pour off of him in waves.

'' assume a break, '' she urges, continuing her massaging.

'' The test is in three mean solar day, '' he answers. `` I really want to do well. ``

Her mouth glides over his, her finger tangling in his shaggy locks. Her knife darts teasingly along his humiliated lip and he groans as he tugs her tighter to his body, deepening the kiss.

Sam melting like butter on warm toast as Jessica moves deliciously in his lap. The motion is cautious and teasing, sending an almost electric beat to his groin. His hands skate up her thighs, slipping beneath the pleats of her skirt. `` Jess ... '' he murmurs. `` Baby, I got ta work ... ''

Jessica frowns, the plush pink of her lour lip wet and buss swollen. She holds his hands in home. `` Please, Sam ? C'mon ... '' Fingers fluttering up to the clit of her blouse, she opens them cautiously. Flicking the little magnetic disc out of the holes slowly, she percentage the shirt to unwrap the lavender lace of her bra.

He licks his lips at the sight of her flushed cleavage. Each breather threatens to spill her breasts free from the demi-cups and his oral fissure goes dry. `` Not here ... ''

Leaning finisher, sliding silkily against the proof of his desire, she licks the racing shell of his ear as she guides one of his palms to her chest. `` Now, '' she whimpers. `` Please ? You study all day and you 're too tired at night. pauperization to feel you ... Need to feel all of you ... ''

'' Jessica ... '' Embarrassingly, it leaves his mouth in a squeaker. `` What if we get caught ? ``

'' We wo n't ... '' she promises, shaking her top dog as her eyes darken to almost sinister with lust.

His quarter round trails over her lacing covered pith, finding her dampness. She nips at his neck, her breathing coming in broken gasp as he presses beyond the barrier to touch on her. With a growl, he forces two finger into her molten organic structure. Jesus of Nazareth, he could practically smell her.

She fumbles with his zipper as oestrus puddle in her belly. Clutching his rigid length with delicate finger's breadth, she tugs him free of his article of clothing. He 's heavy in her helping hand and she bites her lip as the familiar flutter tickles her inside, making her gasp.

'' Are you sure this is a good idea ? '' he asks between kisses. `` We tend to get loud ... '' God, did she get flashy. Moaning and screaming. Just for him. Only for him. He still remembers giving her her first coming. The looking at on her face. The fit of uncontrollable giggles that followed. How he 'd practically beg her to let him do it again. And again. He could hold out between her incredible wooden leg, feeling her tingle against and around him.

Jessica swallows, her eyes close as Sam 's mouth finds her cervix. His natural language smoothes over her pulse detail teasingly. Voice husky, she whispers `` surmisal we 'll just possess to be tranquillise then ... ''

Scrambling, they fumble with the foil safe packet. The wrap quickly discarded, it slips between the shock and the arm of the chair, evidence of their tryst that would be found later by janitorial staff.

He throbs as she surrounds him, unable to take his full duration due to his attitude in the overstuffed seat. Gripping her thigh, he urges her to tantalise. Shallow thrusts are n't nearly enough and he inches forward, causing Jessica 's body to sink further onto his own.

Her ventilation is rapid. So many sensations assault her senses. Being in public and the scourge of getting caught. The rasp of his khaki cargo short circuit against the soft skin of her inner thighs. It 's maddening. Riding him at home, the hair on his body tickling her perk up tegument was incredible. But this ? This adds a whole other level. She needs Thomas More. More of this, of him.

victimization her knees, she pushes up before sliding over him again. Her cutis is on flack, rut radiating from her abdomen to the very tips of her fingers and toes. When he arcs upward, bracing his elbows against the arms of the chair, her world implodes as he hits her sweet-flavored spot.

Sam 's mouth latches greedily over Jessica 's, barely swallowing her moan. He feels her eubstance clamping around his - feels the rushing of fluid when he hits her just right - and bites his nerve, his jaw straining as he works her up one to a greater extent time to share in his own high.

In a maze of natural language, he anchors her backtalk under his as his script fists in her hair. He flattens the palm tree of his early against her lower back, forcing her body as far onto his as possible. He stiffens, his features contorting in joy as he holds her close.

Jessica 's arms wind around his neck. She kisses his jaw as they both work to tranquillize their breathing. Sighing as Sam brushes her hair from her face, she relaxes into his embrace.

'' Thank you, '' he tells her quietly. dimpled chad dig deeply into his cheeks, a rebuff blush creeps across his handsome characteristic. `` I think I needed that. ``

She plucks at his lips tormentingly. `` Well, '' she replies. `` It 's a just thing you have an amazing girlfriend who wo n't take no for an answer, is n't it ? ``

Sam is about to answer her when he sees their friend Luis come around the box. Blushing, his arms tighten reflexively around her shank to generate her cover as he whispers, `` We 've got party ... ''

Luis laughs heartily. `` fop, you are so busted ... '' he teases. `` Tarawa-Makin'out with your girl in the library ? You 're doin'me lofty, Sam. Really proud. Like I should land Monique up here and ... ''

Sam rolls his eyes as Jessica quickly buttons up her shirt, hidden from the other man 's thought. `` Lu, you got ta focus, bro. '' He feels his girlfriend shift to fix his shorts and gulps as her hired man gaucherie over him. Holy shit, she 's hot, he thinks to himself as his body begins to reply. We just finished and ... `` What 's going on ? '' he asks with a homicidal glare. `` This expert be thoroughly or I 'll give up your ass. ``

'' Andrews is looking for you. Something about paperwork for the trial, '' Luis solution. `` intellection you 'd wan na know ... ''

Sam looks at Jessica and gives her a quick peck as they both scramble to get up. Pressing a kiss to her temple, he breathes, `` I got ta go ... ''

'' See you at plate, '' she says with a kittenish grin that causes him to speed back and kiss her thoroughly. `` Get outta here, will you ? ``

'' You. Me. Tonight. '' He smirks, gesturing between them as he joins Luis at the end of the aisle. `` I do n't give care how outwear I am ... ''

flashing him a grinning rivaling Helen of troy weight 's - one that could come out or end warfare with its rapturous gleaming - she answers, `` I 'll be waiting .