2 ~ Getting What He Craved.

HAWTHORNE's POV

Finally, I nodded to Jamie, who stood waiting by the circulation desk, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

He followed me to the back office—a small, windowless room tucked behind the desk, with a worn leather couch, a cluttered desk, and shelves of forgotten returns.

Perfect for privacy.

I locked the door behind us, the click loud in the sudden quiet. The air felt thick, charged, like the moment before a storm breaks.

As I turned around and without the library's space between us, he towered over me—six-foot-something of solid muscle, his hoodie hugging every curve.

My predatory smile slipped out as...