The Librarian Principle (5 page)

“Where did that picture come from? Are there more?”

Much to her dismay, his palm settled on the laptop.

“I really wouldn’t—”

Ryder ignored her half-made request and flipped it open. It only took a few seconds for the screen to flicker to life and the advertisement to pop up. The gif played in a loop, the vigorous pumping continuing endlessly.

Liese sighed. “I don’t think there’s a way to explain this without it sounding incredibly bad.”

She buried her face in her hands and wished she could disappear as Ryder began to inspect the advertisement. Liese peeked through her fingers to watch him lean forward, hands splayed on either side of the laptop. He squinted at the image, and then looked her over. His eyes moved down her body and back up, tracking her with an expression that bordered on predatory. Satisfied fascination knotted Liese’s stomach as the change took place: the undeniable draw she’d kept in check all this time echoed in his eyes. Some invisible line had been crossed, and Liese doubted she’d be able to return to the safety of the other side—the side where she pretended the attraction was all in her head.

“Please tell me that’s not you.” A note of aggression lent a sharp and bitter tang to the words. His fingers flexed against the desk, the tips turning white with pressure.

“It’s not my body,” Liese whispered, shaking her head.

“You’re quite sure about that?”

“It’s photoshopped.”

“Is that so?” He quirked an eyebrow, relief relaxed the tense line of his jaw. He inspected the scene again, apparently no longer fazed by the naked, gyrating bodies now that he knew she hadn’t made a porno and pasted his head on her previous partner. Ryder minimized the picture, allowing a series of folders to pop up on the screen.

“Do you have any idea how fortunate you are?” he asked as he moved the cursor over the page. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation. If anyone other than me had seen this, you would have been terminated immediately, regardless of how well you do your job.”

“I’m really so—” Liese stopped mid-apology, her eyes drawn to the moving cursor. “Don’t open that!” she screeched, lunging forward to cover the flood of thumbnails. He caught her hand mid-air, and her collection of Ryder-inspired porn became a glaring beacon on the screen.

“Jesus,” he choked, his fingers gripping hers, keeping her close as he processed the images. And there were a hell of a lot of them. “What the . . .”

There were more than thirty thumbnails, so it was difficult to figure out which photo held his attention until he slid his finger across the mouse and clicked on an image.

It exploded onto the screen like a porn-tastic grenade. Of all the pictures available in her “RW” file, he had to choose this one. Liese had never taken the time to fully appreciate the lengths to which Marissa had gone to make the photos realistic, but this particular image showcased her talent well. Her knowledge of Liese’s pornographic predilections might have been embarrassing, but Ryder bearing witness to them was a humiliation too severe to endure.

Liese saw herself perched on all fours on the bed, her long hair wrapped around “Ryder’s” hand as he took her doggy style. The fingers of his free hand were anchored in the black satin laces holding her leather corset together. A blindfold covered her eyes. Black garters and ripped hose completed the look. The action shot had caught the penetration mid-thrust, lending it an erotic charge some of the other pictures lacked. That and the red handprint on her ass.

“Sweet mother of all things holy. Am I . . . Are you . . . Is that?” He released her hand and used the table for support to get a better look at the image. Ryder exhaled a labored breath, and his fingers went to his mouth, tapping at his lip in agitation.

Liese couldn’t recall a previous occasion when he’d been anything less than composed and articulate. And she had no justifiable defense for the image. But part of her wanted him to react to it, wanted the wanting to stop so they could just give in already.

“They’re photoshopped,” she repeated.

His gaze lifted, and the heaviness of it made her squirm. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that already. My question is where the hell did the photos come from?”

“Um, well . . .” Liese hesitated, trying to think of a way to word it without making the situation worse. “It’s . . . it’s difficult to explain.”

“Explain anyway,” he ordered.

“It’s embarrassing,” she warned. For a fleeting moment she considered elbowing him out of the way and smashing the laptop. Then there would be no more proof the pictures existed. However, she doubted she was fast enough, or strong enough, to get it from him. Also, replacing it would be costly, and if she was out of a job that would be even more difficult.

Ryder’s index finger made a continual circuit around the perimeter of the machine. “I imagine it is. However, I still want to know where the photos came from and whether I should be concerned about finding them posted all over the Internet.”

“Oh, God no. Marissa—my friend made them. She meant to be funny, although she didn’t really succeed. I mean, obviously I’m not laughing at those photos.” Liese motioned to the screen, her face reddening. Ryder continued to glare at her in silence. “She knew I thought you were . . . she wanted to . . . I—I—”

“You thought I was what?”

Liese ducked her head, focusing on his tie, which seemed the safest place to keep her eyes. “It’s really not appropriate.”

“And this is?”

Liese wanted to rewind her day and go back to the moment she’d misplaced her thumb drive. If she’d taken another minute to look around, or had the foresight to email the damn document to Ryder instead, she wouldn’t be in this position.

“No, sir.” Liese’s focus remained on the dark blue and silver pinstripes against a backdrop of white. A stray image of her fist wrapped around a similar tie popped into her head. In it, she was pulling his mouth down to hers, their lips a hair’s breadth apart.

“Look at me.”

She wanted to feel some sort of ire, but couldn’t. And though his words sounded like a command, a hint of yearning below their surface seemed to parallel her own. Liese held her breath, catching the movement of his hand out of the corner of her eye. Warm, soft fingers slid under her chin and tilted her head up, compelling her. And in that moment, the world inverted itself.

He was close, so close, too close—yet not close enough. She could see the flecks of blue in his eyes, fanning out into a vibrant green threaded with gold until they merged, creating the vivid aquamarine she wanted to drown in.

“I want to know . . .” His seductive whisper floated on the air around them, the thought never finished. His thumb swept back and forth along the edge of her jaw, a hypnotizing sensation, soothing and exhilarating, making her body buzz.

Liese raised a tentative hand, her fingers trembling as they grazed the fabric of his suit jacket. She couldn’t find her voice. No longer able to maintain the veneer of professional distance, she swayed forward; thankful Ryder appeared to struggle just as she did.

“I shouldn’t,” he murmured, inclining his head, his mouth only an inch from hers.

He wet the plush curve of his bottom lip with his tongue. She noted a pale, thin scar—an imperfection in an otherwise flawless face. Liese raised her gaze to his, the dark edge of desire mirrored there. The softest sound left her, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper. Ryder closed his eyes, cutting off her view of the emotional storm that raged behind them.

His fingers curled into her hair, tightening at the nape of her neck as his free arm wrapped around her waist. He stepped in, his body pressed against hers. This was nothing like the uncomfortable hug they’d shared weeks prior, nor the fleeting touches since then.

Liese’s eyes fluttered shut, lips parting in expectation. Just as she felt the warmth of his breath against her mouth, the school-wide public announcement system clicked on, an abrasive beep filtering into the room.

Liese became acutely aware of his erection against her stomach. Ryder’s mouth, so temptingly close, hovered above her own. Uncertainty paralyzed her.

“Mr. Whitehall, call for you on line four,” Betty, the office secretary, announced over the PA. A four-second pause ensued, wherein neither of them moved, followed by a repeat of the same message.

“Fuck,” Ryder exhaled, his breath warm against her cheek.

“Okay.”

“Pardon?” He seemed to snap back into reality. His hand dropped from her hair, and he took a step away, putting some much-needed, but unpleasant space between them.

“Nothing.” Liese scanned the room, disoriented and unnerved.

In a particularly graceful move, he reached around her and grabbed the laptop. “I think I’ll take this with me. I expect to see you at the end of the day so you can explain why exactly you have pornographic images of the two of us together on your laptop.” He waited a beat and gave her a curt nod. “Have a good afternoon, Ms. Harper.”

And with that he walked out of her office, leaving her wondering if the almost-kiss had been a figment of her imagination.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.
Oh my God
.” Liese leaned against her desk and tried to calm her racing heart.

Ryder had her laptop. He had access to all of her saved porn. All of it. And there was a lot. Like, more than there reasonably should be. Beyond the doctored images of the man himself, she had a small collection of videos she definitely didn’t want him to see. She should never have brought her personal computer to work.

Even if he did seem to share her mutual attraction, once Ryder browsed the contents of the folder, he would probably fire her anyway. If he reported her to the board, she’d be forced to stand before a committee and talk about her porn problem. The potential consequences made her skin crawl with shame.

Liese spent the rest of the day in a haze of restlessness
,
petrified of the meeting to come. Yet while she worried about her impending termination, a small part of her fixated on what had almost transpired between them. Unless she was mistaken, Ryder had almost kissed her. Knowing she affected him that way lent her a dangerous sense of power. If the opportunity arose again she wouldn’t have the restraint to deny him. The evidence of his arousal pressed against her stomach had felt like a victory.

Level-headed and driven, Liese had always given her career precedence over her sex drive. In college she’d refused a serious relationship for fear it might interfere with her academic standing. As a result, her father hadn’t worried about her future profession. But, her mother’s concerns during her undergraduate years had centered on her love life.

She cringed to think how they’d react if she lost her job over porn. As a sex therapist, her mother had always encouraged Liese to try what “felt natural.” But Liese doubted her mom meant she should entertain a taboo relationship with her principal and allow Marissa to create photoshopped fetish porn to spur on the infatuation. She couldn’t know for sure, though, because her parents had gone on a backpacking expedition in Europe. They’d left in early September and wouldn’t be back for several more weeks. Communication had been limited to brief emails and attempted Skypings with poor reception.

Liese dropped into her chair and gave her school-issued computer a malignant glare. In need of a diversion, she perused the Internet for new library resources, all the while pondering whether this would be her last day at FAHL. If so, she would at least ensure the library was well stocked with acceptable literature.

A romance novel flashed on the screen: a cut male body, chopped off at the head and below the navel, took up most of the cover. Her brain immediately pasted Ryder’s head onto the body and filled in the missing pieces below the waist. Flustered, she tapped the back button until the image disappeared.

“Get a grip,” she told herself.

“Liese?” Blake startled her out of her self-flagellation.

“Hey! Hi. Hello.” She greeted him with a little too much enthusiasm.

He leaned on the counter and adjusted her Post-it notes so they were stacked perfectly on top of each other—a square rainbow. “You all right? You look a little flushed.”

“Hmm, what? Oh . . . I’m fine.” Liese touched her cheek to find the skin warm beneath her fingers.

“You sure about that? You really don’t look well.” Blake reached out and brushed her bangs out of the way, pressing his wrist against her forehead.