He spotted her in the far end of the stacks reaching for a book on the top shelf. She was short, barely five feet, he guessed, and the top shelf was just out of her reach. “Can I help?” he asked, and when she turned to him he was smitten. Those green eyes! “That would be good,” she said. He reached up and brought down the book. Only later did he think what he should have done is lifted her up. “The one next to it,” she said. He brought down the one next to it, and she said, “No, I’m sorry, the one on the other side.” Now he had three books. “Thank you so much,” she said. “They should really put a ladder here,” he said, thinking he wouldn’t mind watching her climb a ladder. “They have stools somewhere,” she said. “If I’d been thinking ahead. I didn’t know it would be on the top shelf.”

He found himself walking next to her to a table where she had a notebook and some other books. He was carrying all three books. He set them down. Something about farming. He sat next to her, an instant later realizing he hadn’t been invited—but the way she looked at him. Inquiring. Interested. He didn’t know what to say. “Are you writing a paper about ... farming?” She nodded, grinning.

“I used to live out in the country,” he told her. “When I walked to school down an old gravel road there were farms on both sides. Cows. I’d have bad dreams that they’d lean over the fences. I was frightened of them.”

“That they would bite you?” she asked.

“I guess so. Or lick me.”

She laughed. “I don’t think I’ve had any cow dreams,” she said.

“What sort of dreams do you have?” he asked.

“Sex dreams,” she said. Her green eyes. Impish. Daring.

He wanted so much to ask her about her sex dreams.

“Do you have sex dreams?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” he said.

“Maybe tonight you’ll dream of me,” she said.

“I think I must be dreaming right now,” he said.

The lights blinked.

“I guess they’re going to close,” she said. “I’d better get these checked out.” She stood up.

“Aren’t you coming?” she asked.

“I can’t really stand up right now,” he said. “I’m kind of...”

She glanced at his groin. “Erect?” she said.

He nodded.

“I’m more than a little wet,” she said. “Soaking.”

“You are?”

She nodded. She took his hand and urged him to stand. “Walk close behind me and no one will notice.”

He followed her to the counter. Then into the hall. “I’m going to drop these in my locker,” she told him. “Then I’m going to kiss you.”

The kiss took his breath away. They kissed and kissed. She moved his hand to the button of her jeans. The zipper. He pushed her panties aside. He felt the nub of her clit. The slippery wet of her cunt. All while kissing. Her gasp and the suck of her cunt told him she was coming. She clung to him and he came too. They held each other.

“I wish we could make love,” he whispered.

“We can,” she said. “When the time is right.”

“When will that be?” he asked.

“In about eleven seconds,” she said.

Those green eyes. Naughty. Lewd. Loving.

Actually the lovemaking didn’t happen for almost twenty minutes—enough time for them to get to her place not quite six blocks away.