It was a late afternoon, and the library was hushed as always, a haven of solitude and well-worn books. Jamie hunched over his stack of notes, earbuds tucked in as he struggled to focus on the chaos of equations splayed out on his laptop. The shy, nervous nineteen-year-old had barely left his seat all day, pushing through with dedication and discipline that bordered on compulsive. After all, who else would willingly spend a Saturday afternoon here? He was an obvious mark--the kind of boy who never looked up, kept to himself, his cheeks always tinged pink around strangers.
And she saw him.
Lena was there to research for her latest project--at least, that was the intention. But her attention had shifted the moment she spotted Jamie buried under those books, his dark lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, biting his lip as he studied. She had an eye for these types, the quiet, overlooked ones with untapped intensity simmering beneath the surface. He seemed so absorbed, and Lena knew how to shake that focus just right.
She eased her way down the aisle and stopped right in front of his table. For a long, pregnant moment, she simply watched him, letting her shadow fall over his screen. When he finally looked up, she was there, leaning with casual elegance, one brow arched in playful curiosity.
"Oh, sorry," she murmured, not moving an inch. Her voice was a little too smooth, her smile a little too knowing. "Didn't mean to interrupt. You looked... focused."
His mouth opened, then closed, and he swallowed, glancing away like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to keep looking. "Uh, no, it's-- it's fine. I was just, uh, studying," he stammered, his words spilling out in a clumsy heap. She kept her gaze steady, letting him fumble and flounder.
"I could see that. You looked... dedicated," she purred, eyes catching the way his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his earbuds, which he'd abandoned now, all attention on her. Her long, manicured fingers traced an invisible line on the table's edge, every movement slow and deliberate, like she was savoring the effect she was having on him. "Calculus?"
He nodded, flushing as if ashamed to admit it. "Yeah. Exam next week."
"Figures." She chuckled softly, the sound warm but laced with a hint of something almost predatory. "You don't get out much, do you?"
He swallowed, his eyes darting to the side, that blush deepening as he muttered, "I-- well, I do, sometimes, just... I'm busy with school and..." He trailed off, clearly flustered under her gaze. Lena tilted her head, feigning sympathy, but her eyes glinted with amusement. She let her gaze linger a touch too long on his lips, then on the nervous bob of his throat.
"Pity. All work, no play. Such a waste," she murmured, her tone low, rich, brimming with unspoken possibilities. She straightened, stretching slowly, the fabric of her blouse straining over her curves. His eyes flickered over her figure before he could help himself, but he quickly looked away, his blush now reaching the tips of his ears.
"Maybe," he muttered, sounding both embarrassed and eager. His gaze kept darting back, as if drawn despite himself, each glance betraying that desperate curiosity he was trying so hard to hide.
Lena leaned in, her voice dropping just for him. "If you ever feel like taking a break, Jamie, just let me know. I think you'd be... fun to loosen up." The way she said his name, drawing it out, felt like a touch in itself, smooth and warm, coiling around him. He stammered out something--she couldn't even make out the words, only the shy desperation laced through them. That was enough for her.
Her fingers brushed over his hand as she pushed his notebook toward him. "Just don't study too hard," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear, savoring the way he stiffened, his lips parting as she lingered close for a moment too long. She pulled away with a smile, leaving him in a haze of confusion, his chest heaving, his thoughts scrambled.
Lena's hips swayed as she walked away, her presence like a challenge in the air, inviting him to follow. And damn it if he didn't want to, his body suddenly aching, his mind unable to shake the images she'd painted with her words, with those looks that promised much more than an innocent invitation.
Jamie spent that entire night trying to shake her from his mind, but it was hopeless. No matter how hard he tried to focus on equations or read the same line of his textbook, he kept seeing her sly smile, those knowing eyes, that subtle roll of her hips as she'd walked away, every step leaving him more entangled in her web. That face, that mouth--he'd seen her before. But where?
It clicked suddenly, around midnight, as he lay in bed, eyes wide, blood surging hot with the realization. That smirk. That voice. Lena. No wonder she looked so familiar--she was the very woman he'd been jerking off to for months, the same woman he'd found by accident one night on a quiet, cam site that had rocked his entire world.
In her streams, she was playful, unattainable, yet somehow...intimate. He remembered her seductive glances, her curves wrapped in silk or lace, how she would run her hands down her smooth, peachy thighs, lips parted as she teased her viewers, her every move steeped in an unhurried, simmering confidence. Every time she positioned herself on all fours, her lush, round ass arched high, he'd lose control, his fingers fumbling as he tried to keep himself steady.
Now that same woman knew his name, had stood close enough for him to breathe her in, leaving him dazed, burning with want. The thought alone was enough to have him gripping himself under the covers, imagining that she knew, that she'd somehow orchestrated it, that her teasing looks were all part of a plan to leave him hanging.
The next day, he couldn't concentrate, barely ate, barely moved from his bed, replaying that encounter over and over. He tried to tell himself that he'd made a mistake, that it was too absurd to be true. But then, two days later, she appeared again, like a storm rolling in. He was back in the library, almost hoping she wouldn't come--but dreading more that she wouldn't.
"Miss me?" She sauntered up to his table, dressed in a leather jacket over a low-cut top that hugged every curve, her jeans perfectly framing that same unforgettable ass. Her eyes sparkled as if she'd guessed every wicked thought he'd had. Jamie's face burned, heart racing, his mind tumbling into chaos.
"I--um--" he stammered, caught in her gaze, unable to look away, certain she could see every secret he'd ever kept. She laughed softly, low and velvety, her lips curving in that smile he'd memorized.
Lena leaned forward, her fingertips grazing his notebook. "You know, I noticed how you looked at me last time." Her words were a quiet murmur, barely audible, each one laced with daring confidence, like a cat teasing a cornered mouse. "And I could have sworn I've seen you before. Tell me, Jamie...have you seen me somewhere?"
