The Book Club (18+ Only) [COMPLETED]

2: In Which She Visits a Paradise

“How…how’d you know?” I asked, referring to David Fuentes.

“David’s been blabbing to everyone at the paper. He says you just lay there like a log.”
“What?”

Erin shook her head. “Bad idea fúcking him. Yes, the guy’s sexy – but he’s a prick. You should’ve run this by me.”

I groaned loudly. “I’m going to cut his nut sack off and mail it to his grandmother.”

“Whose nut sack?” Prince’s voice sang from the hallway.

“Stop eavesdropping, Sherlock!” I called back over my shoulder.

“Does he know what he likes yet?” Erin asked curiously, nodding in the direction of Prince’s voice.

“That’s his business. Or do you fancy the guy?”

“Oh please, Jan. I like my men very heterosexual, thank you very much.” She paused. “So will you go? To the library?”

“If it’s so awesome, why don’t you go?” I grumbled, annoyed.

“Because I went last year,” she said cryptically.

I shook my head. “So the public library has become a place to pick up guys? Do all the eligible bachelors converge there with their library cards in hand?”

“You’re so stubborn.” Erin punched my shoulder lightly, laughing. “Look, reading is relaxing. You need to relax. After the Baxter incident…”

I reddened, instantly going back to that fateful day. I had to admit, watching Erin and that weirdo getting it on was a turn-on. I was never one for kinky porn – the kinkiest I got was sex in the bathtub after all – but observing an actual twosome getting it on in front of me was…well, it was hot.

“Reading as a group can be fun, especially if the book is…interesting,” Erin pointed out. “I don’t know why I’ve never referred you to the library,” she said to herself, smacking her forehead.

“Do they have snacks?”

“Oh yes, plenty.”

“Fine then. I’m in. Just find out what they’re reading for me?”

“Of course, honey. I promise you won’t regret it.”

*

 

The last time I’d stepped into the Bradley Kingston Public Library, I was a fifteen-year-old teen who’d just discovered Mills & Boon books. I remember the face on the librarian when I’d pushed across her desk what I’d neatly written on a scrap of paper: Where are the sexy books?