Title: Library (1/1)

Fandom: Community

Rating: R

Genre: Romance, PWP

Characters/Pairings: Jeff/Annie, mentions of others

Spoilers: For things regarding Professor Slater and Rich, and for Theatre, the fanfic before this one.

Summary: Annie's tired of Jeff taking the upper hand then backing away: she decides to take matters into her own hands. Sequel to Theatre.

It had been two days since the incident in the theatre, and Jeff was almost certain he'd imagined the whole thing. Mainly because Annie hadn't said a word about it since that night.

They hadn't had a chance to follow up on his plans to whisk her away back to his apartment, mainly due to the machinations of their friends. Shirley'd insisted upon driving Annie and Britta home, and the next morning they hadn't had a moment to talk in private.

That he could understand. He just didn't get why she wouldn't talk to him after that, either. Jeff had spent the whole day before becoming more and more distracted, annoyed, worried, frustrated… any negative emotion Ian Duncan could name, Jeff Winger had in spades.

But not this morning. This morning all that bad feeling was replaced by something far warmer and more confused. This morning, she had come to sit next opposite him in the library, in the secluded spot he'd chosen to hide from a Chang-attack, and sat so close that their knees - hers bare for the first time since the theatre - could brush under the table. So that every time she turned her head - which she did every five seconds, it seemed - he could smell her shampoo.

It was maddening. And somehow, it felt like she was enjoying it.

Jeff focused hard on the Anthropology textbook in front of him, discovering that, for the first time ever, studying had a useful purpose: distracting him from the girl just a few feet away, looking all innocent and studious in her button-down white blouse and short black skirt. Did she know he had a thing for sexy librarians?

Glancing across and seeing that he was firmly focused on his work, Annie smiled to herself and slipped one black ballet flat off, extending her leg towards his to brush her toes against his hard calf muscle. She repressed a pleased grin when the muscle jump and twitch, when she heard him take a deeper breath to hide a gasp.

How did she manage to cause such an effect in him? She wasn't snarky and experienced like Britta or mature and grown-up sexy like Professor Slater. And yet, somehow, all she had to do was play a little footsie and Jeff Winger's breath caught. It baffled her, and caused a little thrill of power to run down her spine.

She had spent the day before trying to get up the guts to go confront him about it all. It didn't seem fair to play with her like this: kiss her, then say she was too young; drive off Rich then say he didn't know if he wanted her; finger her in the theatre then not say a word the next day. She wondered if maybe she should let it go, act cold and aloof and grown-up, try to gain some distance and control over herself.

Then again: revenge would be far more fun. She played student, deeply engrossed in her textbook, chewing on a pencil. She sensed him look up, see her concentration, then turn back to his work. She tried not to smile when she heard another little surprised breath: her toes were stroking themselves up and down his calf, from the back of his knee to the top of his ankle. She heard him swallow again, and felt his eyes on her.

Jeff stared at her for a moment: Annie was still sat, the picture of concentration, pencil sliding between her lips, in and out. He swallowed again, harder this time, brain going to a rather hot, dark, dirty place, just watching that pencil slide in and out of that warm, wet little mouth. She would have looked innocent, except for the secret little smug smile curving her lips.

Minx!

His breath hitched again as her foot raised higher, around the back of his knee, up the inside of his thigh. She never looked up, not for a second as her toes brushed higher and higher, finally rubbing against his steadily hardening cock.

Jeff groaned, and Annie's smirk became even more pronounced.

"Annie?" he tried to contain another groan, "Wha-What're you doing?"

She looked up, pseudo-innocent, "I don't know what you're talking about."

She pressed harder, and Jeff clamped his thighs shut around her foot, trapping it there, "You know what I'm talking about." he deliberately ground against her foot, and her eyes widened. "You know what they say about playing with fire…" his threw her his dirtiest smirk, and watched her eyes dilate.

That was just unfair: one downright filthy glance from him, and her brain short-circuited. She extracted her foot, slowly, drawing out its path down his leg, then ran her hand through her hair to loosen it around her face. She closed her book, rose to her feet, and very deliberately went to replace it on a shelf right above Jeff's head.

She reached up, over his head, putting the book back on a very high shelf. He saw her shirt ride up just a little to reveal a strip of pale stomach, right over his face, and his smile widened. He leaned forward, and licked a line across that patch of skin, feeling the flesh shudder under his tongue. Then, just to be mean, he blew along the wet line, causing her to shiver.

Annie felt her knees buckle just as Jeff's large, warm hands gripped her hips, and hoisted her firmly onto his lap. To her credit, she adapted quickly to the position, glad they'd picked the larger chairs at the back of the room to do this on as she placed her knees on the outside of his hips, straddling his lap.

"Well, hello there." she grinned down at him, and nearly moaned just from the smirk on his face. She sat down a little further, squirming to make herself comfortable, and felt something rock-hard and unmistakable press up to meet her, "Someone's happy to see me." she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ignore him, everything you do makes him happy." he muttered this last, and Annie felt her smile widen.

"Hmm, is that so?" she giggled, and shifted again to press on the bulge in his jeans. His eyes fluttered closed, his mouth slackened.

It was official: Annie in control definitely turned him on. And he was okay with that, so long as she didn't stop shimmying her hips just there…

He groaned, loudly. Annie glanced about, all of a sudden aware of where they were and what they were doing. Why couldn't this stuff ever happen in an appropriate setting? Why did there always have to be people around?

She leaned in, lips right next to his ear, and whispered, "Keep quiet."

He shuddered, felt himself grow even harder at her repetition of his earlier command. The whole scene of a confident, slightly domineering, smiling Annie straddling his lap was very much to his liking.

She glanced down, then back up again, biting her lip with a wicked little smirk that suddenly made him both nervous and excited all at once. Then she was working his belt buckle, then the button and zipper of his jeans, and a moment later there he was, exposed in the Greendale library, his cock wrapped in the hot, clever little hands of Annie Edison. He let his head slide back as, with more expertise than he had expected, she ran her hands up and down his shaft, eyes fixed on his face the whole time.

Annie suppressed a little giggle of triumph, drunk on control. This was the best possible retaliation: reducing Jeff Winger to the same hot mess he'd made of her just a few days before. Made brave and far, far too curious, she experimentally ran one palm down his shaft, into his pants, and cupped his balls, giving them a tentative little squeeze.

"Guuuuuuh…" he exhaled, groaning, and Annie frowned at how loud he was. This was about proving who was in control here, and that wasn't allowed. She leaned into his ear again, and murmured, "I told you to be quiet. Make another sound and I'll get up and leave."

Jeff's eyes flew open at that, more turned on than he had thought possible. He imagined that that was sort of the point. Her eyes narrowed at him, warningly, her hands stopped still, and he nodded.

"Good." she muttered, and went back to work, one hand pumping his shaft, the other one moving between rubbing the tip and squeezing his balls. His hips thrusted into her hands, his own hands squeezed her hips with every movement of her palms.

"One… problem…" he gasped out, and sent her a look that made her stop for a second.

"What?" she cocked her head to one side in a motion that was just too cute for words, a little frown furrowing her brow. She suddenly looked so sweet, so gorgeous in a completely different kind of way, that an entirely new warmth started to build in his stomach. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"No! No, this is - this is great, just gonna be making a mess sometime pretty soon, if you keep doing such a great job."

At which point, Annie did something that Jeff was entirely unprepared for. She grinned, that same evil, sexy grin he'd never seen before today and hoped would come again, "Oh, I know." She removed her hands from his pants, braced them on both sides of the chair, and pushed herself down so she was knelt between his feet.

And then, to Jeff's utter surprise and complete delight, started to enthusiastically suck him off.

There was no need for commands for silence now - Jeff was too far gone and too shocked even to form the necessary vowel sounds.

Annie, for her part, was now running on a heady mix of lust, adrenaline, and pure impulse. She wasn't the scared little almost-virgin she'd been last year at the STD Awareness day. She'd dated Vaughn since, who had been pretty experienced himself: she could handle Jeff Winger better than he would expect. She even found she was enjoying the experience - he was bucking his hips forwards unconsciously, fucking her mouth as she ran her tongue over him.

She swiveled her tongue around his tip, experimentally curling it to surround him.

FUUUUUCK! Jeff's brain had been reduced to screaming obscenities, as his whole body stiffened and he came into her mouth.

She grinned when he was done, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She wouldn't want to do that too often, but the look of stunned adoration on his face was more than enough consolation. She moved back, and scooted back up into her own chair, returning to the same position they'd started in.

Then she picked up her backpack, swung it onto her shoulders, and sauntered around the table. As she passed him, she leaned down and murmured, "You can speak now."

"Um…" Jeff had to admit, for the first time in a long while, he was utterly speechless. She gave one last little gurgle of laughter, which sounded far more knowing and womanly than she had any right to sound, and strolled away.

"Damn."