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I get to class early to set everything up and go through what I missed on Friday when the door to the classroom opens. My head snaps up and I immediately lock on the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Layla sets her stuff down on the table in front of the chair she usually occupies in the back and then with determined strides, marches in my direction.
“What are you doing here? Class doesn’t start for at least another thirty minutes.”
“I know,” she says, stopping right in front of my desk. “I came in early thinking you’d be here. I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
I wish she hadn’t, because she’s wearing a tight black tank top that shows off the fact that she’s once again not wearing a bra and tiny shorts that reveal her long, long legs. Her hair is up in a high ponytail that I can’t help but want to wrap around my fist. She smells like fucking cherries and almonds, and since I know exactly what her pussy tastes like……fuck, I’m already wound too tight.
“I’m fine,” I clip out because I need her to go before I do something I can’t undo.
Her eyes cling to my face, studying me, and then she glances around the empty classroom. In a flash she’s around my desk, standing before me and forcing my head to crane back so I can take her in.
“What are you doing? You can’t do this.” Though somehow, my hands are already on her hips. Probably to push her away, but I don’t. Instead, they start to climb, sinking under the hem of her tank top so I can feel her soft skin. Just for a moment.
“I can either drop to my knees out here or you can take me into that closet, and I can do it in there.”
I choke on my own saliva, startled by her bold offer. She licks her lips, showing off that goddamn tongue ring, and fuck do I want her to drop to her knees. I’ve wanted that since I first saw her and that piece of metal spearing her tongue.
“You should go back to your seat, or better yet, go get a coffee before class.”
“How close to the edge are you?” she asks instead, and I hate that I’m so visible to her.
I stand and I shouldn’t because it kicks the fantasy she’s offering me up a notch, but I can’t look serious and forbidding when I’m sitting. “Leave, Layla. This can’t happen.”
“Here or in the storage closet?” she demands, her gaze unwavering. My cock is visibly hard, and I know she’s aware of it even though she hasn’t glanced down. Her hips rock toward me ever so slightly in a move I’m not even sure she was conscious of. “You have five seconds before I decide for you.”
“You’re not going to give me a blow job here at school or anywhere else. No.”
“Yes. Five. Four.”
“Layla, stop. Just go. Fuck, just go.”
“Three. Two. On—”
Before she can finish her countdown, I grab her arm and haul her toward the closet. I open the door and then toss her inside, slamming the door behind us. “Cut it out! I know you think you’re helping me or whatever, but I don’t need you complicating my life any more than it’s already complicated.”
She steps into me, her chest pressing to mine, her tits to my shirt, and her hip bone against my aching cock.
“I’m not going to complicate your life,” she promises so sincerely my chest quakes. “This will only be right here, and it will only be right now, and it will stay between us. We’ll keep it simple. It’ll just be a release because you look like you’re ready to snap. I think you need to unleash yourself on someone and I’m telling you,beggingfor you to unleash on me.”
I just about lose my mind with that. My hand snatches her ponytail, wrapping it around my fist as I had imagined. My forehead falls to hers and I lick the seam of her lips. “There is nothing simple about you. Nothing simple about any of this. If we get caught—”
“You better push me down onto my knees and come down my throat before that happens.”
I groan, my eyes clenching tight. Fuck. She’s right. I need this. I need her. But how…
“Fuck my mouth, Callan. I can take it. Hell, I want it. It’s making me so wet just thinking about it. So do it.”
My hand goes up her shirt and I savagely palm her tit, pinching her nipple to punish her for doing this to me. “Do you ever wear a bra?”
“Not if I can help it. I hate them and lucky for me I have cute, perky tits that are small enough I can get away with it.”
“I love your fucking tits.”
“You’re about to love my mouth more.” She drops to her knees right in front of me and stares up at me, waiting for instruction. She is a siren men would willingly jump to their deaths for. A temptress that is impossible to resist. Never have I wanted—craved—a woman the way I do her.
“Take me out.”
She licks her lips again and then eagerly goes for my belt, undoing the buckle with a heavy metal jingle and then my button and zipper are next.
