Elite (Eagle Elite) - By Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,44

had somehow maneuvered his hands underneath my mop of hair, and was in the process of massaging my neck.

In class being massaged by the substitute teacher. So not how I planned my second week of school going.

But dang, if my neck wasn’t sore. I leaned heavily against his hand as he pushed against the tight muscles, and then I felt his other hand move beneath my shirt. No, no he wasn’t. No. No.

One strategic sinful hand massaged while the other one dove beneath my shirt. If he was going to cop a feel, his balls would be on the opposite end of my pencil.

Whatever his other hand was doing, it felt good. He had moved down my back and was playing with the fastener on my bra. I tried to wiggle away. He laughed, much to my horror, so I stayed put.

“Hmm, I took you for more of a comfortable type of girl. Is this lace?” His lips tickled my ear.

Unable to use words, because clearly I’d forgotten an alphabet existed, I nodded.

“It’s sexy.”

Heat pooled in my stomach as his lips touched my ear again, this time his teeth came out and tugged slightly on my ear almost making me gasp. His hand shot out from my shirt as someone turned around.

Great, now it looked like political history turned me on.

That’s just what I needed to be spread around the school.

New girl moos in front of student body and orgasms during Freshman Politics.

Awesome.

I felt my face heat with embarrassment as a guy from class looked from me to Nixon and then back to me.

Nixon must have done something scary from behind me because the guy’s eyes widened and then he turned around, his back ramrod straight.

I wasn’t sure if I was irritated that Nixon kept his hands off me throughout the rest of class, or excited. By the time class ended a half hour later, the jury was still out.

After stuffing my politics book into my new Prada bag, I yawned and made my way toward the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Nixon asked the minute my toe stepped over the threshold of the door.

“To class?” I refused to turn around, and why the heck was I always last? My hand moved to my cross necklace. It had become one of those things I did when I was nervous. I grabbed the necklace and rubbed the cross. Great, now I need supernatural power just to be in the same room as Nixon.

“Come here.”

“I didn’t hear please.” I smirked, but still didn’t turn around.

His breath fanned my neck. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw his muscle arms lean on the doorframe as he slowly closed the door. “Please.”

I counted to three and turned around expecting one of two things. Either he was going to murder me or kiss me. There really wasn’t any other logical option, not with Nixon.

“Sit,” he commanded.

I dropped my bag to the floor and crossed my arms.

“Please.” He smirked.

“Fine.” I went over to the desk closest to me and sat on it, careful not to let my skirt hike up. Tempting the devil wasn’t the smartest thing to do, considering we were alone.

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“I won’t have sex with you. I’m not that kind of girl.” I tilted my head and basked in the glory of taking Nixon by surprise, and also getting my revenge after he blurted all of that out in the middle of the dance floor last week.

“I deserved that.” He leaned against the teacher’s desk.

“And more.”

“Care to punish me?”

“I’m leaving.” With a huff I pushed away from the desk and grabbed my bag.

“Wait.” Nixon’s hand was on my arm. “I just, I wanted to warn you. Be careful, okay?”

I nodded.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” His voice almost sounded insecure.

“Yup, remember? I’ve got your key card.” Something I noticed this morning when I rode the elevator down to the first floor of my dorm and did a fist pump!

“Keep it.” Nixon’s eyes fell to my necklace again. “Another favor?”

“Wow, you’re just full of requests this morning, aren’t you?”

Wrong thing to say.

Nixon’s eyes heated as he stepped forward and with a little tug had me flush against his body. “Oh, I can think of some more favors. How bad do you want an A?”

“Not bad enough to see you naked.”

He laughed softly and tilted my chin toward him. It was becoming a habit, looking into his eyes. I hated that I was getting used to him