bare, it doesn’t take long for him to work me until I need more than just his mouth and fingers. After sheathing him with a condom, I grab his hard length and guide it to my slick entrance, sinking onto him until he curses and groans. He grips my hips as I set a steady rhythm. His fingertips dig into me as his teeth tease my breasts, nipping, licking, and tugging at my beaded nipples until I ride him faster to chase an orgasm that quickly heats my core.
He holds me closer as he thrusts upward to meet my hips every time, and it’s everything I need. Silence. Lust. Want. It’s impersonal and sweaty but it works for us. The only thing that fills the room is our quickened breaths and subtle noises as we get closer and closer to the cliff we both want to jump off.
I kiss him hard and push him down flat on his back, using his chest as a way to hold myself upright as I circle my hips over him. He lets me use him, his head tipping back when I grind my hips against him and find the perfect position for his pubic bone to rub against my clit until I’m clenching around his length.
Digging my fingertips into his chest as I come, I feel him twitch and drive into me twice more before he finds release too.
I use his body as a pillow only long enough for the sated feeling to wear off. Once I climb off him and grab my clothes from the floor, I look over my shoulder to see his eyes on the ceiling as he catches his breath.
I say, “Thanks for the casserole.”
Chapter Six
The warm air from the heater I sit next to warms my cool skin as I sift through paperwork for students I’m tutoring this semester. Despite the wool jacket, thick sweater, and jeans I’m wearing, my cheeks and nose still feel numb from the bitter air outside. It’s the only reason people don’t side-eye me for sitting on the floor where it’s warm rather than one of the tables assigned for tutoring sessions.
When the front door opens behind me, a rush of cold air blows my hair and causes shivers to race down my spine. The door clicking shut has me looking over my shoulder, wondering if my first student arrived early. Doubtful, but there’s always at least one person who takes their grades seriously. The first week is always rough though because it just consists of meeting the people you’re working with for the next fifteen weeks and going over paperwork and expectations.
Expectations like actually showing up.
But it’s not a student that’s searching the room. Carter Ford is sporting a long black coat that’s buttoned to fit his bulky body and charcoal pants that are looser than the ones he wore Tuesday. He looks professional as his eyes scan the room for … what?
I clear my throat and stand, catching his attention. His brows draw up as I approach him, setting down papers on the table. “What can I help you with, Professor Ford?”
“It’s Carter.”
Not here, it’s not.
I simply wait for him to reply.
He senses as much. “I was told I could find Maggie Fields here. I’m supposed to speak with her about setting up accommodations for a student in one of my courses.”
I nod and gesture for him to follow me to Ms. Fields’s office in the back. Typically students are encouraged to seek their own help from the Student Center Services, but some cases are different. When I see the light off as we approach the locked room, I frown.
“Did you have an appointment?” It doesn’t matter if he does, she’s usually here and oftentimes not busy. But once in a while she’ll come in late, and I wouldn’t be surprised if today is one of those mornings.
“Yes.”
“Do you have her email?”
He nods.
“Well…” I’m not sure what I can do to help besides tell him to email her and just leave a note on her door about him coming over.
“It’s no big deal,” he says, pulling me away from my lingering thoughts. He shifts slightly and looks at me with distant eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to be free right now, would you?”
Warning bells go off in my mind, telling me to put distance between us. I’m not ready to forgive him yet. “I can’t help you with scheduling students. That’s protocol Ms. Fields has to take care of.”