“Shall we come together, sweet Summer? Would that make your pussy happy?”
She was breathing heavily. The wildness in her eyes spoke to his soul. He felt mighty pleased with himself when a vise gripped his cock and squeezed. The violent contraction forced a feral grunt from his throat.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he ground out a split second before unleashing a furious pounding.
Her climax hit first. He gloried in it, groaning when she cried his name and then stroked to a cataclysmic finish. There was nothing left after he emptied inside her. Nothing.
The resource room at the city college was surprisingly packed despite the early hour and the fact that most schools were still on winter break. Even though she didn’t know many of the people by name, she was certain that, like her, most were adult students who had jobs, families, and other responsibilities that complicated pursuing a degree.
She restacked her stuff to keep everything from cascading into the workspace of the person next to her and thought about how in her next life maybe she’d get a chance to do college in one four-year, full-time bump instead of piecing together the requirements for her degree over a longer period.
The struggle was real but worth it because, at the end of the day, she’d have the degree, knowledge, and experience necessary to land her dream job working in the human resources department of a large business. Nowadays, not everyone liked or could manage people, but that wasn’t her. Even the idiots who pissed her off were important in Summer’s eyes. Everyone had value if you took the time to see it.
The unforgiving wood chair under her butt made moving problematic and offered a sore reminder of her nocturnal activities. So did crossing her legs. And walking. She remembered Arnie’s pleased smirk when she commented how she understood what it meant to be left hobbling by a thorough pounding.
“You’ll remember me inside you every time you move.”
It turned out, he wasn’t exaggerating because she couldn’t think of anything else.
“Concentrate,” she muttered under her breath. The subject of her research was important. If she survived the next semester with flying colors, she’d have one final term to go. A term with a ninety-minute, one-way commute. She was determined to finish with a degree from a big university, and to do that, she’d have to take drastic steps.
Not for the first time, she contemplated moving to LA. She loved the Santa Barbara vibe, but her future had to be about more than beach life and waitressing. The sprawling City of Angels had everything she needed including, and most importantly, easy access to UCLA.
She forgot about her research and did some mental gymnastics. She still had a nice chunk of her inheritance earmarked for post-college life. Summer took being responsible with her dad’s modest estate quite seriously. The money wasn’t for cruises or shoes. If she played her cards right, she’d have a degree, the resources to land a great job, plus enough left to invest in a house.
A firebolt launched from the past pierced her heart with a shard of red-hot animosity for her runaway mother. Turning her back on the boring life of a wife and mother made Marie Warren a stone-cold bitch. Summer yearned for everything her mother despised. A home, a family, a garden, a dog, and a fulfilling everyday career sounded like heaven to her. Money, status, or internet clicks meant nothing to Summer.
Her pen tapped on the wood surface. She didn’t realize she was doing it till the guy at the end of the table shot her a dirty look.
What about Arnie? Did her hunky lover fit into the future she envisioned? A chorus of voices echoed through her mind shouting that yes, of course, he fit. He was her destiny. Having a detached, unenthused mother was also her destiny, so there was always that.
She was going to get nothing done if she didn’t concentrate, but she couldn’t stop wondering what Arnie was doing right this minute. He told her his morning was jam-packed with business. According to him, lunch was an exercise in self-control due to his overwhelming desire to throat punch some of the people he was forced to make nice with.
Stifling a giggle snort, she imagined his frosty blue stare and found the idea of stern Arnie quite compelling. His affable demeanor was a smokescreen. The man she invited into