The look he shoots me is incendiary. “Mmhmm. All yours.”
I swallow down the words riding the lust flowing through my body.Let’s go back to my roomis trying to claw its way out of my mouth. But I shouldn’t. My plan was to go to the library and text Cal from there, assuming we’d get together tonight. For dinner. Or after dinner. Not now.
“I have to study,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I have a test tomorrow and another paper due on Monday. I need to find sources.”
“Okay,” he says amiably, like he wasn’t just trying to melt my clothes off with his eyeballs. “I’ll help.”
I let out a laugh, bracing myself for the gloomy cold as we head out the door. “You’ll help?”
He throws me another grin, just as heated as the last one. “I can beveryhelpful.”
I’m not sure how he makes offering to help me find sources for a paper into a double entendre, but he absolutely does.
At a loss for how to respond, I make a noncommittal hum as I swallow more of the hot chocolate. Something about the gesture is unbearably sweet. Sweeter than the hot chocolate itself.
And more than anything, that feels dangerous.
* * *
Cal claims a table for us, surprising me by pulling out his own laptop and books, for all the world looking like he’s going to study as well.
He returns my surprised look with a bland expression. “What? You thought all I did was play football and stalk you to give you hot chocolate?” He gives a derisive snort. “I told you I’m pre-med. I have homework too, thank you very much.”
I hold up my hands in a gesture of surrender, fighting a grin. He doesn’t bother holding back his own, though, his gaze heavy as he watches me get out my own laptop and notebook so I can write down the call numbers of the books most likely to have information I need.
Eventually, though, I glance up to find him engrossed in his work, and I finally relax enough to concentrate on mine.
All he does is glance up at me as I come and go from our table, assembling a stack of books that I want to look through to see if they have enough useful information to be worth checking out, or if it’s easier to just snap pics of the important paragraphs to reference later and write down the bibliographic citation in case it actually makes it into my paper.
But the next time I get up, Cal stands too, making a big show of stretching. I give him a quizzical glance, but don’t wait to figure out what he’s up to. I have limited amounts of time and a lot to accomplish. I don’t need the distraction of Cal’s sweatshirt riding up and showing off the band of his boxer briefs, a strip of skin, and the treasure trail that I know leads to a delicious destination.
Nope nope nope. Definitely don’t need that distraction.
But Cal follows me, catches up, tangles his fingers in mine, and tugs me away from the shelf I was headed toward. “What are you doing?” I hiss at him as he pulls me off to the south side of the building, away from the windows and the stairs and the central traffic area, as far back and away as we can get, back to the farthest corner. He spins me in front of him, his mouth sealing over mine, and he presses me back into the corner. At my gasp, his tongue sweeps into my mouth, stealing any objection I may have tried to voice.
Because as much as I absolutelyshouldobject for all the reasons already stated, I can’t bring myself to. I want his tongue in my mouth, his body pressed to mine, his already hard dick digging into my belly as his hands grip my ass and hoist me up so we’re lined up better.
He drags his mouth away from mine to draw a line of searing kisses over my jaw and down my neck. “Fucking hell, Piper,” he whispers into my skin. “You’re such a fucking tease.”
I gasp, partly from his words, and partly from the nip of his teeth on my collarbone. He immediately soothes the sting with his hot tongue. “Am not,” I manage weakly.
He chuckles, the sound dark and almost ominous. “The fuck you aren’t. Wiggling this tight little ass in front of me as you go back and forth, back and forth, getting books, bending over and giving me the briefest glimpse of your tits down your shirt as you set the books down, your ass swaying away from me again a second later.” He kisses me hard and fast. “Fucking tease.”
His tongue fills my mouth again, and even though I only want to surrender to his kiss, I struggle against him and push him away, my brows pulled together. “I told you I needed sources for a paper,” I start to protest, but the words die on my lips as soon as I see his smirk.
“You did, yes. Doesn’t fucking matter. I’ve wanted you since you left my bed the other night. I couldn’t wait until after practice tonight to see you again, so I came to find you, and you’re making me watch you in the library. You’re the fucking worst, Piper.”
As he complains, it dawns on me that he’s enjoying this, the teasing, as he calls it, the challenge. The chase. Yes, he’s caught me already, but I’m still not making it easy on him. And it flashes through my brain that maybe I should, maybe I should just capitulate quickly, make it so I’m not a challenge, the chase is over, and he’s won. Then he’d get bored faster, and I could go back to my normal schedule, the distraction resolved.
But I can’t. Much as the sensible part of me screams at me to give in, take him to my room, have an afternoon quickie and study later, I just can’t.
This is too much fun.
“Oh?” I put all the coy innocence I can manage into my voice. “Is ithardfor you to watch me study?”
He rocks his hips, grinding his dick into me, making me gasp. “Yes, Piper. Yes, it’s fuckinghard.” He rocks his hips again, and the feeling that rockets through me is more than just arousal. It’s triumph. Elation that I reduce this big, cocky athlete—the guy who was, apparently, king of the campus before this year, the guy who can get any chick he wants—to this. To begging. To complaining that I’m a tease. To pulling me into dark corners of the library to make out and dry hump against the wall.
“What are you going to do about it?” he demands.
