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She was still for a long moment and then suddenly pushed at my chest. I was a little taken aback by my threat. Was I into the idea of spanking Eve’s round, thick ass? Maybe. I was discovering all kinds of things about myself lately.
“Let me go, or I’ll scream until people run up here.” Her voice was strong and demanding. She wasn’t intimidated.
Good. I wanted her to have plenty of fight left.
“Feel free. You won’t be doing my reputation any damage, but you might want to consider yours. There are just such double standards when it comes to hot tub skinny-dipping with hockey players only days into the school year, aren’t there? It’s totally unfair. Your friend Isabelle should write an op-ed about it for theHerald.”
“I really fucking hate you, Anderson, you know that?”
“The feeling is entirely mutual.” I turned around, grabbed a beer, and settled back to enjoy the view of Eve making her way out of the water as quickly as she could.
Now, that was an ass for the books. I pictured it with a red handprint seared across it.Myhandprint. That would be a sight to see.
Absolutely perfect, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it. She was getting more and more used to my touch, and I was getting more and more addicted to touching her.
I’d never thought I’d welcome the touch of anyone. I’d started to think that that element of my life was over for me. I’d channel my energy into hockey to blunt the edges of my needs and handle the rest in the shower.
Eve had changed that dull-looking future. I could stand her touch. Iwantedher touch.
A first for me.
It seemed I’d found my one, true exception.
Eve
I slept fitfullyand dreamed of strong hands holding me down and pushing inside me. In those dreams, that invisible dark figure took me ruthlessly, without a word, and fucked me until I screamed. I woke up sweating and tousled, with the dawning certainty that I’d just gotten off in my dreams, fantasizing about the asshole I’d been trying to forget all summer.
Said asshole was gone when I woke up and headed to class. A small mercy.
I was still horrified over what had nearly happened between us the night before in the hot tub. Of course, I’d known it was him kissing me immediately. It was the same, drugging kisses that had haunted me all summer, and I’d know his touch even in my sleep.
Goading him had seemed like a fun little idea, until he’d turned it around on me. I shivered as I hurried into class, the memory of humping his hard-on in the hot tub flooding me with shame. How could I hate him so much yet get so turned on by his touch? There was something wrong with me. Going so long withouthaving sex had crossed the wires in my brain, and now I was short-circuiting.
My first class this morning was Intro to Economics. I was looking forward to it. Numbers had always made sense to me, and money had always been my obsession, so it suited me perfectly. Well, finding a way to make money had been my obsession, and today, I was taking a step closer to that goal.
I sat near the front, like the overeager student I was. I was really early, and there were only a few other students in class. I took out my shiny new notepad and pen as I waited for the class to fill up.
The professor entered the room and headed to the front. Well, I thought it was the professor. He was more handsome than I’d expected, despite wearing ironed jeans and a tweed jacket with elbow patches. The outfit alone made it safe to assume he was the professor. He messed around at the lectern, setting up his notes and checking his slides. Then he glanced up and around the room. I was one of the only students so far. I was also the only one sitting very close to the front.
He approached and gave me a smile. There was something vaguely familiar about it. I was trying to place it when he spoke.
“I feel like we’ve met before. Do you work at the diner over on Elm…?” He was giving me the same expression, like he was trying to place me.
His face clicked into place in my mind. “Yes! The Chickadee Diner. You’re a regular, right?”
“What can I say, that place gets the greasy fishiness of a proper Maine tuna melt just right.” He smiled again, and it was pleasant.
I smiled back. It felt rude not to. “The tuna melt is one of their big sellers.”
“I’m sure,” he said. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you there sometime.”
“Absolutely, I’ll tell the cook to make the tuna melt extra greasy,” I joked lamely.
Luckily, the professor winced and played along. “Please, please don’t. I’m Professor Jefferies, by the way. Matt Jefferies. And you’re Eve, right? If I remember your name tag right.”
If it was a little weird that he remembered my name tag, I dismissed it. Teachers were good with names.
“Yes, Eve Martino. Nice to meet you, Professor Jefferies…officially, I mean.”
