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“I know,” he says, kissing the side of my neck with such enthusiasm my knees get weak. “Jesus, Cooper.”
Drew rocks his hips into mine, lining up our erections to rub off on each other.
“Fuck.”
“Later,” he gasps, biting down on my shoulder through my shirt. I slide my hands over his hips, gripping the insane bubble of his ass hard enough to have his head jerking up to look at me. Drew grabs my wrists and pins them to the wall beside my head. The move runs through me like a shock, stiffening my spine. Among other things.
“You like that,” he says, his eyes taking in every detail.
It’s too much. All of it. Whatever he sees when he looks at me, it’s too much.
“No,” I say, denying him despite all evidence to the contrary.
Tension creeps into his features, but before he can call me out for lying—again—the headset we’ve somehow knocked to the floor gives another burst of static. Drew’s hands come off my body immediately, like he’s been caught doing something wrong. It infuriates me all over again.
“Get the hell off me,” I say, bracing my weight against the wall and shoving him hard, mortified by how breathy my voice sounds. Fucker barely sways but he takes a calm step back.
Drew picks up his headset, setting himself to rights. I try not to watch him adjusting the thick mound behind his fly, and fail.
That’s twice today Drew Hicks got hard for me. I want to smack myself for how deeply that thrills me. He’s not mine to be thrilling over, not at all.
“And stay away from me,” I add, a little too late to make it convincing, I guess, given Drew’s only response is to glance down at my erection as he raises one eloquent brow. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to see to? What would Bailey say if she could see you right now?”
Unbelievably, Drew laughs.
“She’d probably ask to film us. Or at least watch,” he says, heat flashing in his eyes. Noticing my glare, he rolls his eyes. Nobody takes me all that seriously, but it rankles coming from him.
“Your girlfriend—”
“Is not Bailey,” he says, fiddling with the headset and receiver again. “And I’m pretty sure you know that, considering you left with her yesterday.”
I didn’t know it when we left together last night, but I don’t mention that part. My intentions at the time were pure. More or less. And since Bailey’s only posing as his girlfriend, it doesn’t matter anyway.
“Doesn’t explain why you’re kissing me in a closet,” I say, still glaring.
“Is every damn thing suspicious to you?” Drew asks, finally looking right at me.
“I’ll leave aside the very obvious jokes about being stuck in a closet with you. At the risk of sounding like a teenager, you started it,” I say. God, he’s annoying. “And by the way, you’re welcome, asshole,” I add.
“I didn’t ask you to lie,” says Drew, his temper coming back. “Neither did Bailey, I bet. Speaking of which,” he says, his eyes shrewd. “She must have mentioned I’m bi. Why else would you assume it’s okay to kiss me?”
I’m going to kill him.
“Maybe because you’ve been eye-fucking me since I signed up for your class last summer.” The jab lands. Drew clenches his teeth hard enough I can see it, even in the eerie light. Good.
“Bullshit.”
“Really?” I’m back in his face before I think twice, my hand coming up to cup his still-hard cock, squeezing him through his jeans. His nostrils flare, the rest of Drew’s body going taut and still.
“Does it ever occur to you to let somebody else have the last word?” he asks, his voice low and thick.
“Never.” Having Drew Hicks at my mercy is a heady feeling, addictive in the ways all bad things are. So I’m grateful when static pops through the speakers on his headset and I hear our names being called up to the stage.
I’m grateful. Really.
Really.
Drew takes a deep breath. He grips my wrist, removing my hand from his cock.
