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Except for the distant, easily ignored pang of fear that I was missing something important that was going on with Tristan, I was happy. For once. He made me feel normal. He made me feel cool, as ridiculous as that concept seemed. I was so far from cool that it hurt, but when I was with Tristan, he was the king and I was the queen. It was fun getting dragged into his world, and I wondered if I’d ever grow too tired of the thrill.
I knew I couldn’t imagine growing tired of this.
His hand was on my cheek and he was only inches from me, filling me with the sweet, subtle scent of his cologne. “The secret to a perfect essay is a satisfied libido. Your sexual frustration is practically dripping from every page of that essay.”
“It’s one page,” I whispered.
“Front and back, though. It’s dripping from both sides.”
I smiled. “You’re trying so hard. It’s cute.”
He pressed his body closer until I felt the warm hardness of his erection against my belly. “Can you blame me?” He cupped my cheeks. “You’re all I think about, Wheels.” He planted a kiss on me that was tender and sweet.
Something about the kiss and his words felt like it clashed, but I pushed that to the back of my mind, too. I wanted this to work. I needed it to. Tristan was the only thing helping me to keep my nerve when it came to hiding the truth from my mom. I knew if he was out of my life, I’d be right back where I started, swallowing any pill she brought me.
But Tristan made me want to be stronger than that. Independent. In his own way, he’d been teaching me how.
“I think that’s an example of hyperbole,” I said. “If I was all you thought about, you’d become a pretty bad quarterback. And student. And general human being.”
“If you think sassing me is going to get you out of this, you’re wrong. I’ve been waiting all day for you.”
“What is it you think we’re going to do in the middle of the library?”
“Mrs. Beverly naps at her desk every afternoon around this time. She never restocks the shelves. We’re practically alone.”
“Except we’re not,” I said.
“All I want is a blow job.”
I sputtered. “No way.”
Tristan put his hand on my shoulder, urging me downward. “You want that ‘A+’ or not?”
“I don’t want to give you a blowjob at school in front of a window and while the librarian could walk back here at any moment.”
“Got it. So the only problem is location.”
He turned me so my back was to the window, then pushed me down to my knees. “Now you’re not in front of the window, and if we hear Mrs. Beverly coming, we’re looking for a book for class. Problems solved.”
Before I could protest, he had pulled his fly down and pulled himself free.
I tried to look away but couldn’t quite manage. The idea of being caught was oddly sexy, even if I didn’t quite understand why. I looked up at Tristan, who was watching me with heavy eyes. I could see how badly he wanted it and felt myself grow a little bolder.
There were way more reasons to tell him “no” than there were to give in, not least of which was the fact that I had no idea what I was doing. I guessed I could figure out the basics, but there was also a risk of overlooking some major component of a good blow job.
Tristan didn’t seem to care, he put his hand on the back of my head, urging my mouth closer to his length.
“Tristan,” I said quietly.
“What?”
I waited, biting back the words that wanted to come. Not now. Maybe later. What about the fact that you’ve been drinking more? What about your dad selling the house? There were dozens of questions, but I’d spent my whole life letting uncertainty chain me down. It felt good to embrace the unknown with Tristan.
“If I don’t get an ‘A+’ on my paper, I’m going to hold it personally against you.”
I put my hand around the base of his cock, unable to even wrap my fingers completely around it. I swallowed, then tentatively eased him inside my mouth. It was warm and surprisingly soft against my tongue. When I stole a glance upward and saw how his head was thrown back with his eyes squeezed shut and his lips parted, a buzzing excitement passed over me.
I moved my head back and forth, trying to create a little bit of a seal with my lips by applying some suction. He tensed when I did that, his grip on my hair tightening.
I kept going, instinctively pumping my hand with the motion of my lips, which earned a low groan of satisfaction.
I thought I heard a shuffling noise, so I stopped for a second to listen with his cock still inside my mouth. I felt it thumping faintly with his heartbeat against my cheek, tongue, and lips. After a few seconds, Tristan grabbed a fistful of my hair and started moving my head for me, practically fucking my face.
