“Okay,” I say, switching to business mode, “what’s going to help you feel better about this test? Do you need a tutor or what?”
“No.” She turns back to her laptop with a furrowed brow. “I can do this. It’s just . . . my focus is all over the place. I’m so freaked out by the idea of repeating the past. My anxiety keeps getting in the way until I can’t even see straight.”
Nowthis,I can handle.
“Well then number one, you need to lay off the caffeine.” I close her laptop and slide her books into her bag.
Red scowls. “Bite me.”
“And number two.” I pull her to her feet.
“I said no touching,” she says breathlessly, and I can tell she is getting worked up again.
I ignore her and lead her through the stacks. “I can help you with the anxiety.”
Reaching the private study rooms in the back, I find one that’s empty and push her inside, shutting the door behind us.
I don’t turn on the lights, but light filters in through the thin strip of window along the door.
“What are you doing?” Red asks.
I set her bag down and hoist her up by her hips, setting her on the edge of a long table.
“Helping you relax.”
Before Red can respond, I step between her legs, cup her jaw, and capture her lips in a kiss. Despite her ire at being directed in here, she immediately opens her mouth. Her tongue dances with mine. She sighs.
It’s not the violent frenzy like before. The kiss is deep and searching. With one hand, I reach up and pull out the soft scrunchie holding up the mass of hair. It falls around her, and my pants get tighter.
The heat between her legs penetrates my jeans as she rubs on my fast-growing hardness.
“This isn’t going to help,” she murmurs between kisses.
“Trust me,” I say.
“Never,” she instantly shoots back.
My lips curve against hers as I tug at the hair at the base of her skull and deepen the kiss. A low guttural moan escapes her throat. It may be the sexiest noise I’ve ever heard. No, the sounds of her falling apart in orgasm have that honor.
If I’m being honest, the slight rasp in her voice when she says fucking anything feels like velvet to my ears. She could recite boring financial terms and I'd be panting for her in minutes.
Red's grinding grows more desperate as we rub through our clothes. I know what she needs. She whimpers when I step away.
“Take off your leggings,” I instruct.
In the low lighting, I see her shoot a nervous glance to the window and door. There’s no lock on the door, and I know she’s thinking anyone can see or walk in at any moment. But I don’t want her thinking.
“Do you want to pass your tests or what?” I ask, deliberately pressing the hot button on what she wants.
While she does what I ask, I grab a couple of the armed chairs and set them on either side of her at the table.
She only partially listened, leaving her panties on, and her nerves are palpable.
“Dammit Red,” I growl. “I told you to stop licking those luscious faefucking lips.”
I resume my place back between her legs and give her a punishing kiss. While torturing, and teasing her lips with nibbles and licks, I direct her legs so her feet are on either chair. The arms of the chairs keep her legs stretched apart, so she’s bared to me.
When I let her up for air, she’s gasping. I run a finger up and down the soft cleft of her lower lips through her panties. A needy moan slips from her. She shed her rock band sweater, leaving her in a thin tank top. She skipped the bra and the pert points of her piercings stick out.
