“Good, because the point of me going to China with you is to bewith you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I hope your parents’ place has some thick walls.”
Jesus.I stick a hand up. “Dude, it doesn’t matter. There’s no way I’m gonna chance it. No sex unless my parents are gone.”
The bastard sticks his fingers into my waistband, plunging his whole hand down and caressing my dick as soon as I snicker. “Are you sure?” He squeezes me. “I promise I’ll be quiet.”
Out of instinct, I grab his bicep to move his arm away, and all that does is give me a different reminder of why this guy has such an effect on me. Gritting through my surging arousal, I push those offending, devious fingers away from my nether regions and cover myself with a pillow, glaring at his smirking face that, yeah, is way too adorable for me to resist.
“My parents both work, so we’ll have lots of chances.” I think for a second. “And my dad snores like an air raid siren.”
Nick reaches over to his desk and grabs his glasses, slipping them on and?—
Wait, since when does he wear glasses?
And why the hell does he look fucking delectable in them? The frames are dark and thick, sitting low on the bridge of his nose and framing his cheekbones in a way I appreciate like nothing else.
I’m torn between yanking the glasses off so I can maul him without anything getting in the way, and politely requesting Nick to superglue the damn things to his face.
“Hmm, so that means we can schedule copulatory involvement at the hours of…” He pretends to scribble in one of my notebooks. “Eight a.m. to six p.m.?”
“Uh-huh.”
His eyebrows furrow behind the frames. “Are you listening?”
“No. You're wearing glasses.”
He freezes for a second before barking out a laugh. His eyes usually shrink a little when he smiles, but the lenses are like magnifying glasses for my benefit, and that lets me see so much more.
Nick is already mesmerizing, but holy hell, now this is something else.
“Oh? Does my tutor have a thing for slutty nerds?” He squeezes my bulge again. “I thought that was supposed to be my job.”
“Yeah, well, I'm not your tutor anymore, so I'm allowed to be turned on by your glasses.”
“They’re aturn-on?Jesus.” Nick takes that as a cue to climb on top of me, straddling my waist and giving me a view which all but wrecks what’s left of my willpower. “Good to know. Now I can get revenge for when you tempt me with those juicy basketball calves.”
He trails his fingers behind him across said calves, and I shove him off.
“Yougave me these shorts.” Rolling my eyes, I hike said shorts up and lift my legs, depositing them into his waiting lap. “Take your glasses off, and then you can't see them.”
For effect, and because I can't help myself, I nudge Nick's hard dick and shoot him a smirk.
“Alright, I give up.” He gets on his knees and grabs my legs, pulling me toward him. “Now teach me the word for ‘blowjob.’”
I don’t think he seriously wants to know—him yanking my shorts off isn’t the strongest indicator of any willingness to learn.
Not that I’m objecting. When the two of us agreed to keep things physical, I didn’t envision doing so little work to uphold our pact. Nick does a ton of the lifting, and if he keeps this up, the pesky, latent warmth I’m harboring for him won’t surface.
It’ll only get risky if he starts doing cute shit, like serious coupley-cute shit. I’m satisfied with matching his horny energy, but if it shifts into something different, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.
And that isn’t something I want to think about less than a week before I take him home with me.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NICK
Jet lag is a bitch. Holyshit.
I thought the twenty-hour trip over here would have been worse, but no. Waking up at three in the morning after too few hours of interrupted sleep takes the damn cake. Before today, I never knew I could feel tiredandwide awake at the same time.
