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Good Boy: Where’s Joe?
I smirk at Adrian’s nickname in my phone. Leo must’ve changed it.
Love Machine: He better be standing right in front of her.
Fucking Leo. I scoot back in my seat, the fabric of my plaid skirt brushing my naked body. I was too caught up in my own worries that I hadn’t really paid much attention until I was already halfway onto campus. I look like Leo’s dirty fantasy in what could pass as a sexy school uniform. Now that I think about him...fuck me. I’m horny.
But worse, I’m going into heat.
Me: He’s in the middle of a lesson, but I want to bail. I’m exhausted. Achy.
Good Boy: I can be there in forty-five.
Me: I’m so fucking horny.
Love Machine: Shit. I’ll be there in thirty.
A book smacks on the floor, startling me. I whip my attention to the front of the room. Bending down, Jonah quickly picks up his paperback. My heart races, my body tingling. His movement wafts his scent in my direction.
He shakes his head and moves something on the podium. Not something. His phone.
Lit Dick: Scarlett, can you hang in for a bit longer? I’ll excuse everyone early.
Me: I’m not sure. I ache. I think I’m soaking the chair. I’m so horny.
Love Machine: Goddamn. You better take care of her, Joe.
Jonah clears his throat, leaning his elbows on the podium. “Sorry about that. Family matters. Where was I at?”
I clutch my book, and though I follow along, my phone rests between the pages. “One-oh-seven. Paragraph five, Professor Hart,” I murmur, my voice soft.
Me: He’s too busy reading. It’s torture. I don’t think I can stay much longer.
Good Boy: Go to Joe’s office if you need to.
Clayman: I’ll excuse my next class. Sounds like you need us all, Lettie. Ezra, can you swing by early?
PapaMia: Anything for my amore.
Me: Bend me over?
“Thank you, Ms. Carlisle,” Jonah says, his voice snapping my attention away from the phone.
I smirk and nod my head instead of responding with my voice.
Me: Since Jonah won’t.
Love Machine: Do what I told you, dirty girl. You’ll get out of there faster than he blows his load from his self-proclaimed abstinence until the end of the term.
Jonah flips through the pages of Blanca’s Barcelona, another novel not on the syllabus but one he claims to use as an example of a modern allegory tale for this week’s unit. His muscles bulge against his suit, his body flexing. I don’t know how he manages to remain expressionless as his phone buzzes, but I can’t help my sudden need to get his attention.
“Steam filled the shower, the fragrance of their passion mingling with the scent of the lavender candles.” His tongue glides over his bottom lip as he peers up from the book to glance at me. “Blanca laced her fingers through Jorge’s wet, midnight hair. Burying his face into her body, as if the sweet nectar of life flowed from her...”
I squirm in my seat, his deep voice husky and filled with the same passion the characters feel in the moment. I can’t concentrate another second on his reading. The pressure of squeezing my legs together does nothing for the ache growing in my middle.
So I do the only thing I can think of. I take Leo’s advice. I uncross my legs, slowly and quietly, grabbing Jonah’s full attention as I flash him my pussy.
Jonah clears his throat and pulls at his collar. He clutches the book hard enough to crack the spine. But he remains composed. Still collected and expressionless.
