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Silence passes between us for a few seconds, before he sits down on Professor Sampson's empty chair. "Okay. I have a few minutes, if you have time. But please, don't tell him I helped you. He will get shitty with me and I need him to sign off on some things in a few weeks."
"Deal," I say, giving him a sweet smile. "I really appreciate it."
"Get out your textbook," he says, grabbing a notepad from his bag.
I drag over a chair, listening to him talk about the book, marking pages which will help and writing down tips on how to address the questions. I pretend I'm interested and engaged, nodding excitedly and acting like the model student. It actually will be really useful, and he legit probably just saved me a heap of drama. I'm actually starting to feel bad for him being dragged into this mess.
"Does all that make sense?" he asks, closing the book.
I bite my lip, giving him a small nod. "Yeah. That was super helpful. Thank you. I really wish I could repay you for your time."
"Don't worry about it," he says, packing up. "Just get it in before the three days are up. There's not long until break so just focus on getting there."
He goes to stand but I stop him, putting my hand on his thigh. He freezes, looking at me. "What are you doing?"
"Just trying to think of ways to say thank you," I murmur, doing my best to stop myself from coming on too strongly.
Kev looks at my hand perched on his leg. "I don't think that's an appropriate way."
"No, it's not," I agree, truthfully.
Clearing his throat, he looks at the doorway. "I need to get going. But if you have any questions, you can email me through the student system."
Sensing his hesitation, I casually slide my hand up further, stopping just short of his dick. "Are you sure I can't help you in return?"
"No," he says quickly, but I hear it – the hesitation, the confusion in his voice.
I press my fingers down on his thigh, applying pressure. "Okay, if you're sure," I mutter in disappointment, slowly removing my hand. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not an abuser. I won't force people into things they don't want to do, even if it means losing Asher's stupid dare. I will redeem myself next time.
Kev grabs my hand. "Wait," he says, surprising me.
"Wait?" I repeat, confused. I can see the conflict all over his face. He would be shit at poker.
He bites his lip, looking away. "I don't want you to stop."
My eyebrows shoot up, shocked at his revelation. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah… just, don't tell anyone. And I mean,anyone.Fuck, what am I doing?"
I feel bad for him. He's lost, caught up in the turmoil that I know and live by. Trying to make sense of the messed up world, desperate to feel something. We all want to feel alive before we die. And the ways we can live change all the time, surprising us as we fight battle after battle.
"Okay," I mutter, slipping off my seat onto my knees. He throws a panicked look at the door, and I feel his fear. I don't want to get caught either. Asher is fucked up and right now, I hate him for putting me in this position. I could have said no, but I need this. I need to be free. I can't keep living a life here, being this unhappy.
Sighing, I give his knees a little push. "Scoot back, let me move under the desk."
Kev wastes no time doing so, keen to hide me to help eliminate the threat of being caught. When I move under, I'm left with little room, my body hunched over as I sit back on my legs.
I put my hands on his knees, sliding my hands up towards his hips. He's hard already, the anticipation and thrill giving us both an adrenaline rush. My fingers swiftly open his trousers, pulling them down just enough to free his dick.
Jesus, who's horse is that?
You know what they say about lanky, white guys…
"Are you sure?" I ask again.
He hums his approval, his dick bouncing as his hands grip the edge of the desk above my head.
Okay, then. Here goes nothing.
