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“You’ve starred in a number of my solo sessions lately too, freshman. You’re always very, very eager to learn.”
She laughed, her eyelashes dipping down. “Guess you should teach me some things then, huh? See if I can manage not to mess up the fantasy?”
Her gaze dropped at that, that old shyness of hers surfacing, but the words were like a drug being injected into his bloodstream.
“I know you won’t. You’re doing everything right,” he said softly. “Just being you.”
“You too.” She lifted her head, and he could feel her hands trembling in his, but her eyes were sparkling. “What’s next, Teach?”
He gave her a slow smile and reached for the door handle. “Just do as I say, and I promise I’ll take good care of you.”
* * *
O’Neal’s stomachwas doing somersaults as she followed Auden to his bedroom, but the sensation felt like anticipation more than fear. Auden had looked so concerned outside, so worried that he’d taken things too far already, that now, more than ever, she knew she’d made the right decision. With someone else, she’d have to worry she was being used or manipulated. She’d have to worry that she’d picked the wrong guy like her mom had and risk ending up hurt or assaulted or dead.
But not with Auden. He was her friend first before anything else. He wanted to make this good for her. He didn’t want to push her further than she wanted to go. And apparently, he didn’t want to freak her out with some of the things he liked. She was going to lose hours of sleep trying to figure out what those things could be. He’d admitted to an exhibitionist streak, but she got the sense it was more than that. Her sexual vocabulary wasn’t large enough yet to even brainstorm the possibilities but…she was intrigued. Before tonight, she would’ve never fathomed that Mr. Hometown Golden Boy had any real secrets. He always seemed like such a confident,what you see is what you getkind of guy.
They passed a closed door in the hallway. Auden caught her looking.
“Len’s room,” he said and then stopped at the next doorway. “And mine.”
She inhaled a deep breath as he guided her inside. The room was larger than any college student deserved but decorated simply. Pale wood floors, light gray walls, a dresser, a basic black bookcase filled with books and framed photos and what looked to be a few of Lennox’s drawings, a matching desk with a laptop, and a row of swimming medals hung on pegs on the wall above. But what drew her eye the most was the unmade king-sized bed with rumpled white sheets and a black-and-white pin-striped comforter.
“This is a nice room,” she said, taking it all in, the gravity of what was about to happen making it a little hard to take a full breath.
“Sorry,” Auden said, walking over to the bed and flipping up the sheets and comforter to smooth it. “I left in a hurry this morning.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your mom you don’t make your bed.”
He laughed and walked back over to her, taking her in his arms. “We’re not going to be telling my mom a lot of things, I think.”
She bit her lip.
He brushed the tip of his nose against hers. “Still with me, freshman?”
“Nerves are back,” she admitted. “But yes, still with you, Teach.”
He lifted his head and gave her a heated look. “I probably shouldn’t like you calling me that nickname so much, but…” He grabbed her hand and gently guided it between them. He pressed her hand over his crotch where the steel of his erection pressed against her palm. “But it totally does it for me.”
She sucked in a shallow breath, the feel of him even through his jeans sending an electric pulse through her. She tentatively cupped her hand, mapping him, marveling that she was doing this with him…withAuden.
He groaned softly. “It’s okay to use some pressure. You won’t hurt me.”
This was news to her, and she was eager for more information. She looked down between their bodies, dragging her teeth across her lip, a little spark of boldness flashing inside her. “Can you show me how to touch you…without the jeans?”
His gaze met hers, steady fire burning there. “Sit on the bed.”
The smooth command sent awareness rolling through her, but she found she wanted to do exactly as he said. She walked over to the edge of the bed and sat.
He took his time, slipping off his shoes and socks, balling up the latter and setting them aside. He watched her the whole time, like he was thoroughly enjoying making her wait. He put his hand on his waistband, and she held her breath. He walked slowly toward her. By the time he stopped in front of her and flicked open the button on his jeans, her heart was beating like a hummingbird’s wings. The outline of his erection filled up her vision.
He reached out and cupped her chin, tilting her head upward and making her shiver.
“Unzip me, O’Neal,” he said in that calm, commanding voice he had. “Take off my jeans.”
She held his eye contact, her breath speeding up, and then lifted a trembling hand. She watched her fingers tug his zipper down as if they didn’t belong to her. It wasn’t enough, though. She wanted to see him, feel him. She rallied her courage and slid her hands to his waistband, pushing his jeans down. When she got them to his ankles, he stepped out of them. She raised her head and took in the view of the snug pair of black boxer briefs, the sheer maleness of him pushing against the thin fabric. He was hard. Forher.She could barely wrap her head around that. She looked up again, catching him watching her with intense focus. He nodded, answering the question that must’ve been on her face.
With a slight tremor going through her, she lifted her hand and slipped it inside the fly of his boxers. The steely heat of his…cock—she forced herself to think the word—brushed her palm, and she let out a little gasp.
