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All my nerve endings light up again and I squirm on his lap. It turns out getting dicked all night long by a sex god hasn't dampened my libido at all. Nope. My pussy is raring to go again.
"Careful,tesoro, I will fuck you right here, right now." I believe him because his erection is digging into my still-sensitive butt.
My face flushes with heat. It's annoying how easily he makes me blush.
"But the driver is right here with us!" I point out.
"So? He's paid good money to look the other way."
"Oh my god, I need to go now before I miss another meeting and get a written warning." I'm five seconds away from impaling myself on his dick. Again.
"That's not going to happen,tesoro."
"Oh? Have you met my Art History professor? He's a complete asshole."
He smirks. "Our family sponsors several scholarship funds at the college, so we have influence. If this professor gives you any trouble, tell me and I'll speak to Provost Sanchez."
My jaw drops. He's fucking serious. I have no words.
"Right, OK, so now I'm going. Even if you scare the shit out of my professor, I still have an essay to finish and a life drawing class starting in an hour."
His expression darkens. "I hope the model isn't male, Cara."
"And if it is a man?" I ask innocently.
"Then I'll have to come and sit in on the class."
The thought of Christiano sitting in on my life drawing class is both amusing and terrifying. Hopefully, he's joking, but somehow, I doubt it.
"I gotta go or I'll be late again."
He gives me one last lingering kiss, which makes me question why I'm not playing hooky. Surely one day off wouldn't hurt? Then I picture Professor Fuckhead's face and decide it's not worth the ensuing drama. Christiano watches me walk toward the main entrance of the Fine Art building before the car pulls away.
I jog along quickly, anxious about this meeting. While Christiano has assured me I'm not going to get kicked off my course for missing one meeting, I don't want to annoy the professor any more than I already have.
As I walk past the fountain in front of the entrance, I notice a guy leaning against one of the trees on the periphery. He's casually dressed in a black tee and jeans and is a bit older than most of the students. I'm not sure what it is about him but the way he's staring at me gives me the creeps. Most of the students in this area are studying art. This guy is most definitely not an art student; he's not scruffy enough. He also looks like the guy hanging around outside my apartment earlier.
He could be waiting for someone, I suppose. But it doesn't explain why he's staring so intently at me. I walk past him and he pulls a phone from his pocket. Our eyes meet for a second and a cold shiver runs down my spine. If this guy is hoping to hit on me, he's in for a rude awakening because I'm 100% not interested.
"Hey! Cara!" My attention is pulled in the opposite direction when one of the girls in my art history class comes running toward me. "Have you finished your essay?" she asks when she reaches me.
"Not quite, I need to fact-check a couple of things and write the conclusion."
"Same. I'm going to hit the library for an hour or so then send it. Wanna join me?"
I explain about the meeting with Professor Fuckhead and she offers her condolences. We agree to meet up after I'm done being roasted by him. By the time she walks away and I turn around, the creepy guy has disappeared. I start to pull my phone from my bag so I can message Christiano, but then decide I'm being paranoid. Just because I'm dating - is that what we're doing? - a member of the Faugno family, it doesn't mean there's a target on my back. Christ, we've literally spent one night together. Thalia's been with Salvo for ages and now they're married. Not once in all that time has anyone attacked her.
If anyone was in danger, it would be her, not me.
With a shake of my head, I head into the building in the direction of the professor's office.
???
By the time my life drawing class is over, I'm feeling very jaded. I love life drawing. There are no expectations from theclass. Our tutor just lets us draw away, or paint, if we want, and other than a bit of helpful guidance here and there, she mostly leaves us alone. Today's drawing wasn't my best, I'll be the first to admit. The poses were all short so I did quick charcoal sketches in a bid to capture the form of the model.
I'm not pleased with the results, but art is like that sometimes: some days everything flows and others, it sucks ass. And not in a good way. The class finished five minutes early because the tutor had a meeting, so unless Christiano has arrived early, I'll be stood waiting outside. But that's OK. I picked up a coffee to-go from the canteen and I have some notes to read.
I take a seat on a bench near the access road and check my phone. There's a message from Christiano telling me he's running a bit late but he's on his way. I can't help but smile at the stupid emojis he adds to the bottom of the message.
