Page 54 of Brat Baby (Sugar Life #1, #3)
Emery
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
I skim my fingers over my neck, the phantom sensation of his hand strangling me still there as I lie on my side with Xavier wrapped around me, one of his hands cupping my breast and his thigh shoved between my own.
I’m still fucking tingling from that orgasm.
What the hell just happened?
Did nearly killing me actually make him come?
Is that a thing?
And did I like it?
Because…I kind of think I did. But maybe that’s the post-orgasm glow talking? I’ll have to think about it later when I can’t feel his semi-hard cock between my ass cheeks and my pussy isn’t begging to be filled again.
Fuck.
A noise from beyond my door has me bolting upright. Shit. Oakley is awake.
Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. I look at him over my shoulder. “Want to stay in here, and I’ll go make you some tea? You know, with the bags you left in the kitchen when you broke in last week?”
Xavier tucks a hand behind his head and uses his other hand to run his fingers up and down my spine, eliciting a shiver from me. “I didn’t break in.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“I have a security pass.”
“And where did you get that, exactly? Because only three people should have access to this dorm—Oakley, the RA, and me.”
“Copied yours.”
My mouth drops open, and I plan to say something, but honestly, I’m not even surprised. So I change tactics, because what’s the point in arguing with him? “Tea? Yay or nay?”
“Yay,” he replies, hazel eyes twinkling and that fucking boyish smirk appearing. And, crap, is that a motherfucking dimple?
Goddamn it.
With a huff, I get out of bed and drag on whatever clothes I can find, which oh, look at that, it’s the pjs he removed from my body when he woke me up before fucking me last night.
My pussy twinges with discomfort as I pull the shorts up, but there is still so much heat in the area. And I already know that, after this morning’s railing, sitting down in my classes today is going to be uncomfortable.
I slip out of the room, trying to keep the door as closed as possible and head over to the kitchen. Oakley is already there, hair piled high in what I’m coming to think of as her signature lopsided scrunchie bun and with a hot cup of something clasped in both hands just below her face.
Her face flushes pink when she sees me, and she ducks her head, avoiding eye contact. “Ah, good morning. You—I, ah. Yes.”
I side-eye her as I fill the brand-new electric kettle with water and put it back on its little stand thingy to boil. “Good morning. You okay?”
“Yep,” she squeaks and steps to the side.
Somehow, her face gets even redder. “I, ah, I may have… heard, ah, you. This morning.” She quickly holds up a hand between us, in a gesture that screams I’m innocent .
“And that’s totally cool. What a girl does, alone, in the privacy of her own room is totally her business. But, yeah, it was a bit loud.”
Rolling my lips into my mouth as she rambles on is the only thing stopping me from bursting out with laughter. Which would be totally in appropriate and shit, because, honestly, I’d be a little freaked out if I heard her getting freaky on her own in her room.
Slowly, I reach for two mugs, and as I place them down on the counter, I turn to face her. “First, I’m sorry you had to hear that, I’ll try to keep it down in the future. But also, I wasn’t alone.”
Her mouth falls open and her eyes dart in the direction of my bedroom like she can see through the wall. “You brought someone home? But what about your plan to get your daddies back?”
I give her a “are you kidding me” look, mixed with a little “Oakley, don’t be so na?ve” as I open the tea bag box and pull out two.
It takes her a second, but then…
“Oh, ohhhhhh. It’s one of them?” she whisper-squeaks, turning to face me squarely. “Ems, are you serious right now? You fucked a professor in your dorm room?”
“And in one of their offices yesterday,” I add helpfully, which only increases her shock.
“Emery!”
I roll my eyes at her. “What, exactly, did you think my plan was? It’s not like I know where any of them live. My only option is to attack them while they’re on campus.”
“You can’t fuck faculty on campus!”
“Well, I did, and nothing bad has happened. There was no earth-shattering kaboom.”
“Yet!”
I concede that point and nod at her. “Yet. But also, that isn’t going to happen. I just need to convince Derek now. Then we can go back to planned dates at the apartment. No more on-campus fucking.”
The kettle makes its whistling noise, and I quickly pick it up and pour the boiling hot water into the mugs, hoping I’m doing this right. The container says to steep the bags for three to five minutes.
Crap, I left my phone in my room. Oh well, I’ll guestimate it.
Oakley’s ears are still pink when I turn back to face her, but she takes a sip of her drink and eyes me over the rim. The stare lasts an uncomfortably long time. It’s like she is examining me or something.
Just as I can’t handle it anymore, she lowers the drink and props her hip against the counter. “Have you come up with an idea to at least talk to Derek?”
I let out a noisy puff of air. “I thought I had. I was going to join the students that always want to talk to him at the end of class yesterday, but the bastard didn’t even show up. Sent his TA to teach for him. He’s avoiding me.”
And, really, I can’t blame him too much after Monday.
“Do you know anything else about his routine?”
“Not really,” I reply as I pick up one of the tags and kind of dunk the bag up and down in the hot water.
That’s what you’re supposed to do, right?
“I’ve also gone to Grinder almost every morning at about the same time we saw them there, but literally none of them have ever been there. It’s frustrating.”
There is a click from the direction of my bedroom, and both of our heads snap in that direction as a shirtless Xavier walks out.
Fuck.
My focus darts to Oakley, whose mouth is hanging completely open as she watches Xavier approach, press a kiss to my hair, then take one of the mugs before retreating to our tiny two-person table, pulling out his phone, and scrolling.
I’m pretty sure I’m watching her have an actual out-of-body experience.
She points a finger in his direction, and it’s wobbly, before turning toward me, her face a little pale. “That’s Professor Knight.”
I shoot Xavier an amused smile, and I see his lips twitch, even though he is studiously studying his phone. “Yep.”
“In our dorm.”
“Yep, again.”
“He can’t be here.”
“I know.”
“Well, tell him to leave.”
“Look, I could totally do that, but it doesn’t mean he will. He’s been sneaking in here every night practically the entire time, and this is the first time you’re seeing him.”
Her mouth opens and closes like a fish for several moments before it’s like a light comes on and she straightens. “Oh my god! The groceries! And that time your room got cleaned up while you were sleeping. And when our TV was suddenly larger. That was all him?”
I shrug, not acknowledging how weird it is that we are talking about him and he isn’t even four feet away. “I haven’t asked.”
Oakley furiously blinks, almost like her brain is doing a restart or something. “I—but, how—actually, I don’t want to know.”
“Probably a good idea,” I reply before taking a sip of my tea.
The bitter flavor floods my mouth and blergh . I have to work to swallow it instead of spitting it in the sink. Sugar. Definitely needs sugar.
“Okay, so back to our conversation. Do you have any other ideas about how to confront Derek?” she asks in what I assume is supposed to be a whisper, but she isn’t very quiet.
I grab the sugar and scoop in a few spoons, a male noise of irritation from behind me making me smile. “Not really, no. I guess I could go wait in the staff parking lot by his car. He has to leave sometime, right?”
There is a scraping of a chair before Xavier brings his cup to the sink. Oakley and I go quiet as he rinses it out and places it on the drying rack. “You could go to his open office hours.”
Oakley’s eyes shoot to him, then back to me. “Do you know when they are?”
Xavier smirks and heads back to my bedroom. He is back a few seconds later, shoes on, and pulling on his shirt. “This afternoon. Three to five.”
Then he steps in close, captures my jaw, kisses the life out of me, and waltzes out the door like he doesn’t give two fucks if the students in the building see him.
I sigh.
The Monarchs thread on the student forums is going to go absolutely nuts, wondering why he was in the dorms.
It’s only then that I see the pink gift bag, from the photo in the thread earlier this week, sitting on our table.