Page 13 of Overeager (Extra Credit #1)

Eli

“ W as I too harsh, Deadly?”

Eli punctuated the question with a broad gesture that had his wine sloshing almost out of his glass. That was less due to any wildness on his part and more due to his glass still being completely full—Eli hadn’t taken so much as a sip yet.

Mostly because he wasn’t really sure he should be drinking at all in his current state of mind, but pouring himself a glass in celebration of the week’s end had seemed the thing to do at the time.

It was possible his head wasn’t on quite straight these days. Or that his brain had vacated the premises.

He’d gotten through the week though. He’d taught his classes, met with his TAs, and attended all his committee meetings, right on time. He’d been a good, professional professor.

Noah hadn’t shown up to his office hours even once.

Which was good , Eli reminded himself. That was exactly how it should be. With a little distance and time, they could forget the night at the cabin had ever happened.

Except Eli couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It was so stupid. He’d been married , for fuck’s sake. If anything should have been taking up space in his head, it was that. Not someone who’d been in his life for a single night and one awkward run-in afterward.

But still.

“Was I? Too harsh? I think I was.”

Deadly didn’t answer. That was because she was a stone-cold bitch when it came to romantic entanglements. Also, she was a cat, and she couldn’t speak.

“I was, wasn’t I? I should have—should have talked him through it more.”

The way you talked him through putting his dick inside you?

And just like that, Eli was wet. It was ridiculous. All it took was the mere thought of his night with Noah and he was practically dripping. He was so fucking horny lately.

It wasn’t a problem he was used to having. He liked sex fine, but he didn’t go craving it twenty-four seven. But ever since that night …

And god, when Noah had scent marked him in the classroom.

It had been the most innocuous scent marking he could have done, and it had still had Eli walking around fighting a boner all day, battling to keep his stupid pheromones in check.

And then when he’d gotten home, he’d jerked off like a sex-addled fiend, and it still hadn’t been enough.

He should have been strong. Should have showered off Noah’s pheromones as soon as he’d gotten home. But he’d slept with them still on him, sniffing at his wrist throughout the night like a fucking lunatic.

It wasn’t just that Noah smelled good—but god, did he ever. It was also that his pheromones brought Eli right back to that night. To drowning in them while Noah covered his body with his, rocking into him and looking at Eli like he’d just unlocked the mysteries of the universe for him.

It was just because you were his first. He’d be like that with anyone.

But then what was Eli’s excuse?

It hadn’t been his first, or second, or thirtieth time. And yet he was fixated on it like he wasn’t a thirty-four-year-old divorcé with a decade of marriage under his belt.

Either way, thinking about it wasn’t helping. Eli was leaking slick already, and at this rate, he’d have to change his underwear before the night was through.

He turned shamefully away from Deadly’s judgmental stare, setting his full glass of wine down and heading to the bedroom before opening the rarely used lower drawer of his bedside table.

It was a pretty sad collection staring back at him, frankly.

A dildo with an inflatable knot he never, ever used outside of heats because it kind of scared him.

And a small plug he’d bought after the separation from Richard, when he’d thought he might have some sort of sexual renaissance where he’d start using toys or whatever.

Mostly he just jerked off every now and then. Sometimes he was daring and fingered himself.

But now Eli bit at his lip, studying the plug. It would feel good to be full again, wouldn’t it? Maybe he’d stop thinking about Noah so much if he could just have one little orgasm where he was properly filled. Properly satisfied .

But that plug isn’t going to whisper how good you feel. It won’t fill you so full that every little movement brushes your prostate. It won’t smell like him or feel like him or moan all deep and sexy like he does.

God fucking damn it.

Eli picked up the dildo and the little remote control for its knot, staring at it. Maybe that would be enough. He’d guzzle his glass of wine, take a bubble bath (did he even own bubble bath?), and then fuck himself silly until he stopped thinking about alphas altogether.

He should have let Noah knot him.

Fuck. No. No knotting.

His phone buzzed.

Eli yelped, dropping the dildo onto his bed.

Faith was calling. He could ignore it, but if he didn’t pick up, she’d just keep at it. She knew he didn’t have anything else to do on a Friday night.

He accepted the call. “Heyyy.” Super cool. Super casual.

Did he sound all weird and breathy to her or was that just in his head?

“What’re you doing right now?”

“What?” Eli squeaked, covering the dildo with his comforter, as if Faith could see it over the phone. “Me? Nothing?”

“Okayyyy,” she drawled skeptically. “Then what are your plans tonight?”

“No plans! Me? What?” Eli probably sounded insane, but she’d caught him by surprise, and he couldn’t exactly tell her he’d been planning to fuck himself into brainlessness with his underused sex toys.

“You sound deranged, just so you know,” Faith told him mildly. “Anyway, you’re coming out with me and Liz.”

“I am?” Eli frowned at his phone. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. It’s the first Friday of the semester, and we are not letting you set a precedent of staying in every weekend, mourning Richard and his limp-dicked fuckery.”

“I haven’t even thought about Richard,” Eli told her truthfully. Although, he didn’t add it was because he’d been daydreaming about a different alpha’s knot.

There were some things a sister didn’t need to know.

“Good, then. But you’re taking that not-thinking party to the bar with us.”

“Faaaith,” Eli whined.

“Eliiii,” she taunted, in a frankly offensively poor imitation of his voice. Then she brought out the big guns. “Liz misses you.”

Damn. She was pulling the wife card. Why did Liz have to be such a sweetheart? Couldn’t Faith have married someone as evil and devious as herself?

“Fine,” Eli sighed, giving in to the inevitable. “But I’m not dressing cute. And you’re buying.”

“As if either of those things were in question. Your style is atrocious.”

“I’m flipping you off right now,” Eli told her as he rummaged in his dresser drawer for a fresh pair of underwear. “You just can’t see it.”

“We’re picking you up in an hour. Dress however horribly you want, but you better not be in pajamas when we get there.”

Eli looked down at his pajama bottoms and threadbare tee. “It’s Friday night,” he scoffed. “Of course I’m not in pajamas.”

He hung up on Faith’s wicked cackling.

Sisters were the worst.

The bar Faith and Liz brought Eli to was more of a dive than their usual haunts. It was a dimly lit narrow rectangle of a building, a long stretch of bar on one side and small booths lining the other, with a single pool table in the back.

Nonetheless, it was already packed, pheromones mingling in the air like a hundred different clashing perfumes.

The patrons were a mix of hip, young professionals who’d clearly been at it since happy hour, bar rats who’d possibly been at it since the early morning, and music scene punks killing time before the night’s show two doors down.

Despite the crowd, Faith somehow managed to get them a table within minutes. Eli wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d stabbed someone with one of her stilettos for it, but he was willing to put aside his morals if it meant getting to stay seated for a few hours.

“How did you hear about this place?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

“One of my clients said it was a cozy spot.” Faith glanced around at the crowd, which was lively without being too rowdy. “I have to agree.”

By the end of the first drink—gin and tonics for all of them, since Faith had declared she didn’t trust the wine selection at a place like this—Eli had mellowed into something moderately human.

The alcohol might have been part of it, but Liz’s presence helped too.

She was a sweet woman with gentle, soothing omega pheromones, and she had a way of putting people at ease without even trying.

Which meant she couldn’t have been more of an opposite to Faith, who specialized in riling people up. Yet somehow, they were matched perfectly. Eli had long given up trying to figure it out, grateful that his sister had found someone who loved her exactly as she was.

When they’d all finished their first drink, Eli rose from the booth, gathering their empties. “I’ll get this round.”

Faith smirked at him, arching a perfectly manicured brow. “I thought I was getting all your drinks tonight. My penance for daring to force you into having a good time.”

“Just hush and accept the gesture.”

Liz smiled sweetly up at him, her round cheeks dimpling. “Thanks, Eli.”

Eli smiled just as sweetly back at her, stuck his tongue out at Faith, and shouldered through the crowd to a less occupied end of the bar.

There was a bartender under the bar, tapping a new keg.

His head was hidden, but the backs of his shoulders were visible.

They were good, strong shoulders, and for just a second, Eli thought …

But that was crazy. His horny yearnings were clearly starting to cloud his mind. He just needed to grab fresh drinks and get back to Faith and Liz and the realm of the sane.

And then the bartender popped up, wiping his arm across his forehead.

Noah.

Noah, looking sinfully good in a tight black tee and worn jeans. He was covered in a faint sheen of sweat, clearly working hard, and his pheromones hit Eli like a ton of forbidden, delicious-smelling bricks.

At the sight of Eli in front of him, Noah’s wide mouth turned up into an impossibly broad grin. “Eli.”

He looked happy to see him. Why did he look happy to see him? Shouldn’t he be mad at Eli? Upset and disappointed at the very least, given their last interaction.

But Noah looked like seeing Eli on the other side of the bar was the best thing to happen to him in ages.

“Noah,” Eli managed to say somewhat normally. Maybe.

Noah leaned over the bar, his biceps flexing in a very distracting way. “You stalking me, professor?”

“I— Uh— What?”

Noah sniffed, not even attempting subtlety, and a dark look crossed his face, his brow furrowing and his smile faltering. “You smell like an alpha.”

“I— Who—” Eli was a professor, for fuck’s sake. Why was he suddenly incapable of stringing more than two words together? “Sister!” he squawked, grateful the hum of the bar was loud enough to keep this conversation private. “I’m here with my sister!”

Noah’s brow smoothed, and he looked behind Eli, presumably trying to scope out Faith, who Eli prayed to all that was holy was not watching this interaction, or he’d never live it down.

Whatever he found had Noah grinning again, his dimples flashing. “And you just happened to come to my bar? Must be fate.”

That was … that was a good line.

Eli frowned at him. “You’re a flirt,” he accused.

Noah winked. He winked. “Only with you.”

That was also a good line.

Eli hummed doubtfully before he remembered he didn’t have a right to care who Noah did or didn’t flirt with. He tried to redirect his righteous indignation. “Are you old enough to be behind that bar?”

Noah didn’t exactly roll his eyes, but the urge was clearly there.

“I’m twenty-one, Eli,” he said, exasperation covering up his flirty tone.

“And I’m only a barback, anyway. But I can pass your order on to Jolene over there.

” He tilted his head toward the closest bartender, a gorgeous beta woman Eli suddenly found himself wanting to growl at.

What right did she have to work alongside Noah, looking like that?

She should cover up. And hide her face. And also switch careers to modeling and leave innocent collegiate alphas alone to barback in peace.

He turned back to find Noah grinning at him, like he was delighted by something Eli had done. “Hey, Eli,” Noah crooned, his pheromones blossoming into something rich and salty.

Eli’s heart was suddenly beating faster than it should be. “Yes?”

“I have a break coming up in an hour. Spend it with me?”

“Um. I really shouldn’t …”

“I just want to talk.” Noah’s lips pursed into something akin to a pout, even as his eyes danced. “I think you owe me that much. A real conversation?”

Eli had the vague sense that he was being played.

But nothing Noah was saying was wrong , exactly.

Eli did owe Noah a conversation. He’d been too caught off guard earlier in the week, and he hadn’t been as kind as he should have been.

He’d taken Noah’s virginity, for heaven’s sake. He should take responsibility.

“Of course.” He nodded, hoping the gesture hid the fact that he was surreptitiously trying to inhale more of Noah’s heavenly scent. “A conversation.”

The grin Noah gave him was blinding. “Perfect. Now what can we get you, Professor? Whatever it is, it’s on the house.”