Page 3 of Study Hard
He gave me a devilish grin, then cocked his head. “Come on. I’ll make it fun, and I promise you you’ll actually be studying.”
Intrigued, I considered it, eyeing Eric’s sultry hooded gaze with both niggling suspicion and growing desire. Rarely was anything to the point with him; he could make a direct line swerve in a million different directions before it reached its final destination. But that trait of his had led us to some very interesting places, and regardless of whether or not there was some devious intent behind the offer—and there likely was—Eric was honest. So if he said there’d be studying, I knew he meant it. It was just a matter of how much my balls were going to suffer in the process.
Clearly interpreting my silent acquiescence, Eric straightened with purpose. “Give me five minutes, then bring your stuff to my room.”
“Wait, this requires actual prep on your part?”
“There’s nothing wrong with prep.” His lips twisted scandalously, and he cut a pointed look at my crotch before he turned on his heel and left the kitchen.
It tookme fifteen minutes to do all the dishes. Fifteen minutes, which was plenty of time for me to get worked up and horny. I had to pin my erection behind the waistband of my boxers so it wouldn’t keep thwapping against the counter as I shuffled between the sink and the dishwasher rinsing and loading, then handwashing the rest that wouldn’t fit while my thoughts swam in a sea of filthy possibility.
I headed upstairs, stopping in the bathroom Jesse, Eric, and I shared to do a quick hygiene check and refresh. All good, I ambled back down the hall, grabbed my books and note cards from my room, changed into a pair of sweatpants, then shoved through Eric’s cracked door.
On his floor were a pair of my boxers and a T-shirt. Similar crossover of wardrobe existed in my room. That we still maintained separate rooms at this point seemed moot, but I picked up the tee and boxers and tossed them toward the doorway anyway so I could stick them in my laundry bag—if I even ended up going back to my room tonight. The look Eric gave me as I entered had me immediately recalibrating the probability of that.
He pushed back from his desk and extended his hand. I plunked the note cards in them and dropped to the edge of the bed, where he came to me and this time tilted my chin up himself, lowering his mouth to mine. Just like that. No preamble, just the crazy intoxicating meld of his mouth with mine. I loved how the sensation rushed through me, the discombobulation of being caught off guard mellowing into a tantalizing warmth as my mind caught up to my body and settled into the kiss. I hooked a finger through the belt loop of his shorts to keep him in place while he parted my lips with his, ours tongues sliding in a velvety dance I could easily get lost in.
He braced one hand against my knee and spread it wider. For all the hesitation I’d had so many months ago about this simple act with him, it was one of the things I enjoyed between us the most now. His thumb caressed the curve of my jaw and traveled down my throat, and just when I was about to say screw the studying for at least another hour, Eric backed off, reaching between us to pry my grip loose from his shorts as he gave me a questioning glance, a perfectly composed counterpart to my general dishevelment.
“Ready?”
“Nope.” I made a futile grab for him. “There’s no way I can concentrate with a raging boner. You’ll need to fix that.”
“I disagree.”
“Disagree all you want. Fact remains.”
Eric smiled at the petulance in my voice and rapped the note cards lightly atop his palm before flipping through them, casually ignoring my demand.
“Looks like about fifty or so flash cards, so we’ll take them in sets of five. For each set, if you get them all right, you’ll receive a reward. Get one wrong and I choose a punishment. Every card you get wrong goes into a separate pile. We’ll go through them again once we’ve finished, then I’ll shuffle them back into the main set and we’ll repeat the whole thing over again until you get every single one of them right.”
I groaned. “This just sounds like a really intricate way for you to edge me for hours—and heavily weighted on the punishment side.” When he remained silent, a devious close-lipped smile playing over his mouth, I laughed in disbelief. “Oh fuck me, it is.”
Eric’s smile transformed into a blatant leer.
Blowing out a breath, I squirmed in anticipation at the end of the bed, but there was absolutely no hiding how into this version of “studying” I was. I wondered if I could beat him at his own game. Ihadbeen going over the cards religiously for the past few days. “Deal, but the next time I help you study, same rules apply.”
“Deal.”
Eric yanked his desk chair around and centered it a couple of feet in front of my spot at the end of the bed before plopping into it, his posture ramrod straight as he neatened the stack of cards in his hands.
“Very interrogation-style. I’m into it. I think.” At least, I was into having him front and center before me. He’d changed out of his wet clothes and, like me, was wearing a pair of sweats. The T-shirt he’d added was a damn shame, though.
“First question,” he barked out, drill sergeant crisp as he shuffled the note cards one last time and pulled out the first one. “Compare institutional relations between parliamentary, presidential, and semi-presidential systems.”
“With pleasure.” I smirked, because I definitely knew this one.
Eric squinted one eye at me. “We’ll see about that.”
Why did that sound so ominous?
I rattled off the answer with a grin, and we moved on to the next question, and then the next. At the end of the set, I beamed triumphantly. “So what’s my reward?”
“You’re a show-off, you know that?”
I laughed. “No I’m not. You set the terms. Quit delaying. Reward. Now.” I snapped my fingers, happily noting the flare of heat and defiance in his eyes, and spread my knees insinuatingly—in case he needed some ideas for what kind of reward I felt would be suitable. Not that he would go for it. He’d had fifteen minutes to devise various ways to torture me, and knowing his devious mind, he honestly only needed about two.
Eric lifted his chin and eyed me thoughtfully before sliding from the chair, his expression carefully neutral. Oh Jesus, for once he was actually going to take my direction. I couldn’t fucking believe it. As I watched, wary of a plot twist, Eric’s hands landed on my kneecaps and pushed them apart, making room as he eased between, then bearing his weight as he lifted up and closed his mouth around my nipple.