Page 3 of Teach Me

A rumble of sound came from the other side. A murmur? An agreement? I wasn’t sure, but it made my balls ache as he continued to stroke me. I hadn’t had a good handjob in…I couldn’t remember, but this guy seemed to know what he was doing, and I loved that I didn’t know what was going to happen next, that the wall between us took away any ability for me to predict how he’d touch me. Every shift, every change in pace or grip was heightened, and I was close to the edge in seconds. When he stopped, a tremor of fear mixed with ecstasy surged through me. Maybe he would leave me like this, on edge and unsatisfied.

The condom rolling over me was another surprise that left me groaning with the possibilities as I gave myself over to the experience. Would he give me his ass or his mouth? I got my answer a second later as heat enveloped the crown of my cock and he gripped my base. I felt the pulse and stroke of his tongue hot against the barrier over my shaft. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I gripped the top of the stall so my knees wouldn’t buckle because it felt so fucking good, so fucking forbidden, so fuckingdifferent.

When the stranger swallowed around me for the first time, I let out a moan so loud that anyone who heard would know exactly what we were up to. I no longer cared. I was lost to the long, firm strokes of my stranger’s mouth shuttling up and down the length of my cock, the increasing tension of his fist around my base, and the way he swirled his tongue around my head on the upstroke.

My balls tingled, pressure mingling with the heat simmering low in my gut and building. If it hadn’t been for the condom, I was all but certain I would’ve already come from the explicit pleasure surging through me. It was almost too intense.

“Close,” I warned him gruffly, unsure if he’d be able to hear me.

I’d meant it as a courtesy warning, but the guy didn’t back away, instead responding with a hum that vibrated around my shaft and sent a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over me. He shifted the condom up so that his bare hand was once more on my length, a raw contrast that increased the sensitivity instantly. Too fucking much. My eyelids fluttered, and I ground out a shuddery curse as I exploded in a rush of liquid fire that danced over my nerve endings and throbbed in my balls, filling the part of the condom still suctioned to my tip.

I caught a gasp from the other side of the wall, and then the stranger eased his grip on my cock, his strokes slowing toa gentler tempo that made my limbs heavy. I rested my cheek against the wall, hands still gripping the top of the stall as I caught my breath and waited for my pulse to slow. Relief and euphoria saturated me in uneven measures until reality rushed back in when the stranger released me and cool air rushed over my exposed length. Withdrawing my dick from the hole, I realized I had no fucking idea what was supposed to come next. Was I supposed to thank the guy? Pay him? Christ, that would be awkward, and I had to assume if payment was involved, there would have been some indication of that prior.

The snap of the condom as I pulled it off and tossed it into the toilet was another reality check. I didn’t want to see the guy face-to-face, didn’t want to have some painfully awkward conversation, so I operated on the basic assumption of this being a one-off encounter, no further engagement required or expected. I didn’t want to know him at all; I just wanted him to exist as a thrilling moment in time.

In which case…I needed to get the fuck out of here.

Murmuring a thanks I wasn’t sure he heard, I tucked myself away and swiftly exited the bathroom, immersing myself in the anonymity of the crowd.

At the bar, I requested two cups of water, drained mine in a single gulp, and took the other with me to the dance floor, where I’d spotted Campbell. He no longer had another man’s tongue down his throat but was grinding with a cute twink. He spun toward me in a drunken whirl, eyes glazed. They sharpened with clarity as he registered my presence. He pouted when he saw the water in my hand.

“I wanted more sangria.”

“I know. And I wanted a date capable of common courtesy.” I tipped my chin, indicating the dance floor around us. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait, we’re leaving now?” he exclaimed, indignant. “But?—”

“No,I’mleaving. You’re free to do whatever the fuck you want, but it won’t be with me.”

“But I rode with you,” he protested, expression souring.

I offered him a grim smile. “You seem to be good at making friends. I’m sure you’ll find someone else to ride. I mean, give you a ride.”

“Is this about the guy earlier? It just happened. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to?—”

I put up a hand. “Good night, Campbell.”

I was still smiling as he called out a slur when I spun on a heel and strode toward the exit.

3

GRADY

“Just you this morning, or…”

I glanced up from the menu—not that I needed it, I almost always got the same thing—at the striking blond poised at the end of the booth, notepad in his hand. I wished I felt the way he looked, well-rested and energetic. His blue eyes were clear and bright upon me, a slash of sunlight painting white-blond highlights over the crown of his head. Cameron, I remembered, before confirming by darting a look at his name tag. I’d had him as a server a couple of other times and liked him. He was quick with a smile that read as genuine rather than forced. And he gave great service.

I set down my menu. “I’ve got a friend joining me. If you want to save yourself some legwork, you might as well put a whole pot of coffee on the table.” Remembering said friend had called me dour recently, I offered Cameron what I hoped was a friendly smile.

His easy laughter was as inviting as the humor in his eyes. “Duly noted. Want anything while you wait?”

“Just the coffee is good.”

John slid onto the bench across from me shortly after Cameron walked away. “Sorry I’m late. Unavoidable, as usual.”

“Spoken like a true lawyer. At this point, your tardiness is expected,” I chided him.

“Spoken like a true professor,” he teased me in return and flipped over his coffee mug. Before he could ask, Cameron returned with a full pot and placed it on the table, along with a carafe of cream.