Page 11 of Want Me

My nerves jangled, and I made a face at him as he pulled out the empty chair next to mine. “Knucklehead? Really?”

“Dude? Man? Fuckface? You’d rather one of those?” He picked up the bottle of water I’d sat in the empty carrel next to me, uncapped it, and took a long swallow. My gaze strayed to his throat, the lean lines and dark scruff peppering the arteries that pulsed with his heartbeat. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and I felt myself reflexively swallowing, too. My mouth was watering.

“Oh sure, help yourself,” I muttered.

His grinned as he capped the bottle and set it back down, gaze flickering to my crotch like I’d issued an invitation, and fuck if I wasn’t getting hard when his eyes drifted back up to meet mine. He stretched his legs out in the chair, then pushed back, hips arching forward as he dug into the pocket of his shorts, withdrawing a Dum Dum sucker.

“What’re you up to?” I asked, determined to play it cool.

Eric popped the sucker in his mouth, rolling it from side to side a few times, then let it settle in one corner, where it made his cheek bulge as he spoke around it. “Ansel said you were up here studying. I had to pick up some articles my history prof left for us.” He reached to thump a thick packet of papers peeking out of his back pocket. “Figured I’d say hello.”

“Hello.” I forced my gaze back to my textbook, willing my dick to settle down as he wrapped his lips around the sucker again. He was probably just going to town on that sucker like anyone else would, but in my hypersensitive state, it was like my ears were picking up every fine aural detail of his progress. Every soft smack and slurp, the sound of the candy rolling over his teeth. My shoulders tensed, then relaxed when he gave it a rest and set the sucker on top of the wrapper on the desk in front of him.

“You all right?”

“Yeah, stressed, as usual.”

“Calculus? I can help.”

“Nope, philosophy this time.”

He wrinkled his nose in sympathy, then laced his fingers behind his head. I turned my focus back to the page I was reading, then realized I’d read the same sentence three times in a row. I could feel him watching me, and when I turned my head to check, I was right. His gaze trickled down from the crown of my head to my lap, slow as a drop of water down the glass of the window behind me. My cock jumped in my pants, and I shifted my legs restlessly. The thing needed a leash.

“You want some stress relief?” he offered.

No. It was on the tip of my tongue to say it, because I was frustrated by the whole situation, but fuck, the way he was sitting there so casually, his legs sprawled, his thickening cock starting to push at his fly… I inhaled deeply through my nose, and as I exhaled, found myself saying, “Like what?”

“Not sure yet,” he mused, posture straightening. He moved to the edge of his seat, scooting his chair in closer so he was right next to me, and even though I kind of knew what was coming, I still flinched when he laid his hand over the top of my thigh.

“Not right here,” I said, lowering my voice. But fuck if I didn’t widen my legs in the same breath, a taboo thrill running through me at being in public. Shit, regardless of Eric, I was starting to think I really did have a thing for being watched—or the threat of getting caught, at least.

Eric palmed my crotch, spreading his fingers over the bulge in my gym shorts. His warmth seeped through the silky mesh fabric and woke my cock right the fuck up.

I glanced around. There was no one to either side of us, and behind me was just a bank of windows that looked over the main quad below. But there were a trio of heads in the carrels across from me. I could hear them when they whispered or turned a page in their books, and I had to muffle a growl when Eric tucked his hand behind the waistband of my shorts, grazing his fingertips over my swollen head.

“No?” It was practically a purr, and it rolled over my skin like warm oil and flooded me with furiously spreading heat that tightened my balls.

He took my silence for the assent it was, and I clamped my lower lip between my teeth as he wedged his hand deeper into my shorts and wrapped it around the base of my cock, giving it a sharp, pulsing squeeze that made me suck in a breath.

“Freeballing?”

“Yeah,” I stuttered out, my dick jumping in his hand as he squeezed again.

“Good deal.”

He gave me a few light, feathery strokes that had my hips surging up into the contact, and then his hand tightened like a vice around my shaft, thumb tracing my head in a tantalizing sweep as he leaned in. His whisper washed over me like pure, searing desert heat, the ownership in it shooting straight to my core and making me dizzy. “I want that nut you’re working up right now.”

“Fuck,” I hissed so loud that when I glanced up, I could see the person in the carrel across from me trying to subtly peer over the divider.

I hunched over my desktop to conceal the view of Eric’s hand as it plunged deeper, scooping up my balls and kneading them.

“That sounded like a yes to me.”

“Not here,” I whispered again and yanked his hand from my pants. Even though by then, shit, I was definitely seeing the appeal in letting him get me off right there. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay quiet enough, and though the thrill of possibly getting caught was hot, the reality of a charge for public indecency was not. I needed some ninja skills for that, or a lot more experience, and the whole novelty of getting off with a dude who knew what the hell he was doing was still so keen-edged that I didn’t have a shot.

“Spoilsport. I was enjoying the challenge, but I guess you’re right.” Eric picked up his sucker again, stuffing the wrapper in his back pocket. “You’re a noisy fucker, so maybe a little more buffer is a good idea. Come on.”

He adjusted himself and stood.