Page 22

SYMPHONY

M y whole body goes hot reading that message.

But class isn’t until noon.

But I also never finished reading the preparatory book.

But I also so want back in Diesel’s bed.

When I got home and showered, just the thought of him set me off. I tried using my battery-operated boyfriend, but BOB was not up to the task.

When did I become so insatiable?

No, no, no. Someone has to have a clear head around here. I force myself to type him the worse message ever.

Me: I have class today.

His reply is near-instant.

Diesel: I want to fuck you in the classroom.

Oh, Jesus. Now I’m feeling weak in the knees. I can’t help myself when I answer.

Me: I think I’d like that.

Diesel: Let’s make it happen.

My mind races. Is he serious? Is this my life? Where could we do this?

Silly Symphony. You already know.

Me: Lots of unused rooms during the summer. Might be locked, tho.

Diesel: Good thing locks don’t stop me.

Me: Are you serious?

Diesel: I’ve never fucked anyone in a college classroom.

Something new for Diesel. That’s heady stuff.

Could I get expelled? Maybe.

Clear head! Clear head!

But instead of having one, I give him the address of my poli-sci building and the time I get out of class.

Oh, what have I done?

I spend the morning speed reading The Origins of Totalitarianism . I’m supposed to pick up Jenna on the way to campus. But I tell her I’m seeing Diesel after, so she drives herself.

When she drops into the chair next to me in the classroom, she doesn’t mince words. “Marietta says you did the deed with Diesel last night at his house.”

That was fast.

“Did she tell you what she did?”

“Flashed the bar? Yeah. Was she drunk?”

“Not at that point. She took a shot, but it hadn’t had time to kick in.”

Jenna taps her notebook with a pen. She’s old school in class. Says she’s too afraid of a technical malfunction to rely on her laptop. “I have a theory,” she says.

I eye the professor walking up to the podium. Our talking time is almost over.

“What’s that?”

“The Leaky Skull is a portal to another world, and it makes people do the craziest stuff.”

“I wasn’t at the bar when I got naked with Diesel at the reception.”

“You what ?” Jenna says it so loud that the whole classroom quiets.

The professor taps his podium with his laser pointer. “All right, everyone. Let’s go over the syllabus.”

I slide my iPad out of its case, feeling Jenna’s gaze on me. I never told any of them what happened at the wedding.

Maybe Jenna’s right. We got zapped by the Leaky Skull neon and all went wild.

Okay, Marietta and I went wild.

Jenna leans in while the professor puts up a QR code to download the syllabus. “You’re going to spill later.”

Class is interminably long. I thankfully absorbed enough of The Origins of Totalitarianism to talk about it with at least a smidge of intelligence.

When we’re released, Jenna won’t leave my side. “Where are you meeting him?”

I don’t want to admit to what I’m about to do, so I play dumb. “You mean Diesel?”

“Of course, I do!” She examines my outfit. “Why are you wearing a skirt?”

Damn it. She’s figuring this out.

“We haven’t decided where we’re meeting.” Which is technically true since we haven’t chosen a classroom. But I don’t want to admit that it’s here on campus.

Of course, I’m immediately exposed when we step out into the Florida sunshine to spot Diesel leaning on his motorcycle right outside the door.

Jenna stops cold. “He’s here ?”

“Yeah. He’s going to give me a ride on his bike.”

Diesel holds his helmet under his arm. “Ladies.”

“Diesel.” Jenna tilts her head to squint at him. “You taking Symphony somewhere?”

He turns to hook his helmet on the back of his seat. “I’m definitely taking her.”

Oh, God. Diesel is too much.

I push Jenna forward. “She was just going. See you Wednesday unless you want a study session.”

She takes a few steps before turning around. “I’m texting you later. I’m going to want all the deets.” She pauses. “On class, of course.” Then she laughs.

Diesel looks cool and confident in his dark jeans, boots, and leather vest over a black T-shirt. He’s caught the eye of literally every female coming out of the building, even my seventy-year-old prof from last semester.

He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head to make the layers fall back into place. His skull chain rattles. Everyone within a hundred yards is rapt.

He watches Jenna go. “You bachelorettes really do hang out together everywhere.”

I don’t know what to say to that, or what to say at all. I’m not well versed on hot guy hookups out in public. Or at all. I don’t think a single man I dated in undergrad commanded the attention of the entire population like this one does.

It’s intimidating.

He looks up at the brick building. “This the place?”

“Yeah.”

“You spend a lot of time here?”

“Yes. Graduate classes tend to be clustered in the primary building of the major.”

Diesel takes it all in. “I never considered college.”

“You could still do it.”

He shrugs. “I like my trial by fire, not theory.” He reaches for my hand. “You ready to sully the sanctity of this institution of higher learning?”

I nod as he leads us back into the building.

It’s quiet, thankfully, the students safely tucked into the next block of classes. We pass the administrative office for political science, and the front desk assistant glances up at us and does a double take at Diesel.

Oh, we’re getting noticed. I hurry our steps.

“Someone’s in a rush to get naked,” Diesel says.

“Shhh!” I drag him to a stairwell.

He glances around. “Risky. I like it.”

I climb the steps, pulling on his hand. “Not here! Let’s find a room.”

The building has three stories, and I figure the top level is bound to be the emptiest. I drag him up another level.

The hall is silent and still. I pause, examining the various doors. I’ve been up here a lot. Most of the classrooms are small. They’ll work.

“Smells like teen spirit,” Diesel says.

This makes me laugh. “I think every school at every level, from elementary all the way to post-doc, uses the same industrial cleaner.”

“And has for decades.” He peers into the tiny square window of the nearest door. “We could have a peep show with these.”

He’s right. We walk down the hall, and every single room has one. Anyone could look in, and there is no hidden corner anywhere.

“Maybe this isn’t going to work,” I say.

“The danger is the fun,” he says, pulling me close.

The bulge between us tells me he’s already picturing what we’ll do. My body buzzes with the thrill.

And I get an idea.

“Let’s see if we can get in.” I turn away to tug on a handle. Locked. “I’ll check the others. Surely one of them was used at some point today.”

I go down the corridor, trying each one. All locked. I guess they don’t need this floor during the summer.

When I turn around to tell Diesel the bad news, he pops one of the doors open. He holds up a credit card. “Old building, old-school locks.”

“How did you do that?”

“Just jiggle it down. Takes some practice.” He holds the door open for me.

“In movies, they always just shove it in there.”

“They purposefully botch it in movies, or else locks would become pointless.”

I see.

The room is semi-dark, sunlight bleeding through the beige roll-down shades. The industrial cleaner smell is stronger in here, trapped since spring semester ended.

Diesel wanders to a wide desk at the front. “This is promising.”

A hot thrill zips through me. The teacher’s desk. That’s the ultimate.

But first, the door window.

I set my backpack on a student desk and unzip the top. I pull out a notebook and a pack of gum.

Diesel sits on the desk to watch as I tear a piece of paper out of the notebook and shove a stick of gum in my mouth.

“I knew you were a sharp one,” he says.

I chew enough to get the gum soft and stick it to the top of the paper. “We make a good team.”

The wad of gum sticks nicely to the glass, and the paper easily covers the frame.

I guess I’m doing this.

When I turn around, Diesel already has a condom wrapper out and waiting on the desk. “Get over here, you naughty little schoolgirl.”

My pulse jumps. This man keeps pushing buttons I didn’t know existed.

I take my time approaching him. “Will I definitely get an A after this?”

“Fuck, yeah,” he says. “Now take off those panties.”

I lift my skirt enough to hook my fingers inside the lace edge.

Diesel’s eyes follow my every move, but I don’t give him a show, working them down below the knee-length skirt. I kick the panties aside.

“Mmmm,” he says. “Come over here.”

I move closer, and he reaches out, one hand coming behind my neck to drag me close and the other going directly beneath my skirt.

His mouth takes mine, and my breath catches. Diesel is always so much, so assured, so intense.

His fingers slide in and grip me, holding tight. I’m instantly slick.

The kiss is heady, deep, and flavored with nothing but him, his heat, his unique taste.

He curves his hand inside me and hits the spot that makes my knees go weak.

I gasp against his mouth. What does he do down there? He finds things BOB has never reached.

“You want to come now or with me inside you?” His words caress the edges of my mouth.

“Both,” I tell him.

“Done,” he says, and his grip shifts again, fingers fluttering, then gripping me again.

Oooh, shit, he’s got me. He knows me too well. I cling to him, my legs turned to water, panting against his shoulder. The orgasm zigzags through my body, passing through my vision in shards of light.

I clamp down on his hand. It’s so intense. I wonder if I could crush his bones.

But he holds on to me, keeping me steady with a grip at the base of my head.

The spasms keep coming, but my legs get sturdy again.

Then he lets go of my neck and slides his hand under my shirt, releasing my bra with practiced ease.

Then my buttons are flying apart in front. He squeezes a breast, shoving aside the bra so he can lower his head to a nipple.

This is completely too wild. My addled vision spots an old reverse globe in the corner, the surface mostly black, and I realize I took my US Constitution class in here.

I can almost see myself, first semester of grad school, taking notes a few steps away.

And now, Jesus, Diesel whips me around to face away from him. I’m pushed over the edge of the desk, my naked chest pressed against the shiny surface.

He pushes the skirt out of the way, one hand sliding between my breast and the desk to squeeze me.

I hear the jingle of his belt and the tear of the condom wrapper. He leans over my back. “For the record, I’d fuck you like this even if your class was watching.”

Oh, God, now I’m seeing it, the students in their seats. The professor sputters in the corner at our abomination. It makes me even more wet.

His body presses against me from behind, then he shoves his way inside.

I let out a low squeal, and Diesel’s hand tightens around my breast, pinching the nipple.

Do I like that? I think I do, feeling another rush of wetness. I’ve learned more about myself in three days than in the last twenty-six years.

“I want it hard. So fucking hard,” I tell him.

And he gives it, holding one of my hips and slamming into me.

The desk scoots forward with each thrust, scraping the floor as we go.

I feel wild and high, so high, like I’ve taken a hit off celestial adrenaline. I could orgasm from that alone, but then Diesel reaches around to finger me while he works me from behind.

Tears squeeze from my eyes. I want this constantly. I want it again, even before this one ends. I want to fuck in every room, in the stairwell, on the front steps. I want to experience every crazy, salacious, wild thing with him. I want to shock people?—

I start to come again, this one dark and heavy and deep, like it’s spiraling from an abyss. I squeeze my eyes shut, surrendering to the storm.

My legs shake, my body quivers. None of that matters. The wave rolls over me like I’ve fallen into night. I spin in space, thrumming with the universe, vaguely hearing sounds I’m making, words Diesel is saying, but mostly, just riding the high.

It takes its time. There is only energy, sparkling and complete, like I’ve finished painting a picture, and there is nothing left but to love it.

Then it recedes, and the edge of the desk presses hard against my thighs. My cheek is flat against the top. I’m clutching either side, holding on like it’s the door in Titanic. I will not let go.

Diesel has both arms around my waist, pressed between my body and the hard desk. He’s gone still, breathing against my back.

This part is physically uncomfortable with the hard desk beneath me, but I don’t want to move. I want to seize this moment of aftermath since the orgasmic one is already slipping away like an ocean wave retreating from the shore.

“You all right?” Diesel’s voice rumbles through my bones.

“Yeah.” I close my eyes to the window light. I want to sleep here, caught up in him. I regret leaving him last night. I want to return to that bed and its tight, smooth covers and never go outside.

He pulls away. I have to push myself to stand. Everything is shaky.

I reach behind me to fasten the bra, but I never do it that way, and I can’t get the ends together. I’m a fasten-in-front-and-turn-it girl.

“I’ll get that.” Diesel lifts the back of my shirt and tugs the hooks into the loops. “Turn around.”

I do, and he buttons my shirt slowly and carefully like he’s the designer admiring his work.

I lift my head to watch him. He has tiny creases around his eyes. His gaze meets mine, and when he smiles, my legs get all wobbly again. What is it with this man? And how can I keep him?

That’s impossible. I’ve already gotten more than I expected, than anyone thought I could.

I step away and bend down to snatch up my panties. I can’t seem to make myself put them on after they’ve been on a classroom floor, so I stuff them in my backpack. I’ll have to be careful walking outside in this skirt.

“You leaving those off?” Diesel asks, and I catch the hitch in his voice.

There might be one way to hang on to him. He does seem hot for me.

I have to be bold. “I’ve decided not to wear them anymore.”

His throat bobs. “Ever?”

“Never. Makes it easier.”

His jaw tightens. “For anyone?”

I shrug like maybe that’s true. “For now, it will be easier for you. Then it will be easier for whoever’s next.”

He lets out growl. “Tomorrow is my day off from the bar. Where will you be?”

I want it to be in his bed, but I can’t overplay my hand.

“I’m headed to the public library on Duvall.”

“To study?”

“Alone, probably. It’s my favorite library. They have the cutest room in back for book sales. It’s almost always empty, but if you stand in the right spot, you can see out over the stacks. While you’re reading, of course.”

Diesel lets out a long, slow breath. “Text me the address.”

Looks like there will be a next time.