Eighteen (18)(25)

“Where are we going?”

He ignores me. Stares straight ahead.

“Fucking fine,” I sigh. I push the helmet onto my head, swing my legs over the seat, and scoot up next to his back.

Throb for him.

“Scoot closer,” he says over his shoulder.

I can feel the muscles in his back through his t-shirt because he has no jacket on. It was hot today and typically I’d be bitching about eighty-degree weather in January. But those muscles under his shirt change my mind. I press my head into his back and smell him as we take off.





Chapter Fourteen





We end up at his house, which is indeed less than two hundred yards from my own apartment. I take off the helmet and hand it over to his waiting hands, watching as he tucks it back into the packs. “Why didn’t you just text me and tell me to come here? I took the bus over to Gilbert.”

He looks at me with something that might be curiosity. “To see how you’d manage to get to school without your friend’s ride.”

“Asshole. You could’ve saved me an hour of time.”

“Bygones, Shannon.”

I screw up my face at him. “What?”

“Just let it go. You’re here now.”

Here is a small bungalow, typical of old-town Anaheim. One story, possibly an attic, with those thick columns on either side of the front porch. We’re not in front, which is good. I don’t need any nosy neighbors seeing me here with him. We’re in the back where he’s got a huge five-car garage.

I’m not kidding, five cars. That garage has to be twice the size of the house. “What’s with the massive garage?” I ask.

“Cars,” he says.

OK, asshole. Remind me again why I’m with him and not Sunday?

I follow him up the back steps and he holds the door open for me, waving me forward.

He grabs my ass and squeezes hard as I walk past.

I throb. And gasp. But mostly throb.

That’s why, Shannon. He’s gonna fuck me. But then… “Hey, you said I could watch you jerk off in the classroom.”

That makes him smile. I like the smile. He likes me dirty, I realize. Dirty makes him smile. “We can do that tomorrow when you have to go for science. But until you finish all those tests you spoke so highly of at our first meeting, we meet here at three o’clock on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And if you’re a bad girl, Saturdays and Sundays too.”

“I can’t on Saturdays. I told my brother-in-law I’d babysit for him while he works during the day.”

“Ah,” he says, turning to the fridge to grab two beers. “Well, we better make the most of the days we have then, right?” He hands me a beer and I take it. “But don’t think we won’t be fucking in the classroom too.”

“Is that the only thing you want from me?” It comes out with a sneer.

“Nope,” he says, popping the top of his beer off using the counter. He takes mine, does the same, and hands it back. “But it’s definitely up there at number one.”

“Why? You like the idea of getting caught?”

“No, Shannon, I like the possibility of getting caught. Fucking you here will be wild and fun. But fucking you there will be erotic. Taboo. Do you like taboo sex?”

“I’m not really sure what that means.” I laugh, taking a drink of my beer to hide my blush.

He lifts me up and sets me on the counter, spreading my legs and moving in between them. “Forbidden relationships, Shannon. Like this one.”

“Hmm, but it’s not really all that dangerous for me, though. That’s what you said last night.”

“Who cares? You’re not even into it yet. I am. So I’m the one who needs the thrill.”

Jesus. I am not used to twenty-eight-year-old guys. They just say whatever the fuck they want. I’m used to Sundays. Although he’s sweeter than I’m used to as well.

“You better be thinking about me,” Mateo says. His hands are on my thighs, rubbing them softly.

I’m definitely thinking about him.

“And don’t worry. If sucking my dick in the classroom isn’t enough to thrill you, I’ll think up something that will.”

My mouth makes this little O shape. I exhale as I picture me on my knees in front of his chair in the classroom, my lips wrapped around his thick cock.

“That do it for you?”

I nod. I cannot wait.

“Well, good.” And then he turns around, grabs a red book off the table, and plops it down on the counter next to me.

“What’s that?”

“Your homework. You like tests? You want to pass this class with tests? I got your book changed. They use this one for the self-paced trig class at Fullerton College. So it will transfer.”