Someone to Love(65)

“What’s this? Bribing law enforcement with sexual favors?” I knew she’d make a damn good criminal.

She caresses her hand over the bulge in my jeans until there’s an ache in my gut only Kenny and her unstoppable body can cure.

“I’d like to speak to the ‘head’ of police, please.” She gives my crotch a gentle squeeze when she says it.

“Now?” I glance around at the empty room, inspecting it for signs of unwanted life. The slotted windows, on either door, afford a view of bodies milling in the hall.

Kenny pulls off her jeans with lightning speed, leaving her sweater hanging low in the back. I’m caught off guard by her over-eagerness to please.

“I checked the schedule.” She lowers her lids, already thirsting for more. “This room sits empty for the next four hours.”

“Kenny…” I tick back a notch, wondering why the hell I’m even implying a protest. “You’re still sore.”

“I’m over it.” She bites her lip until all color bleeds out then slowly releases.

“You’re lying.”

“Do you care?”

“A little.” Okay, a lot, but she’s ground down my defenses with that smoldering look in her eye. I want her bad and am willing to risk everything I’ve worked for at Garrison to have her right here in the classroom that the powers that be had the poor judgment to gift me with.

“Desk or chair?” Her breathing grows rapid as she moves her hips in time with mine like we’re dancing.

“Most definitely desk.” I cup my hands over her bare bottom, and she takes in a quick breath.

Kenny slides onto the desk without ever taking her eyes from mine. She pulls me between her smooth silken legs, and I burst out of my boxers like a wound-up spring. She guides me into her body, tight and wet, and that alone evicts a groan from deep in my gut.

I’ve had sex at Garrison before. I’m not too proud of the time I spent in the many janitorial closets or the new wing of the music department while it stalled in construction, but this is Kenny opening her wings for me like a dove. I can’t get inside her fast enough, deep enough. Just knowing its Kenny I’m experiencing this with makes it the only time that matters.

I knead my hands into her hips, pull her forward and indulge in a deep, strong plunge that makes me groan a little louder than intended. I try to ease in and out, glide my way to ecstasy, but I’ve crossed the line and it’s impossible to slow down now. I sink my hand over her warm slick and rub until she’s along for the ride. I want Kenny to remember the thrill of the moment, experience every good sensation right along with me. Every time she looks at this desk, I want her to blush ten shades of crimson.

I wait for her until she’s almost there, but the tiny whimpers, the strangled moans that wrench from her are driving me insane. I push in and spasm over her, blowing a sharpened breath in her ear. She shivers beneath me and trembles while clutching at my shirt as if she were about to die.

I pull back and lock onto her lethargic eyes, clear as ice. She looks stoned, drugged out of her ever-loving mind for me.

“Let the record show I don’t go easy on criminals,” I pant.

“Let the record show”—she leans in and whispers—“I don’t give a flying fuck about your badge.” She bows into me with her words, and I fire up again like an engine.

I press a kiss against her ear. “Sentencing for your crimes will begin this evening. Be warned, I specialize in cruel and unusual punishments.”

She looks up with a devilish grin. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

The bad boy in me perks to attention, and I give a little laugh. “I loved you the minute I saw you, Kenny. And now I know why.”

She brands me with her lips, and I push into her all over again.





14


Kendall

Hat Trick





Okay.

Don’t panic.

I’m sure there’s no real injury taking place in my baby-making station. It just feels as though I’ve managed to sterilize myself forever thanks to the self-inflicted ulcers.

I try to engage in even-keeled breathing as I walk into my final class of the day where I secretly plan on tracing out Cruise’s body in lieu of the relic they have posing for his birthday suit pictorial. I don’t pay much attention to the women.

I’m hoping at some point technique will be integrated into the lessons, but I’m guessing that’s not today since I spot Professor Webber near the back toking off a hookah. God, I hope there’s something legal floating around in that oversized bong of hers.

I’m still hopped up on my exchange with “Professor Elton.” And that syllabus entailed quite a laundry list of public facilities—the library, the staff lounge—the tower.