Teach Me(45)

All the little things. The things nobody else sees.

The things that make him mine.

The popcorn bowl is empty, but before I can leave to take it to the kitchen, he grabs my hand, still greasy with butter, and catches my eye, slowly licking every digit clean. By the time he reaches my pinky finger, I’m running my hands through his hair, trying to lie back and drag him on top of me.

He grins. “Uh-uh.” With one swipe of his arm, he swings me over until I’m straddling him, evidence of his intentions prodding me through his thin sweats. It doesn’t take us long to disrobe, lights on this time. Normally I’m self-conscious about my body, but the way his eyes drink me in, like every inch is another delicious morsel and he can’t get enough, I feel like a goddess.

“Why can’t I get enough of you?” he groans as he pulls my thighs to either side of him.

“Because you fit me so fucking well?” I murmur as I let my body sink, savoring every inch as I impale myself on his cock. He fills me utterly, so deep my belly twinges, and it aches but so good, like I’m finally complete.

“Harper.”

“Jack.”

We start to move in earnest. He thrusts up into me, harder, faster, and his teeth grind against my nipple while his fingers pinch the other one, making me gasp in pleasure and pain, alternately, as we pick up speed. He drops both hands to squeeze my ass hard as I bite down on his neck, so hard it leaves marks. My turn to claim him this time.

Of course, he returns the favor, devouring my neck, my collarbone, the sharp edge where it meets my shoulder. My nails rake down his back and he arches deeper into me with a groan. He drops a finger to my clit, and I’m so hot I come almost at once, my muscles clenching hard around him, my whole body shaking. He finishes moments after, groaning that way I love, like he’s coming undone, all because of me. His hot seed spills down my leg when I slide off of him, and we both laugh when he tries to grab a napkin in time and fails to stop it from reaching the couch.

“We’ll have to try a safer spot next time,” I remark, and he smirks.

“There’s always the shower.”



#



“I’m never going to walk again,” I groan in his ear. The jerk only chuckles and runs a hand through my hair.

“That was my secret plan all along. Now you’ll never escape me.” He grins and kisses the top of my head, my nose, finally my lips, where he sinks in for a good, long kiss.

“I’d never want to,” I murmur when we finally part.

No one else has ever made me feel like this. After the couch, we made it to the shower to clean up, which naturally ended with me bent over holding my ankles as he pounded into me from behind, hot water steaming our skin. Cleanup didn’t work either, since an hour later we lay side by side in bed, still awake, and he slid under the covers to lick me messy all over again.

But it’s not just physical. Lying here together, his strong arms cradling me against him, I feel safe in a way I never have before. I belong here.

That scares me. If this is just a hookup for him, I can’t nurse emotions like this. It’ll end badly for both of us. I tilt my head up to meet his eyes again. “What are we doing?” I whisper.

I expect him to reply the way all the guys I’ve “dated” (if you can call it that) have. Don’t start that, or Just having fun, babe. Granted, those guys were all a lot closer to my age than him. But I know how guys think. What they want.

Then he gazes into my eyes and murmurs, “Starting something wonderful,” and my whole body shivers with a new kind of pleasure.

It doesn’t have a name yet. Boyfriend or partner or whatever. It doesn’t need a label yet, not right now. But he’s thinking the same way I am. Long term. That’s all I need to know.

I curl up on his chest, close my eyes, and drift off into the deepest sleep I’ve ever known.





Jack




Harper’s still sleeping when I leave for the office the next morning. I leave a note on the table along with a mug of coffee and a cup of overnight oats for her breakfast. I also leave a pamphlet that Dean Pierson asked me to pass out to my classes today, something I think Harper might love. It’s a new scholarship funded by the Society for the Advancement of British Poetry Studies—the recipient of the grant wins a year’s worth of fully paid tuition to any college of their choosing, and it’s open internationally, to any student from any country. She mentioned that her scholarship to Penn was one of the reasons she decided to attend the school, and she also mentioned wanting to move somewhere farther away. If she won this grant, she could study anywhere she wanted to, anywhere in the world.