“Are you just going to edge me or are you?—”
I slam my mouth down on Jamie’s to interrupt him, my hand between his legs to squeeze his cock. I give into how good he smells, tastes, and feels, knowing I’m starting something I can’t possibly finish until later. I want to tie him to our bed, fuck his ass until he screams, and then do it again.
My pack is like a drug, and I’m an addict.
My tongue drags against Jamie’s, my piercing reminding him of how skilled I am with it as he moans. My lips devour his, my teeth nipping at his bottom lip as I stroke his cock outside of his jeans until I move away.
“What is that saying about playing with fire?” I tease him, picking up my discarded book bag. I don’t even remember dropping it.
“God, you’re such an asshole.” Jamie groans, adjusting his cock unapologetically. “Burn me baby! I’ll keep coming back for more.”
“Move it,” Tate says, rolling his eyes. “You’re such a goofball, and now we’re all going to roll into class looking like we want to fuck.”
“Is that a problem?” I ask, walking out the door.
“No, but I’m a sucker for how good you two smell. I may use one of your tight throats later in between classes,” Tate sighs, locking up.
We don’t live far from class, and it’s a nice day. Maybe it’ll help how tight my pants fit at the moment too, though that’s doubtful as my pack surrounds me on either side.
Oh well.
“I volunteer Jamie’s throat as tribute.” I chuckle darkly. “I love how fucked up his voice is after a rough face fucking.”
“You’re ganging up on me,” Jamie grumbles, his cheeks heating with desire.
“Poor baby. When you mouth off, you get punished,” I shrug, seeing the school up ahead. “We had a really good break.”
My voice is wistful, and Jamie throws his arm around my shoulders.
“This place reminds us that there’s more to life than mafia shit,” he says softly, aware there are people around. “I appreciate that you subject yourselves to the torture of papers, textbooks, and exams for me. You can dump your load into my ass anytime.”
The last of his words are spoken loudly enough for people to turn around, and I hide my smile with my hand as I rub my lips. Jamie doesn’t give a flying fuck what people think. I love that about him.
People naturally move away from us as we walk, my tattoos on display since my sleeves are pushed up. All around us, coats cover shivering bodies, while I just have a vest casually thrown over my long sleeved shirt.
I can tell our energy feels different from the typical college kid, and I don’t mind that. It keeps Jamie safe when he wants to go to a party alone or is studying late at night. Just our reputation for not taking any shit encases him in a special kind of bubble wrap money can’t buy.
I know he can defend himself because I taught him all he knows. I ride his ass about getting into the gun range to practice, he spars with me at home, along with everything he does for football. My man is fine as fuck.
“Stop staring at me,” Jamie says, chuckling.
“Can’t do that,” I grunt, opening the door for my pack. “I’m all riled up without an outlet. It’ll only get worse from here.”
“I hope you don’t need your voice for scrimmage later with your teammates,” Tate chimes in.
“I’ll sacrifice myself for a taste of your cum, Tater Tot,” Jamie murmurs. “I don’t need to talk to toss around a ball.”
I roll my eyes because even I know there’s more to college football than that. I may not enjoy watching it, but Tate and I will attend big games to support Jamie.
Sprinting up the stairs since we’re almost out of time, the three of us walk smoothly into the room and find a seat.
“You’re lucky he’s not here yet,” a male student mumbles under his breath.
Nodding to show I heard him, I pull out a notebook and drop it on the desk in an attempt to appear to be a decent student. I retain knowledge well, barely have to study, and it drives Jamie insane while he works his ass off.
College is his dream, not mine. I’m a co-dependent alpha who wants to spend time with him. Honestly, I don’t think I’d see him much if I wasn’t enrolled at Crown Well.
The door opens at a minute after nine, and our professor strides toward the podium. He’s wearing a brown suit jacket, anopen lavender button up shirt, and a pair of blue trousers I want to peel down his thighs.
