“Noted,” Darius says with a nod.
Christine leaves, carefully closing the door behind her, and we’re alone.
“She really hates me, doesn’t she?” He leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek.
“Hate is a strong word.” I lean into his lips, their warmth permeating my skin. “Just be patient. It’s going to take time.”
Darius nods and leans back in his chair. “I’ll just keep showing up.”
I glance over at the closed door, the thin window reminding me anyone could walk by and see us. My classroom is on the second floor, so only the squirrels and birds in the tree outside can see in, but even before the day has started, staff are wandering the halls.
“Hold that thought,” I say, standing.
I walk over to the door, throw the lock, and pull the tiny shade down. When I turn around, Darius’s pupils blow wide as he focuses on my face. I return to the chair, straddling him, and wrapping my fingers around the back of his head.
“You really don’t leave the house without a baseball cap, do you?”
“Nope. Only take it off . . .”
“In bed.” I ghost my lips over his, and his minty breath fills my nostrils.
“And to shower.” His voice is soft, barely audible.
Darius tips his head forward and captures my mouth with his. I pull him closer, my thumb brushing the plastic clasp of his hat as our tongues tangle. He lets out a soft moan—and that, right there, undoes me. That sliver of vulnerability. Him giving in to the kiss. To me. I realize I’m grinding against him slightly—and he’s clearly just as affected.
“Coach.” I pause the kiss, but leave my lips near his. “If my class weren’t arriving in five minutes, I’d be taking care of this.”
I reach back with a hand and run my fingers over his tented track pants. Through the thin fabric, my thumb catches the head and adds a little pressure. Darius throwshis head back, exhaling, and I lean over and kiss his neck. He’s freshly showered, and between his mountain spring freshness and rock-hard cock, my own pants have become a little snug.
Our fun is interrupted by the two-minute bell, and I pull back. But Darius takes my hands, holding me in place.
“Harry, will you go on another date with me?”
“The finals are this weekend.” I give his hands a little squeeze. “I’m expecting we’ll share a room again.”
“Damn right we will, but I can’t wait all week.” He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Are we still on for the Mariners game on Wednesday night?”
“An opportunity to gape at sailors? What exactly are we watching them do? Push around some crates on a shipping container? Yell ‘Aye Aye Captain’ while walking the plank?”
“Uh, no . . . it’s a hockey game.”
“Oh, so they stick it to each other and puck around the ice? Got it.”
“You’re fucking adorable.” He takes my face in his hands.
“Wednesday night. Hmm. I had very important plans to stay home and read.”
“Harry, please. Come with me.”
“Dinner first?”
“I’ll take you for wings. Give you the full experience.” He grins, looking so pleased with himself.
“Alright, fine. But if anyone asks, I’m going for the wings, not the sports.”
“Sure, Peterson. Whatever you say.”
I stand and extend my hand to him, helping him to his feet. As he rises, he leans in, pressing a soft peck to my cheek. It’s quick, but it lingers in the air between us as he turns toward the door, a quiet smile playing on his lips.
