With my towel secured around my waist, I walk over to my locker and pull it open.
That’s when I see them on the top shelf, directly at my eye level.
My gloves.
The ones I wore last night.
The ones that I fucked Laura with while she gasped my name and shook against the boards.
Shit.
I adjust the towel tighter around my waist, trying to hide the way my cock twitches at the memory, but it doesn’t stop the heat crawling up my spine as every detail comes to the forefront.
The way she looked at me like she wanted me to ruin her…
The way she cried out when I curled my fingers inside her…
How fucking tight she was around the glove…
And if I don’t stop replaying this shit right now, it’s going to be hard to walk out of here without everyone seeing.
I snatch the gloves, turn them over in my hands, and I know with absolute certainty that I’m never going to wash these babies. They’re coming home with me and going in a drawer somewhere safe as a reminder that she’s mine.
Finally fucking mine.
The thought hits me harder than I expect, and I actually have to take a second to process it.
Inhale.
Let’s pretend I’m not two seconds from losing it over a pair of gloves.
I stuff the gloves in my bag and pull my phone out, checking to see if Laura sent me a message.
Nothing.
Just the text I sent her this morning:
Scotty:Good luck today, Princess. You’re going to be incredible.
I didn’t expect a response from her, but I guess I just wanted a hint into how she’s feeling. She’s probably a nervous wreck, running through her routine in her head, second-guessing everything, which is exactly why I want to be there.
To support her…like a boyfriend would.
Yeah, I know we haven’t technically had that ‘talk’ yet, but Laura doesn’t seem like the kind of girl that would let just anyone suck on her nipples while finger-fucking her senseless with gloves. We’re together, she just hasn’t had the time to admit it to herself yet.
I yank on my jeans and hoodie, not bothering with anything else, grateful Coach McKibbon let me leave early without asking questions. He probably felt sorry for me when he saw the dumbass look on my face. Hard to look normal when all I’m thinking about is Laura.
Honestly, I wouldn’t be shocked if Professor Foster told him how I begged her to keep Laura’s grade tied to mine so she wouldn’t lose credits after the birthday disaster. I worked overtime to make sure we held that A, even after she dropped out.
Would definitely explain the way he was staring at me today.
Throwing the bag over my shoulder, I step into the hallway and freeze.
Fuck.
When I hear the unmistakable sound of Jerry talking to someone outside, I know I’m in trouble.
No. They can’t be here. Not today.
