I gasp, barely catching my breath. He feels so fucking good against my clit as he continues to pinch and tug hard at my nipples.
I angle my face, and his full soft lips connect with mine. Our tongues instantly battle for dominance, our teeth biting each other’s lips.
I’m so distracted I don’t notice until I feel the knife’s sharp tip ever so lightly graze across my greedy clit, and I shatter. My body, shaking, finally finding the release it’s been yearning for.
Releasing my lips, he whispers against my skin.
“Good girl.”
* * *
By the timeI make it to class, my clothes are in order, but my lips are swollen, and my face is still flushed, riding the high of orgasm.
Miss Taylor’s icy stare displays her displeasure at my late arrival.
Wyatt’s smirk greets me as I take my seat in between him and Lev.
“You look a bit flushed, Love. Are you alright?”
I flip him off. I’m still a bit shocked at my behavior, but I don’t feel an ounce of guilt. For the first time in my life, I was being a teenager.
While frustrated and worried about my mother’s disappearance and the events that have me locked into some marriage contract. I finally am not concerned about social services coming in and separating us, I meet the women coming to help with my siblings this weekend, and I don’t have to worry about taking care of everything.
“You can stuf—”
Miss Taylor’s bark cuts off my reply. “Pop quiz,” she shouts from the front of the room. The groans filling the class do nothing to assuage her ire.
“When I said this class would not be easy, I meant what I said. If you do not think you have what it takes to make it through this class.” She pauses, for unnecessary dramatic effect, and points, “There’s the door.”
“What jumped up her ass and lodged itself there?” someone in the back of the room whispers, but not soft enough.
Miss Taylor’s face goes about four shades of red in the span of five seconds before inhaling. Her fake calm mask back in place.
I’d think something was off with this woman, but word has gotten around that the former Mrs. Douglas is in the midst of a nasty divorce, hence the name change. I’m guessing her mood is directly related to her soon-to-be ex-husband.
The rest of the class moves quickly after the quiz, but I don’t get to talk to Wy or Lev about our upcoming project until the last twenty minutes of class.
“Okay, what are we doing for this group project?” I ask.
“I say we do something about the disenfranchisement of our electoral college system,” Wyatt says, shocking the fuck out of me.
“Why do you look so surprised?” he asks, bemused. “Between gerrymandering and the reoccurring history of the popular vote not matching the electoral college, this is a paramount issue facing our country.”
Heat fills my face, embarrassed at the assumptions I’ve made. I apologize, “I guess I never thought it might be an issue you’d be interested in. I’m sorry for passing judgment.”
Seeing an opportunity to get a dig at me and support his friend, Lev adds his two cents, “Wyatt may seem like just a jokester, but there’s more than that to him. I figured you, of all people, would refrain from judging someone.”
I loathe this twatwaffle. He and Wes are in competition for the King Douche title.
Schooling my features, I say, “Well then, Wy, I look forward to seeing what platform you’ll run on one day.” I turn to him and offer a genuine smile.
With our project choice selected and a plan to meet later next week, I pack my stuff just as the bell signals the end of class.
Miss Taylor’s still in a mood, but far less angry than she was when class started. Wyatt drops a quick kiss on my cheek before heading down the hall, and I make my way to my locker.
Shay is waiting for me. When I’m close enough that she doesn’t need to shout, she asks, “Are we still on for tonight?”
“Of course! Someone has to see the new digs. Who better than my girl Shay? I need to drop off my apron and uniform at the diner first.” We hip bump each other once I reach her side.
