My jaw clenches, my fist tightening around the pencil I’m holding so much that it snaps, splinters of wood and lead scattered across my desk. I brush them onto the floor and drop the broken pencil into the waste basket.
All weekend, I’ve barely left Quinn’s side. She called in sick to work at the restaurant and spent the entire two days with me, watching movies, cuddled on her couch. It’s amazing how something so simple and silly as watching a movie could be so perfect. My arm around her back, her head resting on my shoulder as we sit under a throw blanket.
Soon, the room fills with students and I begin my lecture, though for the better part, I think I’m paying as much attention as most of the room. None.
Some, I can tell are actually listening, but I notice a few zoning out, resting their chins on their hands as they slouch lazily in their seats, others engrossed in their phones, like the girl on the front row who has actually managed to find suitable clothing rather than the Daisy Duke get-up she wore on the first day. I even notice Quinn and Amy whispering between themselves and I do my best to ignore it. I get she’s probably doing to it get a reaction from me, because getting a reaction would mean having to look her way.
A stifled giggle comes from her direction and my eyes shoot to Quinn, finding her hand covering her mouth as she attempts to hide her laugh, but her eyes tell me the opposite. Her eyes say she wanted me to hear her, to draw my attention to her.
Fine.
She wants attention. Then I’ll give it to her.
“Miss Taylor,” I bark, startling her. Her eyes snap to mine, and behind that innocent face I see a devilish glint in her eye, because in this moment, she knows she’s won. She’s gotten what she wanted.
I see her straighten in her seat, trying to compose her face, but I can still make out the smirk that twitches at the corners of her mouth.
Fuck, her mouth…
Memories of kissing her invade my mind and my lips tingle with the need to kiss her again. My mouth watering with the need for another taste.
Shit. This is exactly why I tried so hard to avoid looking at her, because I knew I’d be distracted.
“Tell me, do you have a class straight after this?” I ask her.
“Um… No,” she says quietly.
“Good, then you won’t mind staying behind to enlighten me on what you find so amusing, unless you’d like to share it with the rest of the class?”
“No. Sorry,Professor.” The edge in her voice tells me she’s not sorry at all, it’s playful and mischievous.
She knows exactly what she’s doing. And the way she saidProfessor...Christ, that word had my dick twitching in my pants. My jaw clenches and I shoot her a warning look before continuing with the class, though I’m too wired to even care.
I’m counting down the minutes until I can have her in my arms and show her exactly what she does to me.
Once class is over and all of the students are out the door, Quinn gathers her things and makes her way down the steps and over to me. Today she’s wearing a skirt, which I can only imagine is for my benefit as all she ever usually wears are jeans. I trail my eyes over the miles and miles of long creamy legs as they disappear under the fabric of her skirt that ends just above her knees.
“You barely looked at me today,” she says as she reaches me, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
I tug her by the hand towards the corner of the room that is hidden in a curtain of darkness, away from the door and any prying eyes.
I turn to face her, my hands on her biceps. “It’s not because I didn’t want to, Quinn, becausefuckdid I want to. I forced myself not to look at you because I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop. Did you think I’d changed my mind about us?”
She drops her eyes to the ground and nods regretfully. “A little.”
I spin her around and press her against the wall, pinning her in place with my hips before crashing my mouth to hers. I lace my fingers through her own and pin her hands either side of her head so she can’t move as I claim her mouth roughly, my tongue thrusting into her mouth to stroke hers.
Without realising I’m doing it, my hips rock into hers and I can feel my hardening cock rub against her stomach, the friction from my jeans is pure torture, the ache becoming almost unbearable.
I drag my mouth from hers and trail kisses across her jaw and down the column of her neck. She tips her head back to allow me better access and I feel her shiver as I nip at her, my teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
“Dwight,” she says in a breathy moan.
“You wanted my attention… well you got it, baby,” I rasp against her skin.
I bring one of my hands down and trace my fingertips along the side of her body until it reaches her leg. My hand slides its way up the inside of her thigh, and I hear her gasp sharply and she takes a step to the side, widening her legs for me, as my hand disappears under her skirt.
The second my fingers drift over the fabric of her panties, she whimpers, the sound shooting straight to my cock. I dip my fingers inside the waistband, and I find her already wet for me.
