“Yeah. He’s why I transferred here.”
I study his expression, my gaze settling on his lips for longer than it should, but Dax lets me. Maybe because he’s getting used to my weird.
“What are you doing after class?” I ask, my tone more intense than intended.
“I usually grab lunch now. I have another class in about an hour.”
“Don’t get lunch. Not today. Once you get dressed, meet me at the library.”
His gaze wavers. “Okay… Is this a fourth-floor thing?” That part of the library is infamous for student hookups because of its boring tomes collection—at least, boring for anyone not studying law.
“Yes.” I wait for him to tell me to fuck off, which is probably what he should do, but he shrugs.
“Cool. See you there.”
“What?” I’m taken aback. Why the fuck is he going along with this?
“I’ll be there in ten.”
“Um, okay.”
Everything in me tells me now’s the time to go, but we’re still standing there in silence, looking at each other, until Dax’s lips purse and he smiles.
“It’s okay, Miles. You can do your running-off thing now.”
I nod before bolting, hurrying out the door, toward the library.
This is such a shitty idea. Maybe the worst you’ve ever had.
But that doesn’t keep me from winding up on the fourth floor of the library, near the bathrooms, checking my phone. I’m maybe a little too annoyed when it’s only been nine minutes.
What am I even thinking? He’s not gonna come up here to do anything with me after what an ass I’ve been to him. This is probably his way of getting back at me.
Fair enough. Nice play, Dax.
Accepting that doesn’t seem to do anything because I’m still pissed at him. I start for the double doors to the stairs when I hear the handle on the other side, and there’s Dax. I stop in place as that familiar smirk plays across his lips, and he does that adorable wave thing.
I just need to get this over with, so I push through the bathroom door, and he follows.
We’ve come at a good time because no one else is here. I hurry into one of the stalls, and he steps in with me, closing it behind us.
This shouldn’t be strange. I’ve messed around with plenty of people in here. I’m sure he has too, but this isn’t like that…because no one else ever had this effect on me.
I cup my hand against his throat, and Dax moves with me as I guide him to the stall door. He’s so willing to go along with all this, even without having a clue what we’re in here for. Well, I guess he has his own ideas about that.
I study his mouth, wondering if what happened at the house was a one-off, something we’ll never be able to replicate. Maybe, but I have to know.
He searches my face, as if looking for clues about what I’ll do next, so I just go for it, no build-up and with such force that our jaws clash. We share open-mouthed kisses, and I’m surprised by how quickly we’ve picked up each other’s rhythm, something that’s probably a big credit to Dax’s talents. I tease my tongue against his, and he eagerly reciprocates. Fuck, he feels good.
And there it is again—that quiet in the back of my mind.
Our kisses become more feral, and Dax cups my face, pulling me closer, then pushing with his chest until I’m against the stall. His hand slides up my crotch, feeling how hard he’s gotten me.
“You feel fucking amazing,” I confess into his mouth as I revel in the sensations he’s sparking through me.
“If you think my mouth is good at this, wait until you see what else it can do.”
I stop kissing him, and as I assess his face, he runs his bottom lip against mine.
