The worst part was that she was right. About all of it. I was terrified, not just of the professional consequences, but of the way Archer made me feel. Like I was alive again instead of just going through the motions of existence.
But that didn’t make pursuing him any less dangerous. Or any less impossible.
I glanced at the clock on my wall. Practice was tomorrow afternoon, and I’d have to face him whether I was ready or not. The smart thing would be to treat him like any other student. Professional. Distant. Completely impersonal.
The problem was, every time I closed my eyes, I could still feel his body against mine. This was going to be a disaster.
I forced myself to get up and take a shower, hoping the hot water would wash away some of my anxiety along with the funk I’d been marinating in for the past two days. It didn’t work. If anything, the solitude gave my mind more room to wander, conjuring up increasingly vivid memories of Archer’s skin against mine, the way he’d responded to my touch, the little sounds he’d made when I’d?—
“Stop,” I said aloud, pressing my forehead against the shower tiles. “Just fucking stop.”
But my body wasn’t listening. I was already half-hard just from thinking about him, and the knowledge that I’d see him again tomorrow was doing nothing to help my situation. For a moment I resisted the thought of taking care of it right then and there. And then, I gave in. At least if I jerked off now, I might be less likely to get a hard-on in my fencing suit tomorrow when I was coaching.
I wrapped my hand around my cock, giving it a few lazy strokes to see if I was really interested. My dick stiffened immediately, the head especially sensitive as I closed my eyes and let out a soft groan. Images flashed through my head of Archer pressed up against a brick wall, his cheeks spread as my cock stretched him open.
I stroked myself faster, remembering the tight heat of his ass, the way he’d begged me to fuck him harder. Christ, the sounds he’d made when I’d hit that perfect spot inside him, the way his whole body had trembled when he came...
I bit back a groan as I came hard, spilling over my hand and onto the shower floor. For a moment I just stood there, breathing hard and feeling marginally more human. At least now I might be able to get through practice tomorrow without embarrassing myself.
But as the post-orgasmic clarity hit, I realized jerking off to thoughts of my student hadn’t actually solved any of my problems. If anything, it had just reminded me how badly I wanted him again.
I finished my shower and got dressed, trying to focus on preparing for tomorrow’s practice instead of dwelling on impossible fantasies. I pulled out my coaching notes and started reviewing the team roster, forcing myself to think about drills and conditioning instead of blue eyes and perfect asses.
Archer Quinn. Team Captain. Exceptional skill level. Needs work on...
I stared at the page, my pen hovering over the paper. What did Archer need to work on? His technique was flawless, his tactical awareness beyond his years. The only thing he needed to work on was staying the hell away from me before I did something that would destroy both our lives.
I tossed the notebook aside and poured myself a generous glass of bourbon. Maybe if I was slightly drunk tomorrow, I’d beless likely to notice the way his fencing whites hugged his body, or the graceful way he moved across the salle, or the determined set of his jaw when he was concentrating.
Or maybe I’d just make an even bigger fool of myself.
The bourbon burned going down, but it didn’t do much to quiet the chaos in my head. I was well and truly fucked, and not in the way I wanted to be.
Chapter 10
Archer
“I’d like to speak to Dean Thornfield, please,” I said the moment I stepped up to the front desk in the admin building. “If he’s in. It’ll only take a minute.”
“Can I ask what it’s about?” the secretary asked, hardly glancing up at me.
“It’s a personal matter,” I replied, keeping my reasoning simple. “My name is Archer Quinn.”
The secretary looked up, her eyes going wide. The Quinn name, despite how much I hated it, did hold weight at Widdershins Academy. My father was one of their biggest donors and, at one point, had been part of the school board.
“Of course, Mr. Quinn,” she said, getting up from her desk. “I’ll just let him know you’re here.”
“Thank you very much,” I nodded.
I watched her waddle down the hallway, her satyr hoofs clacking on the marble floor as she went. As soon as she was out of sight, I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly to steady myself.
For nearly three days I’d been thinking about whether I was going to take Amelia’s advice. She wanted me to rebel, to stick it to our parents and their pretentious lifestyle by going out andgetting laid with a vampire professor. At first the idea seemed crazy. But the more I thought about it, the more it grew on me.
My parents couldn’t know what I was doing and Valen, in the grand scheme of things, had a lot more to lose than I did by spilling our secret. Amelia wasn’t going to tell them either, that was for sure. And Lila, Valen’s sister, didn’t seem like the type to spill the beans either. So really, as long I was careful, there should be no reason why Valen couldn’t blow my back out for the rest of the year. Then, when I graduated, we’d go our separate ways with some good memories in tow and our secret intact. It was a win-win situation as far as I could see.
But Valen, I knew, needed convincing. There was still heat in his gaze. He wanted to fuck me again. So I just had to make him understand that I wasn’t going to turn him in. Once he knew that, I was sure he’d give in.
I just had to get close to him first. Alone. And for that, I needed Dean Thornfield.
