by Blake, Remy
Cole hands me my coffee, disrupting me from my musings. We walk on over to Miles, who is furiously typing on his keyboard.
“Hey,” I greet. “What are you doing?”
“Just tying up loose ends.”
Miles is getting ready to start a new job at Alexandria University, but he’s been making sure the transition for his students is as smooth as possible. He doesn’t really owe it to anyone, especially Billings, to do that, but underneath the gruff exterior, his heart’s always in the right place.
“Where have you been?” he asks. “Cole tells me you’ve been even busier than me lately.”
I side-eye Cole and he just shrugs.
“Billings has been piling on the workload for the department and I’ve had to make sure all my staff are on board and know what they’re doing.” It’s a half truth, but they both buy it. “If I ride their asses hard enough and micromanage through the changes, they won’t fuck up and I won’t be left to clean up their mess.”
“Such a pleasant time for your department,” Cole teases.
“They like me,” I protest. “Well, they like me enough for us to function as a team.”
“That’s about as much as we like you,” Miles adds.
“Please,” I scoff. “It’s obvious you two worry about me when I’m not around.”
“More like Cruz made us promise to keep you safe and then told us about his samurai sword collection.”
I stop mid-sip and laugh, remembering the night I introduced Cruz to all my friends. Having him in my space changed my mood drastically, reminding me it doesn’t always have to be gray skies and bleak moods. My family might be far away, but they’re not impossible to reach.
If I need them, they’ll come running. And just like they need me to stay here for them, I will.
“I’d like to say he’s all talk and no action, but that would be a total lie,” I supply.
“Oh, we know, he showed us pictures,” Miles adds.
“I had my first boyfriend when I was sixteen. It was a miracle, but by this time Cruz was no longer at school with me. It didn’t matter, though. When he found out that we were thinking about having sex, he came to school–”
“Let me guess,” Miles interrupts. “Pushed him up against a locker and threatened to hit him.”
“You’ve got to give Cruz a little credit,” I say. “He followed me and my boyfriend for a week. Sat on the playground, walked us home, ate lunch with us. I couldn’t even tell you how he was allowed at school with me all the time, but he was basically stalking us.”
Miles and Cole look amused, their relationships with their own sisters very different.
“But by the end of the week, everybody knew not to try and get into my pants. It was fucking humiliating, and he didn’t have to touch a single hair on poor Marco’s head.”
The three of us fall into fits of laughter, sharing stories and shooting the shit for the very first time in a long time when my cell rings. I see Connor’s name on the screen and wonder if Billings has already spoken to him.
I silence it and let it go to voicemail, a busy cafe not the place to be speaking about it.
“You can get that,” Cole says, pointing at my now quiet phone.
“It’s okay.”
When a message comes through, straight after he pretends to launch for my phone, but I beat him to it.
“You’re acting a little suspicious there, Beauty.”
Sticking my phone in my bag, I grab the handles and stand up. “Who needs brothers when I have you two meddling in my business?”
“Cruz’s orders,” Miles mocks.
I tip my head in Cole’s direction. “Thanks for the coffee.” Then I glance back at Miles. “Good luck with the move.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Cole taunts. “Miles has friends that are really good at finding stuff out.”
I turn away from them and give them a quick wave over my head. As soon as I step outside, I stick my hand in my bag and retrieve my phone. I swipe at the notification, and the confirmation that Connor now knows is sitting on my screen.
Connor: No more tutoring??
Connor: Why won’t you answer??
Connor: Meet me at your office.
23
Connor
I’m trying not to let the concern consume me as I wait for Harper at her office door. Thankfully, it’s not uncommon for students to hang around waiting for professors, but even if it was, at this point I don’t think I’d care.
When Dean Billings called me into his office, an overwhelming amount of fear surged through me. For a split second, I thought he knew about Harper and me, and all of a sudden, I wasn’t confident in what our plan of attack was supposed to be.
I got scared, and that went against everything I felt for Harper. It was cowardly, and for that split second when Billings told me I would no longer be required to attend tutoring sessions, I was relieved.
Until I wasn’t.
I panicked not knowing what that meant, or the reason for the change. When he said it was at Harper’s request, I was sure this was her way of ending things.
The sound of heels clicking against tiles has me lifting my gaze. Strutting down the corridor, Harper commands the attention of every person around her. She wears her confidence like an extra layer of clothes, visible for all to see.
Pushing off the wall, I straighten my back and stand tall to meet her. Close enough for me to smell her intoxicating scent, my anger forms into need and I wait patiently as she unlocks the door.
When we step inside, I waste no time pushing it closed and pressing her up against it.
“Are we okay?” I rasp, my lips finding their way to her exposed neck and up to her mouth. She answers me in a sweet, soft, slow kiss.
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
I rear my head back, so I can look at her. “Billings said you wanted out of tutoring.”
“Nice to know he’s got my back,” she says sarcastically. “But yeah, I told him we didn’t need it anymore.”
I look at her expectantly, hoping she’ll tell me what it is that’s going on inside that pretty head of hers. “It’s not a big deal,” she supplies. “I just wanted to limit the sneaking around at school.”
She pushes against me until we’re no longer in the doorway, and heads to her desk. “I don’t want to come here three nights a week just so we can end up fucking on my desk. That’s not me teaching and that’s not you learning.” I give her a teasing smirk and she rolls her eyes. “Seriously, I’m just trying to limit our chances of getting caught, and if we continue with these lessons, we’ll get sloppy.”
I nod in agreement. “It’s not like we can’t continue them at my place.”
“You really love it when I’m there, don’t you?”
“I don’t know why you make it out like you don’t,” I quip.
A light laugh leaves her mouth. “It’s not that at all.”
“Then?”
“Nothing,” she concedes. “I’ll come to your place, but as for tutoring, you don’t need it anymore. You’re doing well. And if you study hard before finals, I know you’ll pass.”
I stalk over to her, placing my hands on her hips. “You sound very confident.”
“There are students doing a lot worse in that class. They don’t all have the likings of daddy dearest breathing down their necks,” she says. “And I know you realize what’s at stake if you fail. I’m sure that’s enough of an incentive for you.”
“You’re right,” I respond a little more seriously. “I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me fail.”
“Good.” Harper places a hand on my cheek and I lean into it. “I’m just trying to be careful,” she explains.
“He’s probably going to tell my dad,” I warn.
“Well, he can call me. And just like I said to Billings, I don’t think you need the sessions.” She gestures between us. “Our relationship aside, I do think you’ve gotten a better handle on the content.”
“The one-on-one attention has definitely helped.”
“Is that so?”
“In fact, I think we need one more lesson in here for old time’s sake”
Her brown eyes smolder at my insinuation, and I know I’ve got her twisted up in anticipation. “Take your skirt off for me and sit up on the desk.”
Harper raises an eyebrow at me. “So, I’m supposed to do as you say. Just like that?”
I look away from her and make the short trip to the door, ensuring it’s locked. When I turn back, I focus my attention on the temptress who’s leaning on her desk. Her skirt still on.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Ms. Martínez.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She deliberately fusses with her skirt. “I don’t have a reason to take it off.”
“Is that right? Well, how am I supposed to get to your sweet pussy with your clothes still on?”
She plays it off with a shrug, as if my needs are so different to hers. Right in front of her, I crouch down, my head in perfect line with where I want it to be.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her breathing becoming a little more rapid.
I grip the hem of her skirt and begin to bunch it up her body. One slow inch at a time, more of her skin becomes exposed. The lightest tremor rushes through her and I delight in being the one to make it happen. It doesn’t matter how many times I taste her or touch her, it doesn’t compare to the thrill of knowing I’m the only one that gets to do it.
With her skirt now sitting in the middle of her stomach, I look up and give her a salacious grin. There’s nothing like seeing her with her clothes on and knowing she still feels completely naked.
A little wet patch on her panties catches my eye. I look up to her flushed face, a smirk playing on my lips. “Every time you try to play hard to get,” I run my fingers up and down her covered slit, “this pretty little thing gives you away.”
She bites on her bottom lip, determined not to voice her desperation. Slipping my fingers into the sides of her thong, I drag them down her long, lean legs.
With her heels still on, and pussy bare, it’s just another fulfilled fantasy I can add to my list.
“My dick is so hard right now,” I groan. “You’re going to have to make it up to me really good tonight.”
She runs her fingers through my hair and tugs at the short strands. “I think I’ll need to see you if you can deliver first.”
“Step out of these,” I demand. Surprisingly, she does so with ease. The second she’s no longer restrained by clothing, I grip the back of her thighs and rise with her in my hold. Seating her on the edge of the desk, I hold her gaze while I spread her legs. “I’m going to miss fucking you in here.”
She leans in and presses her lips to mine. “Don’t worry, I think about it every time I’m in here.”
“It’s good to know I’m leaving my mark. Making it hard for you to forget me.” I slowly dip a finger inside her, and her small gasp echoes around the room.
“No matter how hard I tried, I don’t think I could.”
Her honesty makes my dick impossibly hard and my chest tighten. The change between us has been a whirlwind, but it feels exactly the way it should be. She’s mine and I’m hers. The only problem is, I need to work out where we go from here.
We’re at the mercy of too many external circumstances, and that doesn’t sit well with me. We’ve been lucky not to get caught, but it’s inevitable. And even if we don’t, how much longer are we going to keep our relationship a secret?
It’s bad enough that I have to censor every conversation with my friends, but I’ve made my grandparents swear to keep their mouths shut, and I’m sick of not being able to show off my woman.
I want us to do things together, I want to show her places I love going. I want her to be able to take me where she wants and be able to call me when she needs to. I don’t want to be the behind-closed-doors-boyfriend for too much longer.
Grabbing my face, she plunges her tongue inside my mouth as my finger keeps up its delicious pace. When we move apart, I drag the wet digit out of her cunt and pop it between her lips. Just as she would a lollipop, her tongue works its way around my finger before she gives it a seductive suck.
“Do you taste good?” I ask.
She sucks a little harder in response. Slipping my finger from her mouth, I give her a quick peck and lower myself to the ground.
On my knees, I take in the beautiful sight before me; glistening and pink. If I’m not inside her, my mouth on her enticing pussy is the next best thing.
I lay kisses on the inside of her thigh, making my way to her center. At my tongue’s first swipe, she grabs the back of my head, pressing me into her.
I lap up the sweet taste, teasing and taunting her clit. Sucking, biting, tasting, she slowly begins to rock her hips into my face.
“Fuck, yes,” she hisses. “Right there.”
Her words spur me on, the pace now picking up. Wanting to push her to the brink, I glide two digits into her, fucking her with both my tongue and my fingers.
Hitting just the right spot, I feel her thighs tremble around my face. She pulls my hair tighter before her body coils within itself, desperate for release.
A long moan leaves her mouth as her orgasm drenches my tongue.
Her body deflates almost instantly and I almost want to pat myself on the back for a job well done.
I lean back on my haunches and watch her come down from the high; my aching dick a torturous reminder of what it’s like to constantly be in the presence of someone so captivating.
Grabbing her thong, I slip it over her feet and up to her knees. Standing up, I grab her hands and pull her up from the desk. The mood shifts. Warmer. Softer.
“You okay, Bombón?” I ask.
“Never better,” she says with a sigh. Once she hops off the desk and fixes up her clothes, she wraps her hands around my neck and holds my stare. “You know I like you for more than how well you can get me off, right?”
Just like earlier, her reassurances are exactly what I need to keep going.
“Thank you for letting me know.”
I kiss her on the forehead, thinking to myself. This can’t end. If we feel this way, and it feels so good, then we have to find a way to make it work, right?
24
Harper
Hurrying down the steps of Connor’s Brownstone, my usual walk of shame in yesterday’s clothes is starting to get really old. He’s offered a million times to make space in his wardrobe for me, but moving things in seems like a step my job and our circumstances just can’t allow. I’m very much aware this isn’t just a tryst with my student anymore, and that my feelings for Connor are above serious and very much in the potentially falling territory. But my only problem is, I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know how to take the next step, or what the next step would even mean for us.
I’m just about to check how far my Uber is when a town car pulls up to the sidewalk. I look around to see if there’s anybody around me who would be waiting for it, but the street still hasn’t woken up yet.
I watch as the tinted window slowly rolls down. A salt and pepper colored head of hair becomes visible first. Features begin to morph together till I’m staring at none other than Connor McAdam Sr.
D.C. royalty stares back at me, and the churn in my stomach tells me he knows exactly who I am
“Ms. Martínez,” he calls out, his condescending tone hard to miss.
“Mr McAdams.”
“Oh good, you know who I am. So now we can skip introductions.”
I stand there waiting, with no idea what I’m supposed to do next.
“Get in the car, Ms. Martínez.”
“Excuse me?” I look around, wondering if anybody is watching and whether or not I should run back up to Connor’s place.
“Get in the car, unless you want the whole sidewalk to hear about you sleeping with your student.”
I
nstinct told me it was coming, but the words still felt like a hard slap across my face when he said them.
His one statement had reduced what Connor and I have to something wrong and dirty. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream, but just as Connor has often told me about his father, the only thing you can do is play along.
I school my features and walk around the nose of the car. Slipping into the opposite side, I let my back rest on the closed door trying to put as much distance between us as possible.
“I’m glad you used your common sense and decided to get in the car.”
“Is there something I can help you with?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm and steady.
“Actually, today is the day I can help you.” He hands me a yellow dossier and my face furrows in confusion.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and see. I don’t want to ruin the surprise.” His voice is like nails on a chalkboard, my body cringing with every single thing he says.
I open the folder and find a stack of papers. There are spreadsheets, bank statements, pay slips, and photos of my house with Anthony and Mom’s business.
“How do you have all this?” I refuse to look up at him, refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing he just pulled out the one card I will fold for.
“What a silly question. Maybe in between all the sex, Connor forgot to tell you how much money I really have. One of the best law firms in the country didn’t hurt my cause either.”
I whip my head up and stare him down with everything I have. “What do you want?”
“For you to leave my son, of course.”
“And what does this,” I shake the papers at him, “have to do with that?”
“Let’s spell things out, shall we?” He straightens his tie, as if he’s about to give his closing argument in court. “You were engaged to Mr. Anthony Denton, and when you announced you wanted to buy a house, your generous mother said she’d help you, just like she helped your brothers get their business loan.”
The amount of depth there is to his story makes the hairs on the back of my neck prick up. There’s absolutely nothing he doesn’t know about me. He’s adamant to see the back of me and he won’t stop until I’m gone.
