by W Winters
“I like the chase,” she admits and then reaches out and brushes her knuckles against my arm. “I bet you could catch me fast if I let you.”
I huff a laugh and smirk at her. “If you let me?”
“Yeah,” she says with a note of temptation in her voice, like she’s baiting me, and takes another drink.
“Allie Cat, you don’t fool me. You love this little cat and mouse game.”
“If I’m the cat, that means you’re the mouse?” she asks me and it’s only then that I realize what I said and how I said it. Maybe the whiskey’s already getting to me.
“No, no, you got that wrong. You’re my Allie Cat, but this game we’re playing, I’m the one that’s doing the chasing.”
“Are you now?” she says in a sultry voice as she raises the cup to her lips. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol buzzing through my veins or the way she says it that makes me second-guess myself. She lets out a feminine chuckle into her cup and smiles at me.
“I’m just playing with you, Dean,” she says sweetly and slides off the barstool. I widen my legs as she stands between them and pops up on her tiptoes to plant a small kiss on the side of my jaw. I close my eyes, enjoying the soft touch. My fingers slide down the curve of her waist. But she pulls away before I can get more of what I want.
Just as she does, I see Kev and Brant make their way into the room. Allie brushes her fingers along my knuckles and then takes a step back, rocking on her heels.
“You’re cute, but I have to go,” she says and tugs her hands away.
“Already?” I protest. She hasn’t even been here for an hour.
“I got shit to do,” she tells me, and I immediately bite back, “Yeah, me.”
She gets a laugh out of that, spearing her fingers through her hair and the floral fragrance of her shampoo drifts toward me as she turns on her heels. “I’ll see you on Monday,” she says innocently like I’m just going to watch her go.
“I can at least walk you out,” I tell her and stand up, reaching forward to snatch her by her waist.
She lets out a yelp with a gorgeous cadence that gets a few of the guys’ attention.
“I think I’m fine,” she tells me and grabs my wrist, moving my hand off her waist.
I can feel the crease on my forehead. “You don’t want me to even walk you out?” I ask her, but already I’m talking to her back.
She turns around to walk backward, teasing me some more. As she shakes her head, her hair falls over her shoulders, covering up that soft skin of hers. “Not tonight, Dean,” she says, and a soft pink blush covers her cheeks.
“I don’t know if this is a test, but that’s bullshit if it is,” I call after her, my feet planted firmly on the floor. Her sweet laugh follows her out of the room and I stay put.
I’ll chase her if she wants, but the fuck if I know what’s going through that girl’s mind.
Craziest thing though is that watching her leave only makes me want her more.
Chapter 11
Allison
* * *
My pen scribbles over the numbers, morphing them from identifiable figures to squares of black. I can’t pay attention to the lecture, not when I can feel Dean’s eyes on me.
I can hardly breathe as I close my eyes. I’m so close to the edge, to losing it and falling into a bottomless pit with no return. I can feel it now, how liberating it would be to just let go. Years of holding it in, years of doing nothing.
My eyes slowly open to the droning white noise of the professor’s lecture. It’s only then that I see I’ve broken the tip of the pen, the ink seeping into the pages and staining them.
Not just a few, but nearly all of them, maybe thirty or forty pages in this used-up notepad. Have I been sitting here that long?
“You okay?” the girl to my right asks. I recognize her face. She has a certain look about her, like someone you could easily trust. Her voice is soft too. She glances straight ahead and then back at me when I don’t answer, instead just staring at her and trying to snap out of it.
“Fine,” I manage to push out the word.
“I’m Angie, by the way,” the girl whispers as she brushes her curly blonde hair away from her face. Then she asks, “Do you need another pen?” She’s basically mouthing the words, so she doesn’t interrupt the lecture.
“Oh, no,” I wave her off, pushing all the thoughts away, “I’m fine, thanks.”
We share an easy smile like nothing’s happened. I suppose outwardly, nothing has. Just a broken pen and spilled ink on a notebook.
Faintly, I hear a desk somewhere behind me and to the left scratch across the floor. Dean. My body begs me to look back, but I don’t.
God, I want to. It’s different with him. A good different in some ways, but so bad in others.
He’s a distraction.
With clammy hands, I reach into my bag and pull out another pen. I rip off a single piece of paper and wrap up the broken pen, setting it to the side of the desk to toss on the way out.
That scratching sound catches my attention again, but this time Angie’s too. She looks over her shoulder and then back to the front of the room.
My neck is stiff, refusing to budge but painfully so. And all because I can feel his gaze. I know he’s watching and he’s going to want an answer. Or an explanation. Or maybe neither. Maybe if I just ignore him, he’ll leave me alone.
That’s what I should want, but it hurts to think of that possibility. Inexplicably so.
It’s funny how time went so slowly before. Now that I’m so very aware I need to make a decision; the class is over before I can let out a breath.
I need to force my body to relax and move normally so I’ll look just like everyone else. And the moment I do, I look behind me, arching my neck and succumbing to temptation.
Dean’s dark eyes stare back at me.
I don’t know how I thought for even a second he’d have looked away.
Maybe he has an obsession like I do.
All that anxiety, that fear, it all slips away as the clock ticks, and our gazes meet. And like I’m his reflection, his lips lift into a slow smile and mine follow.
Dean could be my personal heroin. And I want a hit. I want it hard and fast.
It terrifies me. But now, more than ever, I want that distraction. I want him to take me away from this. However he can. I know it’d be easy too. As easy as jotting down on a piece of paper that I want him and exactly where to find me. It would be all too easy.
Time resumes as I wrap my hand around the broken pen and toss it into the wastebasket at the front of the room. I don’t look up as everyone walks around me and past me heading for the exit, including Angie and her friendly smile. Adjusting my bra strap that slips down my shoulder and trying to keep my composure, I head back to my seat, only to peek up and see Dean waiting for me.
I fucking love it. I love how he makes his intentions clear and that he’s willing to give chase, to put himself out there. I love that he wants me.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks me. My first instinct is to joke, to flirt, to play it off.
If only he knew the truth.
He’s already too close. Too invested.
I should have stopped this before it started. A voice whispers, dark and deadly, but coaxing in its cadence, it has to happen. It’s meant to be this way.
“Nothing,” I answer him immediately, ignoring the voice and reaching down for my bag.
“I knew it,” he answers me with a cocky grin. “I knew there was literally nothing going on in there.”
“Fucking asshole,” I mutter as my smile broadens. I feel easy around him, natural… happy even. And that’s dangerous. His rough chuckle makes my entire body warm. Some places more than others.
“I can tell you what I was thinking,” he says as he leans closer, so close, I get a whiff of his cologne. It’s clean and crisp, but with a hint of woodsy musk that makes me lean in too.
“I bet I already know exactly what you were thi
nking,” I immediately retort, which only makes him scratch the stubble on his jaw, his smile ever-present.
“What do you think?” he asks me, and I arch a brow to scold him.
“Thoughts like that don’t belong in the classroom.”
“Where else are we going to find a desk?” he asks me, and I can’t help how my thighs clench and my chest and cheeks heat with a slow, burning blush.
I always have a comeback… but not this time.
“So, you want to go out?”
“No,” I laugh off his suggestion. “Do you want to go out?”
“I could go out,” he answers effortlessly. Like it doesn’t bother him in the least.
“I don’t know,” I answer him, feeling that unease crawling back into my skin. I forget when I’m with him and I can’t let that happen.
“You want a boyfriend or something?” Dean asks me, and I scoff at his response. “What?” he asks me. “I don’t know what the hell you want.”
“Neither do I,” I answer him and turn my back to him.
“The hell you don’t. You said you wanted me,” he persists. There’s a tone in his voice and a flicker of something in his eyes that I recognize. Something that makes my heart flicker. It’s a pain I know all too well. And I hate it. I want to take it away and with Dean it’d be so easy to do. He wants me, and I want him. But there’s so much more at stake.
A slow prickle of ice settles down my skin as I think about what’s going to happen. I shouldn’t lead him on like this. It’s wrong.
But I’ve been fucked up for a while now, and he’s just so tempting.
“You know I do,” I tell him, turning around to face him after zipping up my bookbag. I leave it behind me on the desk and my lower back grazes it as my ass hits the desk. “I’d love for you to fuck me raw. Right here on this desk.” I reach behind me to grip it and then nod my head to the side wall, “Or against the wall maybe.”
His expression darkens with lust. I watch as his eyes widen with amusement, but even more so, his pupils dilate with desire. Every second of silence is another degree of heat added between us.
I lean closer to him, feeling the tension rise as he adjusts his cock in his pants. His eyes don’t move from my lips as I whisper, “I imagine it all the time.” My fingertips play at the buttons on his shirt. Seeking consent, while luring him in.
“I bet you do too.” I tell him, staring into his dark eyes and wiling him to picture exactly what I’ve been dreaming about. “It would be bad for me though. You’ll fuck me and leave me.” At the last thought, my hands fall to my side. That’s not the reason why, but I’m not above using the logic to keep him away.
It takes him a moment to process my confession. Like he’s paralyzed from what I’ve done to him, and that gives me a thrill I can’t put into words.
“So, you do want a boyfriend?” he manages to say, and I have to cover my face with equal parts humor and exasperation. The lies make the hole I’m digging for myself that much deeper.
“Look, Dean,” I start to tell him it’s not going to happen. I swear I had every intention of cutting him off. But there’s a look in his eyes that makes my heart still just a beat too long, so I know it’s off. A look that heats the small space between us. A look that I’m addicted to.
“Yeah? I’m listening,” Dean says as he takes a half step closer, decreasing the distance between us. He towers over me, his broad shoulders blocking out everything else. I’m caught in his gaze, caught in the moment.
I’ll blame it all on that.
“If you want to fuck me, you should just show up to my house,” I tell him and slip the ripped corner of the paper in his hand.
The paper I’ve been scribbling on all class long.
The paper with my address on it.
Chapter 12
Dean
* * *
I don’t know how I wound up outside of Allie’s house with that scrap of paper in my pocket. It’s part of a cute little row of houses off the edge of campus with white picket fences and a one-way street.
The only excuse I’ve got for showing up the moment my last class was over, is that I didn’t have any blood my brain could use. It’s all in my dick and that’s sure as fuck the reason I ended up here, pushing the doorbell and acting like a damn puppy.
She said jump and I fucking jumped. But it’s for pussy… so I can’t beat myself up too much.
I shrug my shoulders to readjust my jacket as I hear her walking through the house. There’s a sheer curtain on the window and Allie pulls it back to look at me.
I only get a glimpse, but the look of surprise is something that makes me rethink what the hell I’m doing.
The door unlocks with a loud click and Allie opens it wide.
Any thoughts of turning around vanish. Her blouse hangs low and nearly covers up the cutoff jean shorts. It’s thin and almost transparent, a button-down white number that would look professional with slacks.
But in those shorts and a purple bra, it’s downright sinful.
“Dean,” she says my name and then leans into the door, showing off the curve of her waist as she juts out her hip. “I wasn’t expecting you, to be honest.”
“I wasn’t sure I was going to come either, but I thought you might want some company,” I tell her and readjust my dick in my jeans. She knows what I want, and I have no intention of hiding it.
I love how she blushes just slightly, moving her finger to her lower lip as she gives me this shy smile that doesn’t seem right on my Allie Cat.
“I guess I could use some,” she answers me and moves to the side to let me in, although the way she eyes me is more like that of a hunter and not the prey. Like she’s the one in control here.
She needs a little lesson.
“I want your mouth first,” I tell her as she closes the door. Her bottom lip drops as she turns around and she’s quiet, not answering me as I let my jacket slide off my shoulders and lay it on the back of a dining room chair.
The first floor is small, with a set of stairs on the left, an eat-in kitchen to the right and a cozy living room with a sofa. Right in front of us are a loveseat and a TV stand. The sunshine filtering through the open blinds on her sliding doors is the only light in the place. I take a quick look around, wondering what she was up to before I came in, but she distracts me, letting out a small hum of appreciation.
“Is that so?” she asks, and I don’t answer her. There’s a teasing lilt in her voice that turns me on. It’s a hint that she can take more. It suggests I’m not a man who can handle her.
What’s more? She’s letting me get away with pushing her. And I fucking love it. It only makes me want to push her harder.
She follows me in and just watches as I take off my shirt, tossing it on top of my jacket. I keep walking, moving to the window to shut the blinds and darkening the small living room. I want the lights on. I need to see this. Every. Fucking. Bit of it.
“Yeah, mouth and then your cunt,” I tell her confidently, flicking on a light switch and watching how she stalks toward me, those wide hips rocking back and forth and taunting me. My dick gets harder just watching her.
“You gonna keep teasing me, Allie Cat?” I love how her breathing is coming out heavier. A smirk kicks my lips up and then I lick them, slowly. Her eyes follow my movement and a shiver runs down her body. “I know you will. You love teasing me,” I tell her with confidence and her gaze meets mine, narrowing as she decides what she wants to admit.
“Is that so?” she asks me in a sultry voice and takes a step back as I take a step forward. The half-smile widens.
“No more,” I say and keep my voice stern. “You can tease me again tomorrow, but right now I’m done playing.” My heart hammers hard in my chest, knowing how pushy I’m being. But Allie’s a woman who wants to be pushed.
“Tell me you don’t want me right now,” I offer her. “Tell me you don’t want me to sink deep into you and fuck you how you deserve to be fucked… and I’ll leave
.”
My heart thrums, hating that I’ve given her an out. But I know Allie; I know what she wants, and I can give it to her better than any other man.
“I’m not a liar, Dean,” she says quietly, and I watch as she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah, I do.”
“Say it.”
“I want you. I want every inch of you.”
“Good,” I say and start to lean forward, to kiss those plump lips of hers, but she surprises me, dropping to her knees.
She doesn’t say anything as she unbuckles my pants and I let her lead… for now.
A little give, and a little take.
Her small hands pull my jeans down in a single tug and my thick cock juts out right in front of her face. A small gasp slips from her lips and I love how her eyes widen. I stroke my dick once, rubbing the precum already leaking out at the thought of her mouth on me over the head.
Before I can even take my hand away, she takes a quick lick of my head, her tongue slipping along the slit and making me hiss.
Her eyes flash to mine as she wraps her lips around the head of my cock and sucks.
I don’t hold back the groan from deep in the back of my throat. She deserves to know just how good she makes me feel. My fingers tease her hair as she sucks me down, hollowing her cheeks and working my dick like a pro.
It’s mesmerizing to watch her practically worshiping my cock with that sassy mouth of hers. I’ve thought about it every fucking night since I first saw her.
About fucking time, I have her where I want her. I try to ignore the thoughts running through my head. The ones telling me this is a one-time thing. I already know I want more, and I refuse to let her want anything other than more of me when this is through.
She moans on my cock and it sends a tingle up my spine. Fuck, she’s even better than I thought she’d be.
I let her have her fun for a minute, and then I shove myself to the back of her throat. Again, and again, and again. “Fuck,” I groan. My blunt nails dig into the back of her head as my toes curl and my eyes shut tight. She feels too fucking good. “I’m going to cum,” I barely get out through my clenched teeth.
