“So, do you finally understand the Allapattah glitches?” asks the only member of my study group who volunteered to help me figure out what the fuck Allapattah glitches are. For the past fifteen minutes, he’s been drawing a bunch of shit on the study room’s board, and it still doesn’t make any sense to me. Despite how much I’ve been studying, I can’t get this through my head. We spent all of last week studying in one of the rooms in the law school, and everyone else seems to be getting it but me. Which is why today, I asked Stuart to come by my building to help me understand.
“Ahh, not really,” I answer, frustrated more with myself than anything else. “Civil Procedure didn’t seem as difficult while we were taking the class. Why does it feel impossible now?” I’m going to fail this exam unless I have a breakthrough. I should’ve dedicated more time to this instead of allowing myself to get distracted.
“That’s normal. Not everything made sense to me either. Let’s run it again,” he says as he goes to the blackboard. I see movement from the corner of my eye and turn to my right. A group of four people walk into the room adjacent to ours—the same one I found myself in with Ethan last week.
“What do you understand so far?” Stuart asks me as he begins to redraw a diagram the professor has drawn many times.
“I remember that the purpose is to prevent—”
The noise from the neighboring group interrupts me. I turn, scowling, when I see the reason for the ruckus: Ethan has arrived.
I watch as two of the girls in the group linger. He hugs each of them, and I can imagine them melting in his embrace. Jealousy runs through me, white hot and razor sharp.
“You there, Gracelynn?” Stuart asks and I turn to him.
“Ah, yeah… Where were we? Sorry. I zoned out.”
“You were telling me what the Allapattah case is trying to fix.”
“Oh yeah, some jurisdictional issues.”
“Exactly, so let’s start this over,” he says, erasing the board so we can start again. As Stuart begins his mini lecture, my cell phone pings with a new message.
Hey, Sexy.
I don’t recognize the number. I consider ignoring it, but as I look back at Stuart and his diagrams, I figure I need the distraction.
I’m sorry, who is this?
Three little dots show up on the screen, telling me the person is typing.
The same person whose name you couldn’t stop screaming a few weeks ago.
My head snaps to the right, finding Ethan staring at me with a smirk on his oh-so-perfect mouth. My cheeks flush.
I was not screaming your name.
Really? You weren’t screaming my name as I ate you out? You weren’t panting my name as I fucked you from behind and gave you the best orgasm you’ve ever had?
I clear my throat as I feel my pulse increase. My panties are instantly wet as I remember how he took control of my body.
“So, yes, that’s basically the first glitch. You get it?” Stuart asks, bringing my attention back to him.
“Yes, that makes sense,” I lie because the poor guy has tried to explain it way too many times.
I’m studying.
Your point?
Let me concentrate. You’ve distracted me enough already.
So, you’re saying I’m distracting?
I glare at him. He looks right back at me with a wolfish smile.
I’m saying stop messaging me and concentrate on your group. I’m sure those girls require more of your attention.
Sounds to me like you’re a little jealous. Just so you know, that only turns me on more.
Bye, Ethan.
You know you’re the only one I want to fuck right now. I’m hard just thinking about taking you. Screw whoever witnesses it. Can you imagine me fucking you hard against the glass while others watch? Does that turn you on, Gracelynn?
My nipples harden at the mental image.
Nope, I’m thinking about civil procedure.
Really, you’re not thinking about me spreading you on that table and tasting you? Eating you like I’m a starved man being offered the best fucking meal of my life?
I swallow a moan. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Nope, just focused on studying…
I lie to him, but the glint in his eyes tells me he knows he’s affecting me. Somehow, the bastard knows that this is exactly what I’m thinking about—him doing the same dirty things he did to me last time.
Really? Because you don’t seem to be paying attention to whatever the douche in front of you is saying.
I look up to find Stuart standing there. Shit. Did he ask me something?
“I think we need a break,” he says, clearly annoyed.
I duck my head. “Yeah, sorry. I’m a little out of it.”
“I get it. I want to go get the E&E book so we can try some problems, anyway. Let’s take a ten-minute break.”
“Okay, thanks for being so patient with me.”
I get up from my chair, close my laptop, and walk to the bathroom. I need to calm my erratic breathing. Damn Ethan for derailing my focus. I open the door to the bathroom and head straight to the sink. Turning on the cold water, I cup my hands and splash my face. I look at my reflection.
Addiction.
Withdrawal.
“Fuck.”
The bathroom door opens, and through the mirror, I watch Ethan saunter in. I turn around, my ass against the lip of the sink.
“This is the girl’s bathro—”
Before I can finish my sentence, his mouth is on me, his tongue dueling with mine in a battle for dominance I have no hope of winning.
He breaks the kiss, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “You know I’ve been thinking about those pretty lips of yours since I met you.” I can feel his growing erection pressing into my stomach.
“You can’t be in here.” Lame. Such a lame thing to say to him.
“I’ve been thinking about fucking you every day since the last time. My hand has had to relieve some of the pressure, but that doesn’t even come fucking close to the feeling of being inside you.”
“I… Ethan, we’re going to get in trouble for—”
My words turn into a moan as his hand goes to the button on my jeans, popping the metal disc free with an expert flick. His deft fingers lower the zipper; he kisses my neck, his teeth grazing gently against my skin. And that’s it. I’m gone. I shut my eyes, wanting to get lost in this feeling.
I’m spun around, and my eyes open once more. I look at Ethan through the mirror. He grinds his hips into my ass.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes. I want you to watch how turned on you get.”
I obey, my eyes widening when his hand slides inside my jeans and pulls aside my panties. I clear my throat, saying a little breathlessly, “You can’t do that here.”
He clicks his tongue, pausing for a moment. “You keep telling me what I can’t do, but do you want me to do it?”
Addict.
Next hit.
I nod.
Addict. Addict. Addict.
“Words, Gracelynn,” he admonishes softly. “Do you want this?”
I gulp. “Yes, but—” My eyes dart to the door. “Someone could come in.”
He puts his mouth to my ear, and a shudder travels down my spine. “I hope they do.” With a gasp, I get lost in the way his fingers play my body, creating a rhythm that’s unique just to him. His fingers are inside my panties again, moving, stroking, stringing me along. Just a taste—that’s all he’s giving me. But I need more.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” he whispers in my ear. A whimper escapes my lips.
With a wicked grin, he pushes a finger inside me. Then another. He curls the digits, nudging something within me I didn’t know existed. Throwing a hand out, I grip the side of the sink, my knuckles stark through my skin.
“Fuck.” The word comes out as a long, drawn-out plea. I need him inside me. He finger- fucks me, but the urgency he had last time is gone. He’s taking his time, drawing this out b
oth for him and me.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he says in a low voice. I look at him through the mirror, his eyes—dark and possessive—meet mine. His erection is now a solid length against my ass. Feeling that and seeing his hand move within my panties is bringing me closer to orgasm. I can feel the build, like a storm on the horizon, crackling and charged with electricity. His pace increases as he senses the burning need in me.
I’m so close now, and I cry out as Ethan stops. I grab his hand as he tries to withdraw it from my pants; he chuckles, pressing a kiss to my neck.
“So impatient,” he says, amused. “But I’m not going to make you come this time.”
I frown. “You’re not?”
He shakes his head slowly. “I want you to touch yourself.” He takes my hand and brings it to the place he just abandoned.
“I…”
“Touch yourself, otherwise I won’t give you what you want,” he says, arching his hips—and his erection—into me.
I hate that he thinks I need it so much I’ll comply, but he’s right. I replace his hand with my own and start where he left off. I finger myself, keeping my eyes on Ethan the whole time.
“I’m so close,” I tell him, keeping the rhythm. My orgasm takes over me, and I work hard to keep my moan restrained given our very public location. Through the mirror, Ethan stares at me hungrily. There’s some chatter outside in the hallway, the sound of female voices bringing me back to my senses.
I try to yank up my zipper. “Someone’s coming in,” I say to him.
“Let them.” He picks me up, taking me into the biggest stall and locking the door. He presses me against it. Dropping to his knees, he pulls down my panties and jeans at the same time, and I let out a small cry of surprise when I feel his tongue touch my still throbbing pussy. He laps at me for a long, slow minute before standing up and fusing his mouth to mine. I can taste myself on his lips, and I groan. Ethan drops his hand to my sex again, sliding his fingers through my folds, spreading my arousal.
Kissing his way down my neck, he kneels before me again. “Step,” he murmurs, and I obey, lifting up my leg so he can remove my jeans. He does the same again with my other leg, shoving my pants to the side. Surging up, he kisses me again, more deeply this time.
And then it’s the head of his cock nudging at my opening. I welcome him into my body. He lifts me by my thighs, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist.
When he starts to move, I feel every inch of him. Starting off slowly at first, his pace soon increases until the door shakes with each and every thrust, the vibrations radiating out through my back and down my spine.
He claims my mouth in a primal, feral kiss that consumes my senses.
Ethan’s thrusts pause when a phone rings, the sound coming from a few stalls away. It’s quickly silenced. Fuck. We aren’t alone. We’d been too lost in one another to realize someone had come into the bathroom. Ethan laughs softly, then resumes his pace. I hop right back on the orgasm train despite our unseen audience. I bite my lip, praying the pain will hold it off, but it only amplifies the maelstrom of emotions surging through me. Scoring my nails down his back, I cling to him as he fucks me hard and mercilessly. My climax roars through me, and I let out a long groan that he echoes, his own release riding mine, extending mine. He’s buried so deeply inside me that when he comes, I feel it so far inside my body, I doubt any other man will be able to touch that place again.
I lean my forehead against his shoulder, my breathing coming out in short, sharp pants, ruffling my now unbound hair.
“Gracey, Gracey, Gracey,” Ethan whispers, and my name is a prayer and a benediction. His lips touch my neck, behind my ear, my cheeks, my eyelids, and finally, my mouth as he lowers me to the ground.
In another stall, the toilet flushes and then the water is running at the sink. There’s no hiding what just happened here because now we have a witness.
When the door shuts again, I snatch up my pants and say, “What are we going to do?”
He slaps my ass playfully. “Give me ten minutes and we can go again.”
“No!” Although that idea does appeal to me. “What I mean is someone heard us.” I yank my jeans on, pulling up the zipper.
“And?”
“What do you mean ‘and’? Aren’t you worried we got caught?”
“Not at all, sweetheart.”
I gawk at him. Like this is something he does every day. That thought sours my mood. Angrily, I straighten my clothing. “You should be. We should be. We shouldn’t have done that here.”
We shouldn’t have done it at all. Not the first time, and definitely not this time.
He cocks a brow at me. “I don’t regret a thing, Gracey.” He takes me by the waist and pulls me closer. “I don’t regret making you scream my name.”
“Stop that,” I say softly.
“Stop what?” Damn him and his smile. I feel myself melting into his touch.
“Stop trying to make this into a joke. This is…” I hesitate, being very careful with my next words. “We can’t keep doing this.”
A crease forms between his eyes and he cocks his head to the side. “Do you enjoy how I make you feel?”
Addict.
Addiction.
My drug.
“I—”
He kisses me softly. “Don’t overthink this. I want this, and I think you want this too.”
Biting my bottom lip, I nod. I can’t lie. I did want this to happen. I do want this to happen. But I shouldn’t.
“So, there’s nothing to think about. We’re adults, and fucking you is the highlight of my day,” Ethan says, his hand caressing my face, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “We should go.”
“Fuck,” I say with a groan. “Stuart is still out there.”
“And my group will be wondering where I am.” He reaches around me to unlock the door.
“Wait. We can’t leave at the same time.”
“Why not?”
“Because! If we both walk out the bathroom together, people will know.”
“You said they already know,” he says, humor dancing in his eyes.
“No, not everyone! And we’d just be confirming it. You go first and then I’ll follow.”
“Okay,” he finally acquiesces. He opens the stall and I hear him retreat. The bathroom door opens and shuts and I let out a sigh. This guy is going to be the death of me. Seriously, weeks ago I would never have dared to do something like this.
I wait a couple more minutes and then exit the bathroom stall. I wash my hands and attempt to fix my hair. As I look back at my bruised lips, my mind replays how today started, how Ethan’s eyes reflected the raw desire and need I felt for him as he watched me make myself come.
I pull open the bathroom door and come to a stand-still.
“Ready?” Ethan says.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Fuck! Didn’t you hear the plan?”
“The plan was for me to leave the bathroom first. I did. Now I’m waiting for you outside.”
“You were supposed to go back and join your group.”
“I’m not a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy,” he says, his lips bruising mine in a kiss. I ache to pull him closer, but I gently push him away.
“I really have to go,” I tell him with a smile. I start walking toward the study hall, but Ethan sidles up beside me. His hand finds mine, his fingers entwining with my own, fitting perfectly.
Like they were meant to.
I shake my head. It feels like in so little time, Ethan has taken a significant part of me. I don’t know what we are. I don’t know what this means, or whether it’ll happen again. But when he touches me, when we do something as simple as walk hand-in-hand, I know this: whatever it is, it’s worth pursuing. It’ll end—all things do—but right now, I refuse to think of that. Right now, I’m just going to enjoy having Ethan Harris worship my body.
He holds the study room door open for me, and I let go of his hand. We both walk in the
direction of our adjacent study rooms like nothing ever happened. Or at least that’s how I’m walking. Ethan, on the other hand, has a huge smug grin on his face. Like he’s freshly fucked.
“See you later,” I tell him, turning left for my own room, where Stuart has his head inside the Civil Procedure book. My hand goes to the door handle, but Ethan stops me. Pulling me toward him, he kisses me again. It’s intense and passionate, and I want to drag him back to the bathroom.
“See you later,” he says, leaving me breathless as he walks to his own room. He knows just how much he affects me and is having way too much fun taking advantage of that. I let myself into the room, where Stuart doesn’t even notice my arrival. I glance back at Ethan and see one of the girls in his group watching me. For a second, I think she might be marking her territory and telling me Ethan is all hers—but then a knowing smile breaks out on her face and she winks at me.
“How did you get so good at volleyball?” I ask Ethan as we make our way back from our latest game.
“I was born good,” he teases, and I lightly smack him on the shoulder. We’ve fallen into such an unexpected rhythm. It started with sex and now we’re moving toward friendship, maybe even something more. We’re working backwards—but working nonetheless.
“Ethan, be serious for a second!”
He shrugs his broad shoulders. “I played in undergrad,” he says.
“Intramurals?” I ask, prying for more details.
“Nope,” he says.
“Beach volleyball?”
“That would have been fun, but no. I played Varsity, D1 at Duke.”
“Did not know Duke had any D1 teams.” I poke him on the ribs, finding any excuse to touch him. I know he’d say I don’t need an excuse, but we’re in new territory.
“Reigning champion four years running,” he responds with a grin, looping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me close. This is the first time we’ve been openly affectionate in public, except for the kiss outside the study room. To others, including the whole volleyball team, we’re nothing but teammates. But behind closed doors, we’re more. I don’t know what we are exactly, though. Fuck buddies, sure. Could it be more though?
Overzealous Alphas Page 5
