Men in Shorts

by Lori Perkins

  “A camera. I’m going to take a picture of the class.” A lame excuse. For some reason it sounded better in her head.

  “A picture.” The corner of his mouth twitched.

  Cecilia’s stomach rolled. The things a man could do with a mouth like that. His body was one thing, his eyes electrifying, but that mouth made her think of a multitude of naughty things. And those hands. Dear God, those hands. She’d always had a thing for large hands. His were exceptional. He could cup her ass perfectly, wrap them around her waist, stroke her in ways she’d only dreamed about for the last six weeks. It was a wonder she was passing the class. All she could think about was sex when the man was in the same room. All because of those hands. Cecilia’s gaze swept down to his groin and the zipper on his khaki shorts or what was under the zipper. Were other parts as…?

  He cleared his throat and her eyes snapped back to his. No, no, no. He caught me ogling. Don’t say anything, stay calm. Maybe he didn’t notice.

  He raised a brow and her face flooded with heat. Oh shit. He saw me.

  “Not inside the caves. The tribe on the reservation won’t allow photographs. All paintings will have to be hand drawn and documented. It’s part of the agreement to get access. It’s on sacred land.” He nodded to her phone. “If that has a camera attached, you can’t bring it.”

  “Yes, but I won’t take it in the caves.”

  “You won’t bring it at all.” A loud bang sounded behind them and Professor Garner spun on his heel yelling at a couple of students tossing a crate into the back of the truck. “Hey. That’s delicate equipment.”

  Megan snagged the phone from Cecilia’s hand and snapped a picture of his ass as he strode away. “A souvenir.”

  Now that she’d seen him in the damn shorts, she’d be thinking about a hell of a lot more than those hands. Cecilia snatched it back. “What are you doing? He might catch you.”

  “If you take a picture, it lasts longer.”

  Cecilia stared at the screen and smiled. “Never mind. Nice shot.”

  “So, Ms. Thompson, what are you doing in my class?” Professor Garner down-shifted the pickup, taking the corner a little faster than necessary. The back of the truck fishtailed across the ruts in the road, bouncing her across the seat toward dangerous territory.

  Cecilia tightened her grip on the door and tugged, putting more space between them. The last thing she needed was to bounce into his lap. She glanced out the side. No rail, big drop, narrow road. Her skin twitched and the overwhelming urge to scoot back over, hit. Along with spiders and snakes, she hated heights. A lot.

  “Well?”

  “What?”

  “I wondered why you took my class. You don’t seem the least bit interested in the curriculum.”

  “I thought…” She tightened her grip as the truck moved closer to the drop-off. The dust from the vehicle in front created a cloud, hiding everything but the edge and the smoking hot man next to her. Better to keep eyes on the edge. Less dangerous.

  “You thought what?”

  “It would be interesting.”

  She glanced down at his hand, capping the ball end of the stick shift and visualized his fingers engaged in another activity. He caught her staring again and lifted his hand off the stick. “You keep staring at my hand. Is there something wrong with it?”

  “No,” she squeaked. Nothing wrong, other than it could be otherwise engaged. She closed her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts on anything but his hand and the bulge in his shorts. She sucked in a breath and opened her eyes. They gravitated back to his hand then slid lower. Why’d he have to wear shorts? She could handle him in the suit.

  “Interesting?” He steered away from the edge and snorted, shifting into a lower gear as they began their descent into Turkey Creek canyon. “For a second I thought you might have taken the class to get to know me.”

  “Where’d you get an idea like that?” Oh, she knew where he got the idea. She couldn’t keep her damn eyes off him or her mouth closed. For all she knew, she’d been drooling. Liar. You’re such a bad liar. Originally she’d been told the hot guys hung out in his class. Being single and not getting any younger, it seemed like a good idea at the time. She hadn’t anticipated the teacher being one of them. Damn. She had it bad. Heat washed across her face and moisture beaded on her forehead.

  “The way you watch me in class, the way you were looking me over in the parking lot. You still have that picture on your cell phone?”

  Cecilia blushed a deeper scarlet. “Oh God. You saw that?”

  The corner of his mouth curled. I don’t miss much. I’ve been dying to have some one-on-one time with you, Ms. Thompson.”

  “Cecilia.”

  “Cecilia. You can call me Devin.”

  “Devin. You don’t look like a Devin.” A Devin seemed smaller, with perhaps blond hair and green eyes. He didn’t have coffee colored hair and sinful lapis eyes. Cecilia shifted on her seat, tightening her grip and trying to slow her heart beat before he noticed. Devin was a lot more personal than Professor.

  “Why did you really take my class, Cecilia?”

  Why didn’t they call his class interrogation 101? Crap. Give him something, anything. “I was told it was easy.” Her face felt as though it would melt from the heat burning under her skin.

  “Honesty. I like that.” He shifted again, slowing the pickup further. “I’d like to get to know you. When you’re done with my class, would you like to go out to dinner sometime?”

  “A date? I don’t know.” He was interested in her? She’d have never known.

  “It’s almost over. Two more weeks.”

  “Don’t you think that will raise a few eyebrows?”

  “It’s not like you’re fresh out of high school. We’re two adults.Yes?” He glanced sideways at her. “Do your homework and you’ll pass. I won’t treat you any differently than any of the other students. But I have to admit, since I first met you, I’ve felt this pull, this need to get to know you better.”

  Time to change the subject. “So what do you do for fun?”

  “All kinds of stuff. And you—what do you like to do, Cecilia?” His voice stroked her between the thighs, making her already soaked panties, wetter.

  I’d like to ride you hard. Cecilia drew in a breath. “I like to dance, hike, paint—ride horseback.” Yee-hah.

  “Anything else?” The tone of his voice fell between a growl that made her stomach flip and one that said he knew there was something more she hadn’t revealed. He did say he didn’t miss much.

  “No.”

  He down-shifted. “We’re coming to the bottom. You sure there isn’t something else you want to say?”

  “Are there spiders and snakes in the cave?”

  “Yup.”

  “Damn.”

  “Ms. Thompson and I are going to document the chamber standing alone off to the left. I want the rest of you in the main to assist in documenting everything. The layout, the art. I want every fire pit mapped. Dr. Smith is in charge, if you have any questions.” The group proceeded ahead and Devin grabbed her elbow. “This way.” He lifted his lantern and turned down a passageway to the left.

  “The people who lived in this cave worshipped a fertility idol. I’ve been told the chamber we’re about to enter is dedicated to her. The goddess. Don’t be surprised at anything you see.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Devin ducked his head and stepped into a chamber that opened up to a fifteen-foot ceiling. “Oh boy. My forward observer didn’t exaggerate. Maybe you’d better wait.” He blocked her from entering.

  Cecilia shoved him out of the way and squeezed by. “I’m a big girl. There isn’t anything I can’t handle. Well, as long as the room isn’t full of spiders and snakes.”

  “No spiders and snakes.”

  “Oh.” Cecilia gasped upon entering

  True, she could handle just about anything, but a six-foot penis standing sentinel before her was not expected and about th
e last thing a girl would want to encounter alone in a dark room with the man of her dreams. He lifted his lantern higher illuminating everything.

  “Phallic symbols,” he said.

  Understatement. Ginormous penises. Somebody overcompensated. Everywhere around her, they stood. Some straight, others twisty and deformed, but all were erect, screaming look at me. And what else could she do? Was this what a slut acid trip looked like? Salivating Dali? Regardless what it was, it cranked the tension higher between them. Cecilia closed her eyes and counted down from ten, taking calming breaths. She could handle this and she’d be damned if she let on it bothered her.

  She opened her eyes and tried to take it in from an artist’s perspective, doing her best to forget what it was she really studied. Her eyes swept the walls and came to rest on the Neanderthal version of the Kama Sutra. Graphic detailed drawings of Fred, Wilma and Barney getting it on in every position imaginable. “Dear God.” Forget it. There was no way she could hide her reaction to that.

  “Actually, she was a goddess.” He pointed to a statue in a niche in the wall of a fat woman with huge breasts and thighs. Not exactly a pin-up model.

  “They were hunters and gatherers. They had to rely on each other to survive. The more children a woman produced, the more value she held to her people. You did bring your sketchbook?”

  Cecilia’s mouth dropped open. She was supposed to sketch giant penises all day? That, and people fucking. In detail? She’d be so horny she wouldn’t be able to think straight. Two weeks of this, next to him drawing erections and she’d fry her vibrator for sure. “I…”

  “Can you believe the detail?”

  Detail? She stared in horror. They’d even colored in the pubic hair and the cocks and testicles on the paintings had veins. He really wanted her to sketch this room?

  He slipped up behind her and whispered in her ear. “Look up. You’ve got to see the ceiling.”

  Cecilia swallowed and for a second, squeezed her eyes shut. Unable to resist, she opened them and followed to where he pointed, coming face to face with a Neanderthal orgy. “Looks like the whole tribe got in on the ceremony.” Some cave girl was sucking a massive cock and getting another from behind.

  “That’s—interesting.”

  “You wanted interesting.” Devin laughed. “And it’s our job to document it.” He pulled out a notebook and set the lantern down on the tip of one of the huge erections. He strode across the room and dropped to the sandy floor. Crossing his legs, he began to scan the walls and take notes.

  Well, wasn’t he all business? Cecilia huffed and sank to the sand. She flipped her notebook open and tipped her chin up. “Should I start with the giant penises or the sex show on the ceiling?”

  “They’re not going anywhere. It might be easier to start with the phallic symbols and work your way up.”

  She hadn’t been asking him. It was more a conversation with herself. His comment only reminded her of her situation and the last thing she wanted to look at, was a huge penis. She dropped to her back and stared up, taking it all in. In the center, a man with coffee-colored hair and a petite woman. She straddled him in a squat and they were face to face. The artist had elaborated on the man’s cock. The woman was half on the gigantic…

  Cecilia blinked. Devin stood over her, smiling down. “I wouldn’t lie down if you don’t like spiders.”

  “I don’t see any spiders.” He dropped to a knee beside her and reached for her hair. His hand came away with a spider covering the back.

  “Tarantula. Not poisonous, but they do have a nasty bite.” He stood and moved away with the hairy brown monstrosity.

  Cecilia screamed and vaulted to her feet, shaking her hair and jumping in place. The professor transferred the spider to a penis and she leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, not wanting contact with any part of the cave or anywhere any spider could be lurking.

  “I said I’d like to get to know you, but this is a bit sudden.” His hands slid under her ass, holding her up and against him, but he didn’t move to put her down.

  She froze. What was she doing? Yeah, real professional there, Cecilia. She started to loosen her grip and he tightened his.

  “Where are you going?”

  Nowhere, now. His hard body against hers—an unexpected side effect of her panic attack, one she wasn’t sure she wanted to do away with. She shifted her gaze to his. “Sorry, I…”

  He spun her around and pressed her back against one of the stone erections.“Oh hell, when in Rome.” He lowered his mouth and kissed her, sending energy zipping through her blood. Her stomach flipped and she arched into him, needing him closer. Wanting him naked, skin to skin. Inside her.

  Then again, half the university was in the next room…

  “I think perhaps we should stop.” It wasn’t a good idea, no matter how tempting.

  “Don’t think,” he murmured against her lips.

  Truth was, she hadn’t been able to think about anything but sex since she’d walked into the room with him. All the pictures and cocks all over the room made it damn near impossible.

  “What was this room used for?”

  “Hmm.” He continued to nibble on her lips. Pressing a very obvious erection against her. Heat poured through her body.

  Resist, resist, resist. Cecilia pulled her mouth away. There had to be something very wrong about doing this here, besides the very obvious reason they could get caught. “What was this room used for?”

  “Fertility. See the surfaces on the penises. They’ve been worn smooth by hands running over them.”

  “Let’s not tempt fate.”

  He pulled back. “I’ve got protection.” His eyes sparked with humor. “Don’t tell me you’re superstitious?”

  She shook her head. “This gives me the heebie-jeebies. Like touching this shit could get me pregnant. I don’t think so.”

  He released her and stepped back. “Your call.”

  Cecilia nodded. “Thanks for taking care of that spider.”

  He shook his head and smiled. “I’d do it again if you’d jump on me like that one more time.”

  She smiled, stepped around him and grabbed her sketchbook, flipping it open. She found a perch on a rock and plopped down. He leaned against the six-foot penis and watched her. She tried to ignore him, avoid glancing his way, but her attention kept drifting back to him in those damn shorts with his arms crossed over that hard chest.

  Stop looking at me. Burning heat moved through her. She turned around on the rock and examined a different part of the cave, still feeling his eyes on her back, then lower as he checked out her ass.

  “Paint a picture. It will last longer.”

  She heard him chuckle behind her and felt his eyes leave her. “You are aware you’re sitting on a penis?”

  Cecilia paced back and forth in front of his tent. She stopped and stared across the camp where a group sat around a fire, roasting marshmallows and talking about the excavation.

  “Just knock or something.” The tent sat in a dark nook. No one would know she was here. She glanced at the canvas door. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. You can’t knock. Call out his name. Tell him you have a question. That’s stupid. He’s going to know you came here to jump him.” Cecilia sighed. “Fucking giant penises. I have to get a life.” She spun and ran head on into Devin’s chest. Hot, hard, delicious. He grabbed her arms to steady her, holding her tight against him. Cecilia tipped her head back and sucked in a breath.

  “Lurking outside my tent, Ms. Thompson?”

  “I wasn’t lurking. I, I…”

  “I heard your entire conversation. Quite entertaining. Would you like to come in?”

  “No, I…” She broke from his hold and stepped away.

  “You sure about that?” He brushed her shoulder with his hand as he walked by. Electrical current zinged through her blood, igniting a well stoked fire. “I know why you’re here.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “For the same reason
I was over at your tent, looking for you.” He pulled the flap back and motioned for her to step through. Cecilia entered and glanced around the tent. A cot sat off to the side, along with a table, chairs and laptop. Lots of open space in the middle. A tarp covered the sandy soil, soft, perfect for rolling on and not a spider in sight.

  Devin strode over to a cooler and pulled it open, bending over in his shorts. Cecilia sucked in a breath. “Would you like a beer, or do you just want to get to the jumping part?”

  Cecilia shook her head and he dropped the lid on the cooler.

  “I think I’d like to skip the beer.” She launched herself on him, taking him to the ground. They rolled across the space until he was on top, pinning her down.

  “What, no beer?”

  “If I have to stare at one more giant penis without scratching this itch, I’m going to lose it,” she said.

  “That makes two of us.” He lowered his mouth and devoured her lips, taking the air from her lungs. Cecilia slid her fingers into his hair and opened to him, letting his tongue dip inside her mouth. His lips trailed along her jaw, nipping kissing the lobe of her ear. Warm breath tickled the nape of her neck, sending shivers racing through her body. Inside the fire exploded.

  “I’ve wanted to put my hands on you all day. God, you make me crazy.”

  “Hands. Please.”

  He pushed her thighs open with his knee and snaked a hand under her shirt. His thumb slipped under her bra and brushed her nipple. It popped up, hard as a pebble. Cecilia groaned and he fed on it, intensifying the kiss, grinding his hips into hers. He shoved her bra and shirt up, cupping her breast, continuing to work the pad of his thumb over her nipple. He dipped his head and sucked her beaded nipple between his lips.

  Cecilia grabbed his waistband, pulling him tighter into her. “Now. I need you inside me.”

  His hand left her shirt and dropped to the button of her denim shorts, tugging them open. It stroked up and down her mound, rubbing, petting her through the fabric. Cecilia groaned and grabbed his hand, pushing him inside her open zipper, working his fingers under the sheer lace of her thong. “There. Touch me there.”