Full Service : (Franklin U 2 Book 5)

Chapter 5

Idefinitely know I shouldn’t tempt him. I’ve been playing with fire, toeing the line of professionalism a little too closely. Well, let’s be honest here. I’ve stepped over that damn line a few times. But I didn’t hear Dr. Sinclair protesting. He opened his mouth and let me stick my tongue right inside. He didn’t even hesitate.

And I don’t regret it. He tasted amazing, felt amazing. He’s just so hot.

I told you, I have a little bit of an obsession with this guy.

Which is why I’m wearing a gold and black jockstrap under my jeans today.

I bought it just for him.

Technically, I don’t have any official plans to meet with Dr. Sinclair today, but I do plan on stopping by his office. A surprise of sorts. Something a TA would totally do.

This is just business. With a side of pleasure.

I grin to myself as I make my way toward his building. I don’t know if he’ll even be there, but it’s worth a shot. I really would like to get his opinion on my newest purchase. It’s of utmost importance.

Earlier, I sat in my dilapidated apartment, staring at the ceiling which looks as if it will cave in with the next big storm, and contemplated if this thing I’m playing at with Dr. Sinclair is a smart idea. My roommates were gone, and I was eating a stale bagel with questionable cream cheese and really pondering it. I came to the conclusion that I really have nothing to lose at this point. It really can’t get much worse than it is.

Growing up, my dad did the best he could as a single parent, and honestly, he’s still doing an amazing job, but as a blue-collar worker traveling and living in a small trailer most of the year, there isn’t much he can do to help me financially. Hence, the rundown apartment and multiple roommates I currently have.

I shake my head, dislodging the negative thoughts. It’s all looking up. I’ve almost graduated, and pretty soon I’ll have a nice place all of my own. Well, maybe not nice, but at least it won’t be caving in.

My knuckles land on Dr. Sinclair’s closed office door with a small rap. There’s no answer, and my heart sinks slightly. I knew it would be a slim chance. He’s always busy. Between classes, committee meetings, and grading, I don’t expect him to be sitting in his office waiting for me to show up.

But still, my eager heart was ready for him to open it the minute I knocked. Not that he did. He’s obviously not here and yet still, I linger.

Leaning against the wall, I pull my phone out, grinning when I see a message from Austin. Yesterday, I finished the book he recommended and he loaned me another one. I’m eager to start it. He tried to give me some spoilers, but I quickly deleted them.

Don’t want those, mate. Just want to be surprised.

I respond back to him quickly and then stuff my phone in my pocket, pulling my lips between my teeth as I debate what to do.

Well, if Dr. Sinclair isn’t here, I’m not going to just wait around forever like a sad sap. I mean, I totally would, but my time could be spent elsewhere. Like completing the mountains of grading I need to actually focus on.

I push off the wall to head to the library, and just as I do, I hear his voice around the corner. His and another man’s.

My mouth falls into a frown before I quickly school my face.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with him speaking to another guy. I’m just unreasonably jealous. This has never happened before, but then again, everything with him is new.

He makes me crazy.

A moment later, the two of them come into view, and I feel my stomach clench. It’s the professor from before. The young, handsome one who needed help with his e-mails. I don’t even remember his name, but that’s irrelevant.

He’s cute and more importantly, he’s a professor as well.

“Well, Jonah, thank you for walking me to my office,” Dr. Sinclair says, his words sputtering off when he sees me. He clears his throat and straightens his tie. “If you have any more questions about that, let me know, and for God’s sake, stop locking students out of your classroom.”

Jonah flushes slightly and grumbles under his breath. But he nods and turns on his heel, walking away quickly.

As soon as he’s gone, Dr. Sinclair’s gaze slams into mine.

“Do you need something?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

I do. I need his cock in my ass.

But I don’t say that out loud. I just chant it in my mind. Manifestation and all that jazz.

“Just came by to ask a question. A very important one.”

Dr. Sinclair’s eyebrows rise and he nods, unlocking his office door and gesturing for me to enter.

I do, making sure to purposefully brush past him, our bodies touching for a blissful moment before I finally pull away.

He leaves the door open as I move toward his stuffed bookshelves, and my lips turn down in a scowl. I can’t show him my new jockstrap with that damn thing wide open. Jesus. Get a clue, Dr. Sinclair.

“You can close it. It’s a very delicate and private matter,” I explain, letting my hand fall from the books on the shelves.

Dr. Sinclair’s cheeks redden, and he nods. “Of course, student privacy is of utmost importance.”

He closes the door with a snick, and I feel my lips twitch in approval. I want to beam, to fucking smile, but I bite it back. He has to take this seriously, and I don’t want to give the impression that this is a joke.

He freezes for a moment, his hand on the knob before his finger snakes out and with a flick, locks it.

My heart rate doubles, and I feel my entire body heat.

He’s giving me permission. In his own silent way. It makes my dick twitch in my pants. I’m so fucking excited.

Dr. Sinclair clears his throat once more, swipes his hand down his tie, and walks to his chair. His ass lowers into it, and for just a moment, I envision that butt sitting on me.

I want to see it.

I want to strip him bare and lick my way across his entire body and then watch as his dick sinks into me. Balls deep.

“What is it you need that’s so delicate and private?” he asks, snapping me out of my lurid thoughts.

“Oh, right.” I set my bag down and move toward his desk. “I’d like to ask your opinion about something.”

Silas nods and smooths his hand down his chest. That fabulous, broad chest.

“Of course.”

I move around the large oak desk and stop near his side. He swivels his chair so he’s facing me, and I rest my hands on my hips.

I can see that he’s breathing a little faster, and I want to do this before he changes his mind, unlocks the door, and kicks me out.

“I bought something for work, and I’d like to know what you think.”

He doesn’t respond, just squeaks slightly. Love it when he makes those noises. Really gets my gears going.

My fingers land on the button of my jeans, and I flick it open. His eyes settle on the movement, and I feel like the hottest performer in town. Shit, he makes me feel like a million bucks.

The zipper is slowly lowered and I spread the fly open, showing him the gold fabric of my jock strap.

His lips part, and he starts to pant.

Mm, yes. I want to see him drool.

“I had to buy this for work, and I don’t know if it looks good on me.”

It’s a ridiculous thing to ask, I know. It looks hot on me, but I’d sure love that reassurance from Dr. Sinclair himself.

My hands tug my jeans down and they pool around my ankles, leaving me standing there, wearing only my t-shirt and my jock strap.

I see the bulge in his slacks as he eyes me.

He’s hard. For me.

“What do you think?” I ask, and his eyes flick up to meet mine.

“I can’t say with that shirt on.”

My mouth splits into a grin as I whip it off.

Now all that’s left are my shoes and my pants around my ankles.

He runs a hand across his jaw and lets out a shuddering breath.

“It’s nice. Looks good with your skin tone.”

I nod, flexing the muscles in my stomach and watching as he lifts a hand, almost as if he’s trying to touch me before he curls his fingers into his palm and rests it on the arm of his chair.

“Want to see the back?” I ask, sounding far too innocent. I know exactly what I’m doing.

“Only so I can give you an unbiased opinion.”

I snort a small laugh as I turn and flex my glutes, making them round and hard. All those painful squats have been worth it for this moment. I peer over my shoulder at him and see him grind the heel of his palm against his dick.

“What do you think?” I ask. “Do you think people will like it?”

“Yes.” It’s clipped and strained. “Bend over.”

My dick perks up at the sound of his command, and I bend at the waist, letting him take in the view. I wish he’d touch me, stick his face between my cheeks and lick. He’s close enough. He totally could, but of course he doesn’t.

“Want to see my hole?” I ask, daring him to do something. Anything.

When he doesn’t answer right away, I add, “You can touch. See what you think.”

He lets out a shaky breath, almost as if warring with himself, and then seconds later, I feel his hands on my ass, warm, strong fingers pulling my cheeks apart so he can see what’s hidden inside.

My dick swells even more, achingly hard against the fabric of my jock. His thumbs brush against the straps under each cheek, and I just stand there, completely still, not wanting this to end. I’m worried that if I make a move, he’ll realize what he’s doing and run.

“Looks very nice,” he finally says. It’s a rasp more than words, but I’ll take the compliment.

I don’t respond, just experience this moment. It’s going to end soon. He’s going to remove his hands from my ass any minute now and the spell will be broken.

But he doesn’t. Not as quickly as I expect at least. No, he just holds me, his fingers flexing on my cheeks as I wait with bated breath for what comes next. The air in the office is electric, hot, and thick with tension. I arch my hips back, offering God knows what to him and hoping for acceptance.

He swears under his breath and tightens his grip on me before stuffing his face between my cheeks. I can feel the abrasion from his facial hair hitting my skin, and I shiver just as my mouth opens in a loud gasp.

His face is in my ass.

Holy fuck.

Fuck. Me.

I didn’t expect this.

I so fucking didn’t.

My hand slams onto the desk beside me to keep myself upright as my legs start to shake. He hasn’t even really started rimming me, he’s just stuffed his face in there and is breathing me in.

This is by far the hottest thing I’ve ever done. Or have ever had happen to me.

And it’s at the university. In an office. With a professor.

Motherfuck.

A low moan escapes him, soft and desperate, and then his tongue flicks out and swipes over my hole.

I slap my free hand over my mouth to keep myself from groaning loudly. I don’t want us to get caught, but fuuuuuck, it feels good.

His lips and tongue are teasing my entrance as his fingers grip me roughly. Fuck, I want bruises there tomorrow. I want him to mark me.

His tongue is lapping around my rim, not sliding in but teasing me all the same. I’m frantically trying to keep my moans in, swallowing them down, but it’s almost impossible with the way he’s taunting me.

I’m so going to get him back for this.

I’m going to figure out a way to make him sit quietly while I take him apart, piece by piece.

My teeth bite down onto my fist as he swirls and flicks his tongue until he finally sighs and plunges into me. My eyelids flutter shut as I arch back into him, wanting him deeper. I want more. A greedy boy.

Who wouldn’t be with Dr. Sinclair’s tongue up their ass?

It’s a slow, methodical fucking. Almost like he’s savoring the taste of me. And that in and of itself drives me crazy. I’m gently fucking back against his face as he plunges in and out of me, taking his time, driving me so close to orgasm, and yet it’s not enough. I need more. I want his finger up there, his cock.

I’m about to suggest it. I have lube in my bag, but then the phone rings, and Dr. Sinclair swiftly pulls away. It’s such a quick, frantic movement that his chair rolls into the wall with a bang.

I clutch at my dick as I turn around and see his chest heaving, his face red and wet.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his eyes wide. “Fuck, Everly.”

I nod, swallowing as he tries to compose himself. But his arms and legs are shaking and so are mine. We’re a trembling mess together. He reaches for the phone and picks it up, clearing his throat and smoothing his tie, his eyes no longer on me.

Quietly, I pull up my pants and tug on my shirt, tucking my still-aching dick under the waistband of my jeans to hide the evidence of what we just did. I want to see if Dr. Sinclair is still hard, but I can’t see his cock. He’s tucked his legs under the opening of his desk and has hidden himself from me.

Such a goddamn shame.

I want to crawl underneath and suck him into my mouth, listen to him come while on the phone.

But of course, I don’t do that. That would be insane.

I straighten my hair and wait for my body to calm down before I grab my bag and start to leave.

Before I do though, I turn around and see Dr. Sinclair watching me, his eyes dark and intent.

Fuck me. He’s so hot. I never stood a chance.

I knew it and I went for it anyways.

That night at the club changed everything.

I point to the door and he nods, running a hand across the stubble on his face while continuing to speak to someone on the phone. I don’t know who it is, nor do I care. I just want them to hang up so we can continue what we started, but I think that’s over and done with. The moment of pure insanity was broken as soon as the phone rang, and I honestly don’t know if it will ever happen again.

The thought makes me sadder than I care to admit as I pull the door open and stride out.

It’s fine. I can hope for more, can try again another time.

If he broke this time, he’ll break again.

I’m sure of it.