Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Eli
Cum jets out of his cock, spilling onto my hand and dick while he arches off the wall, muscles tight and eyes rolling back, setting off my own orgasm. I continue stroking us, groaning as pulses of cum cover us again. My knees buckle while the last tremors leave my body, making me brace against the wall to keep from falling.
He sags in front of me, a glazed look in his eyes as I let go of us and turn to clean myself up in the bathroom.
This has been a sort of routine the last week. Every night, he comes to my dorm. Sometimes I text him, sometimes he does me, but we always end up together, writhing and coming.
I don’t even mean for it to happen. I’ve tried to take a break a few times. To create some much needed distance between us. But I always give in, finding myself jonesing like an addict if it’s been close to twenty-four hours.
This will probably peter out soon, right? No way you can stay this hot and heavy with a person for long.
So far, we’ve stuck to hand stuff. Him being so new to all of this, I don’t want to scare him away. Because… I’ve obviously been enjoying our time, and I don’t want it to end before it has to.
After washing my hands and wiping off my dick, I come back into my room, finding him staring at the portraits again, his khakis already perfectly back in place.
“Do you ever sell these?” he asks while his eyes flick over them.
“If I need money, then sometimes. But in general, no.”
He reaches his hand up, lightly touching the edge of Charlotte’s portrait. I finished it not too long ago, putting it up on the wall with the rest of them. “This one is my favorite. It feels the most intense.”
My throat tightens because I don’t hate him doing that. Complimenting me. Looking at my work with reverence. And that’s not good. It’s too comfortable.
“You should go,” I blurt.
He turns to me, a look of hurt and surprise mixed on his face before it’s replaced with blankness.
“I just mean that I have to get up in the morning. So…” I shrug my shoulders and let my voice trail off, while the lie floats in the air.
“Of course. Sorry.”
He heads for the door, throwing his disguise hat that he always wears to come see me on his head while I trail behind him, a guilty sensation creeping into my chest.
“I’ll, uh, see you soon,” I mutter while reaching around him and opening the door, staring at his neck the entire time, wanting to bite onto it and drag him back into my lair like some kind of selfish troll. But that would be a bad idea.
I’m still staring at him when there’s a little squeak in front of us, causing my face to snap toward the sound.
Katie stands there, her hand raised like she was about to knock and her mouth formed into a small O.
She recovers quickly, dropping her hand and pulling down her uniform from the restaurant where she works. She thrusts her hand back out in the space between us, ready to shake his hand. “Well, hello! We’ve never actually met. I’m Katie. I hate everything your mother stands for, but it’s nice to meet you,” she says with an eager smile on her face the entire time, vigorously shaking his hand when he gives it to her.
I scrub my hand down my face. “Jesus, Katie.”
“Nice to meet you too,” he says stiffly, wide-eyed at her presence.
She nods at his response, then maneuvers around him standing in the doorway, turning around once she’s entered my dorm and leaning against the wall.
He steps into the hallway and eyes Katie standing next to me, his face reddening while he darts his eyes in between us. “Oh. I-I didn’t know you were entertaining.”
Katie brightens next to me, reaching up to throw an arm around my neck, which I know to be friendly, but Warren’s eyes track the movement.
“Yes. Entertaining me. Eli is a great entertainer . You know that though, right?” she says, winking at him.
His lips thin slightly, until he opens them to flounder for words. “Well—I’ll just—I’ll see you around. You two have—Nice to meet you,” he mumbles, before scurrying away from us and down the hall, pulling his hat down lower as he goes.
The moment the door clicks back into place, Katie turns to me, a glare on her face. “You’re in fucking trouble,” she says sternly.
I widen my eyes and look around like she must be talking to someone else. “Me? What did I do?”
She shakes her head in bewilderment and crosses her arms. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing exactly?”
“Huh?”
“With him,” she clarifies, the exasperation clear in her voice. “And you can stop pretending he’s not the blond cutie you told me about. I’m not going to tell anyone.”
I shrug my shoulders, looking away from her accusatory face. “We’re just having fun.”
Rolling her eyes, she stalks away from me and deeper into my room, passing through the small living area while I follow closely behind her. “You’re practically glowing, Eli.” She shakes her head again, turning back to me while stopping in the middle of the bedroom. “You like him. This is not good.”
“Would you stop?” I scold while walking around her and picking up my half-finished blunt then sitting on the bed. “I don’t like him. I just came. I always glow after I come.”
She looks like she doesn’t believe me but remains silent until her eyes snag on my work in progress, which I hastily turned around and shoved in the corner when Warren came over. He asked to see it, but I flatly denied him, telling him it was just some stupid graduation requirement that had to be in an exhibit next year and then hastily grabbed his dick to make him forget.
“Oh!” she exclaims, moving toward it. “Is this what you’re working on for that credit thing you were talking about?”
I stand abruptly, trying to grab her arm and draw her attention away from the canvas. “Uh, actually wait. That’s not finished yet and I?—”
It’s too late. She curves her head around the turned easel, looking at it and then glaring at me again. “Oh, okay!” she yells and wrenches the easel around so I have to stare right into the face of it. “Oh, yes. Yes . This is what it looks like to not like someone. Use their face as your fucking muse.”
I purse my lips but don’t say anything, walking over to my window and sitting on the little alcove in front of it, patting my pockets for my lighter.
“Well even if you ‘don’t like’ him,” she begins, using sarcastic air quotes. “I think he might feel differently.”
I shake my head, finding the lighter and fishing it out of my pocket. “Nah.”
She lowers her eyes and gives me an unamused look. “You saw how jealous he was. He thinks I’m here to fuck you, and he didn’t like it at all.”
“Nope.” I light the blunt and inhale while cracking the window open next to me. “I didn’t see that,” I mutter around holding the smoke in my lungs.
I did see that, and more importantly, or maybe disturbingly, I think I liked it.
She’s quiet now, plopping onto my bed while I blow the smoke out the window.
When she speaks again, it’s in a somber tone. “I hope you know,” she begins while her eyes burn into the side of my face, but I can’t bring myself to look at her. “He can never come out. Because of his mom and his future. You’ll have to be okay in the shadows with him.”
I laugh. “The shadows are where I thrive.”
She doesn’t laugh back, and when I finally look over, there’s no trace that she believes me.
“I’m being serious,” she says, her voice filled with concern.
I nod my head while I take another hit, bringing my knee up to rest my arm on. “I know. I know. I am too. It’s not like that. I’m not looking for that with him. I’m never looking for that with anyone.”
“You don’t always have to be looking for it to happen.”
I blow more smoke out of the open window. “I have it under control, Katie. We’re messing around. That’s it.”
She huffs next to me and stays silent for only a moment before asking, “Do you have any snacks?”
I smile, happy that we’re dropping the subject. “Uh. I’m not sure. You can look in the fridge and cabinets. Have whatever.”
She bounces off the bed and into the living area, where I hear her open the fridge door.
Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I quickly type out a text and send it.
Me
I’m not fucking her.
The moment I send it, I hear a small pinging sound coming from outside. Looking out the window, I strain my eyes to see into the darkness. A light over by the trees a few yards away from the dorm’s entrance catches my eye.
Squinting more, I can make out a figure standing there, their face illuminated by the light on their phone as they read something on it.
A smile graces my face as Katie throws herself back on my bed, munching on a bag of potato chips.
She continues talking, while I occasionally add half-hearted responses, my eyes and brain too concerned on watching the figure, my nerves settling every time I’m able to find him in the darkness.
After a few more minutes of this, my smile slowly shifts downward. Because 1. His stalkerish tendencies should not calm me. They should be red flags waving aggressively in my face that send me running for the hills. And 2. I didn’t need to text him that. To care if he was jealous and sad. To make him feel better.
My frown deepens, and I abruptly jump up from the window, quickly stubbing out my blunt and forcefully closing the window before yanking the blinds down too.
Katie looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, darting her eyes between me and the window. “You good? What did the window ever do to you?”
“Nothing. I’m good now.”