Chapter 18
Still think we have nothing to talk about?
Dipshit
Define talking.
You opening your mouth and something stupid coming out.
Dipshit
Okay, that’s not what you want with my mouth.
Think not? Enlighten me then. What do I want with your mouth?
Dipshit
Didn’t know I needed to dumb it down for you.
Oh, this ought to be good. Yeah, dumb it down.
Dipshit
…
What I thought. It’s okay, Princess. At least you’re pretty.
If you asked me what I was doing, what was in my head, I’d have been just as lost. I had no fucking clue.
Cornering Cal in the bathroom on Monday hadn’t gone as planned.
Nothing about any of this was going as planned anymore.
Completely off the rails here, totally unscripted.
I’d wanted to make him uncomfortable. I’d wanted him to shove me off, hit me, finally get me back for the sucker punch.
That hadn’t happened. No, what had happened was the best kiss of my life.
Not that I had hundreds to compare it to, but it said something that coming in first and second were the two kisses I’d shared with Cal.
And damn, could he kiss. Those tan lips of his were as warm as his skin promised they’d be. His hard body against mine, under mine, had sent shivers and jolts of electricity to my brain and balls, frying both in different ways that had the same outcome.
I wanted him. Again and again.
I wanted him until the novelty wore off.
Until he didn’t fight me and gave in so I could get bored and get over him.
And just to prove me wrong, just to be a dick, he probably wouldn’t get boring, and I wouldn’t get over him.
I snickered at that, earning a glare from the librarian over the glasses perched on the end of her nose.
The smell of old pages, dust hanging in the air caught by the beams of light from the windows, the rows of books like muted rainbows outlined in dark wood shelves, the long study tables with the tiny green-shaded reading lamps …
This was a safe space for me, a mental space.
I’d come to the library for peace and quiet during my study period because this place was always empty.
So why the hell did Cal just walk in and head to the back stacks?
Determined, that had to be it. Cal Winters was determined to stay in my head, in my cells, irritating and unnerving, and … Who was I kidding? I wanted him there.
The librarian gave him a once-over, then continued shelving books. The wheels on her cart squeaked as she moved to another section, leaving me out of eyesight of her and the path to where Cal disappeared too tempting.
I shouldn’t. I’d pushed the wall between us enough. I’d teased the line we’d drawn in the sand so much, it was now more of a zigzag.
Fuck it.
No one was around. Other than the decrepit librarian, the only movement in the last twenty minutes had been Cal.
Why not give in to a few more wicked fantasies.
The library? Come on. It had to rank on some hookup to-do list, some kinky twist on the book club or something, and I was all about being thorough.
I sat my textbook noiselessly on the table and stood.
The chair only made a slight hushed noise against the carpet as I slid free to follow my prey.
Was it perverse to think of him that way?
Right now, that was all he was. A target.
A goal. The heat to my seeking missile. Okay, that last one was a bit too obvious.
Maybe I had a missile in my— No, just stop, Jack.
I rounded the first row, all stealth and fascination. My insides were conflicted enough to keep pushing me. Waves of evil delight over messing with Cal’s head jumbled with the humming vibrations of excitement. Cal under my power again? Fuck, yeah.
Nothing to talk about, my ass.
This might explode in my face. Cal might do more than punch me back, but I wasn’t the weak kid I’d been before. I was fully confident I could take him if he wanted to get that kind of rough, but I also wanted to believe he wouldn’t go there.
Yeah, my head was a contradiction on the best days. People sucked, my past taught me that, and no amount of therapy would reshape that impression. I’d been fine with it. I’d been okay keeping the world out, leaning on my family for everything, then Cal …
After months of trying to cover this up with rage, trying to make it go away, make him go away, I tipped over and gave in to it. The fall? The bottom had to be somewhere, but for now, I’d enjoy the rush.
Cal rounded the shelves at the end. I speed walked to the edge, then slowed before turning the corner.
No one was back here either. The windows were near the entrance, by the study tables, so this area only had the dim glow of the ancient overhead lighting system.
Cal stopped at the back corner, scanned a few rows, then stepped to his right, out of view.
I made my move.
My heart pounded so loudly he’d hear it, and my cover would be blown, but he never caught a sound. Hands on his hips, he was totally unprepared. I smashed into him, covering his mouth with one hand and wrapping an arm around his chest, forcing him, face-first, into the books.
Cal reacted and braced for the impact against the shelves.
Shoulders tight, he turned his head, and our eyes locked.
He relaxed a degree, and I slid my hand to his throat, confident he wouldn’t shout and get us busted.
His forehead hit the hardback spines in front of him as he exhaled.
God, that filled me up. Anyone else he might’ve countered with an elbow to the face.
He wanted me here. He wanted this as much as I did.
My half-hard shaft went full-blown against his ass as I pinned him. Chest to his back and lips at his ear, I rubbed myself over his rounded backside. It was a bold move, one I had hoped would make him fight me, would get him flaming mad and twitchy.
He didn’t. Because he just had to piss me off at every turn.
I chuckled into his ear, then bit it hard, trying anything to get a rise out of him.
“You’re crazy,” Cal whispered.
“Says the football jock letting me rub my dick all over his ass.” I got closer so that my lips brushed his skin when I spoke. “Who’s the crazy one? Hmm?”
He jerked, halfheartedly trying to push me off, then slumped and rested his head against the books.
Something was wrong. His flame was a bit dull today.
Instead of getting bored as I’d expected when the fire dimmed, I got curious.
We’d never talked before, not about real shit, not with words that weren’t meant to cut each other.
I wasn’t even sure how to ask him what was wrong.
“Someone will see.”
“Shh.” I shoved two fingers in his mouth and brushed his ass with my dick again, harder. “See what? This is nothing, right?”
Cal, ever the pleasant fucking surprise, froze for only a second, then sucked on my fingers, ripping a moan from my throat. I pressed his whole body harder against the shelves, nudged the curve of his ear with my nose, then scraped my teeth over it as if to reward him for the gift.
He shivered and softly hummed. The vibration of it trickled through me until it buzzed in my balls, circling them over and over. Hell, yeah.
“God, you feel good.” I hadn’t meant to say those words out loud. I wanted him bitchy, not figuring out how into him I was. I yanked my fingers free and bit down on his neck to silence any response. His answering groan reverberated in my mouth, and I mmmed into his skin.
Ah, fuck me. This was already so out of my control.
Our breathing was too loud in the hushed atmosphere. The rustle of clothes might as well have been a shout. Cal sucked in a breath as I snaked my arm under his shirt.
He pushed into me. Not like the get off me kind either. Heat radiated from his skin, burning my palm and seeping into my arm. Damn, his abs were nice. I traced the ridges with my wet fingertips while brushing my nose through the soft hair at the back of his head.
Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.
Cal’s panting increased as my rutting against his ass did. As if they were directly linked.
Maybe they were.
“This is so fucked,” Cal breathed.
A dark snicker escaped, and I couldn’t stop myself from scraping my teeth over his neck. The slight quiver of his muscles under my hand, the press of hips into mine, his erratic breathing …
“What is? That a soccer player is dry humping your ass?” I lowered my voice even more. “Or that you like it?”
He never answered, so I didn’t know what finally got to him.
Cal bucked, dislodging me, and forced me against the shelf across from us.
This was becoming a trend. Even as our arms flailed, both of us trying to gain the upper hand, we smiled.
Was this simply us? Were we destined to fight, be it in true hate or lust?
Cal pinned me, and as I struggled, he leaned in and whispered across my mouth, “We need to talk.”
I lifted a brow. His timing was impeccable. With our dicks fighting just as hard to escape our jeans as we were each other, now he wanted to talk? “That so?”
He loosened his hold and put too much space between us. “Yes. Um, not here, though. Not at school.”
This had been my original plan. I wanted him talking, admitting shit.
I wanted this war over, but now I was pissed.
Hard up and fuming. I snagged one loosely held arm and wrenched it behind his back as I spun, pushing him against the shelves, then locked him in place with my other arm around his chest.
As if our brains were in sync, no matter what we were up to, Cal pushed his ass against my dick. Not once, no. No mistaking this movement. He was full-on rubbing me off with his tight-as-fuck glutes.
I groaned, and when I licked up the side of his neck, so did he.
“You sure you want to talk?” I asked as I lowered my hand—mmm, his washboard abs—until I got to his jeans, then kept going. Cal’s dick strained into my palm.
He dropped his jaw as a clipped huff blasted out of him, and then his body shook. “Fuck.”