Chapter 25 #2
She laughs, but there's heat in it. “I don't want to hear about your previous students right now.”
“Jealous?”
“No.” She pulls my head down, lips brushing my ear. “Because I'm going to be your favorite.”
I pull back to look at her—hair messy, glasses slightly fogged, lips swollen from kissing—and my chest does that thing where it feels too full.
“You already are,” I admit, more honest than sexy.
Her expression softens for a moment, then returns to playful. “That's going to look great on my evaluation. 'Became professor's favorite through practical demonstration.'”
“Very practical,” I agree, lifting her slightly to scoot her back on the table. “Should we discuss office hours?”
“Are these your office hours?”
“Twenty-four seven availability for you.”
“That seems like poor work-life balance.”
“Worth it for my star student.” I step between her legs again, and she immediately pulls me back against her. “Plus, the benefits are excellent.”
“Oh yeah?” Her hands are in my hair now, tugging slightly. “What kind of benefits?”
“Dental isn't included, but I can definitely help with oral—”
She claps a hand over my mouth, laughing. “Oh my god, you did not just—”
I kiss her palm, then gently move her hand away. “Too much?”
“You're ridiculous.” But she's grinning, pulling me down for another kiss. “Good thing I like ridiculous.”
“Good thing I like brilliant girls who like to be bossed around in computer labs.”
“Mmm, instruct me more then, Professor Prescott.”
And that—the way she says it, all breathy and teasing—completely breaks what's left of my self-control.
“First lesson,” I say against her throat, “is about keeping quiet. This is still a public building.”
“I can be quiet.”
“Can you, though?” I nip at her collarbone, and she immediately gasps. “Evidence suggests otherwise.”
“That's—that's not fair, you can't use tactics and then—oh—”
“Then what?”
“I forgot what I was saying.”
“A+ so far.”
The way she laughs—breathless and delighted—sends heat straight through me. Every nerve ending suddenly very aware of where we're pressed together, how her legs are wrapped around me, how her fingers are tracing patterns on my chest that are definitely going to short-circuit my brain.
“Ethan,” she says, and just my name in her voice like that makes my blood rush south so fast I'm dizzy with it.
This is different from anyone before. With Paige, it was always about her—what she wanted, when she wanted it. But with Piper, I'm consumed by the need to catalog every sound she makes, every shiver, every time her breath catches. I want to learn her like she's my favorite subject.
“You're thinking too loud,” she murmurs, pulling me back to the present.
“Just realizing something.”
“What's that?”
I frame her face with my hands, thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “That I really, really like you. Like, an embarrassing amount.”
She smiles, soft and genuine. “Really?”
“Really.” I kiss her gently, different from before—slower, deeper, trying to say what I'm not ready to put into words yet. When I pull back, her eyes are dark behind her fogged glasses. “Can I?”
I reach for her glasses, and she nods. I slide them off carefully, setting them aside safely. Without them, she looks younger, more vulnerable. It makes my chest ache with how much I want to protect her, even though she'd probably knee me for suggesting she needs protection.
“Better?” I ask.
“Different.” She squints slightly. “You're fuzzy now.”
“I'll just have to stay close then.” I press against her, and we both inhale sharply at the contact. The friction is incredible and terrible and I need to slow down before this ends embarrassingly fast.
“You feel...” she starts, then bites her lip.
“What?”
“Ready for advanced coursework.”
I laugh against her neck. “Very ready. Possibly too ready.”
Her hands slide down my chest, stopping at my belt, and I catch her wrists gently.
“Piper, we should—we don't have to—”
“I know.” She looks up at me, direct and sure. “I want to. Unless you don't?”
“Are you seriously asking if I want to?” I gesture vaguely at myself, at the very obvious situation happening. “I'm about to combust just from you looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you're about to eat me alive.”
“Maybe I am.” She pulls one hand free, traces the line of my jaw. “Would that be so bad?”
My brain completely whites out for a second. When it comes back online, I'm kissing her like my life depends on it, hands tangled in her hair, her legs tight around me, and she's making these little sounds that are definitely going to feature in my dreams forever.
Her fingers make quick work of my belt, and I suck in a breath as she starts tugging down my zipper. My whole body feels electric, every nerve ending on high alert.
“Fuck,” I curse as her hand slips inside my boxers, wrapping around me. I'm already embarrassingly hard, have been since we started kissing on that damn table.
“I've been thinking about this.”
The idea of Piper Renner thinking about this—planning this—sends a rush of heat through me so intense I have to grip the table edge.
Holy shit. Holy. Shit.
She's on her knees in front of me, looking up with determination in her eyes, and I swear my heart stops beating for a second. My jeans are halfway down my thighs now, and she's tugging my boxers down too, and then—
“Jesus Christ.” I gasp as her mouth closes around me. Wet heat surrounds me, and my knees nearly buckle from the sensation. My hand automatically goes to her hair, tangling in those curls.
She makes this little humming sound, and the vibration nearly sends me through the ceiling. I have to bite my lip to keep from making noise that would definitely get us caught.
“Pip,” I manage, my voice strained, and she pulls back just enough to look at me, lips glistening.
“Good?” she asks, and the combination of her voice and that sight nearly undoes me completely.
“So good,” I reply. “So fucking good, but—”
She takes me back into her mouth, deeper this time, and my head falls back against the whiteboard with a soft thud. I'm trying to stay quiet, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but she's learning what I like too quickly, cataloging my reactions like she does everything else.
The wet heat, the gentle suction, the way her tongue moves—it's all too much and not enough at the same time.
“Fuck, Piper,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice down but failing miserably. When she does something with her tongue and hands, stars explode behind my eyelids.
She hums again, and the vibration shoots straight up my spine. I can feel myself getting close embarrassingly fast, heat pooling low in my stomach.
“I'm—” I start to warn her, but she just looks up at me through her lashes and takes me deeper, and that's it. I'm done.
Gone.
My orgasm hits like a freight train, white-hot pleasure crashing through me as I grip her hair too tightly, my vision going white at the edges.
She stays with me through it, swallowing everything I give her, and the sight of her taking all of me pushes another wave of pleasure through my already oversensitive body.
When I finally come back to myself, she's sitting back on her heels, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks proud of herself, satisfied in a way that makes my chest tight with something more complicated than just physical satisfaction.
“Holy shit.” I lean heavily against the whiteboard. My legs feel like jelly.
She stands, smoothing down her hoodie like she didn't just completely destroy me in a computer lab classroom. “Was that... adequate?”
The callback makes me laugh, even though I'm still catching my breath. “Adequate? Piper, that was—” I pull her against me, kissing her thoroughly. “That was fucking incredible.”
She tastes like me and mint lip balm, and I can't decide if that should be weird or if it's the hottest thing that's ever happened to me. Based on how my body is already trying to rally for round two, I'm leaning toward the latter.
“Good,” she says against my mouth, pleased. “Because I've been thinking about doing that for ages.”
“Ages?”
“Since the party. Since you got…hard just from kissing me.” Her cheeks are flushed, but she meets my eyes directly. “I liked knowing I could affect you like that.”
My blood rushes back south so fast I have to brace myself against the table.
“Your turn,” I say, voice rough as I reach for her.
She steps back, eyes gleaming with mischief. “We should probably get back to our homework. You have that essay due in”—she checks her watch—“twelve hours and seventeen minutes.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“Very.” But her smile is wicked, teasing. “I'm a responsible student, remember?”
“You can't be serious,” I groan, still trying to catch my breath. “After what you just did?”
“What?” She blinks innocently, though the effect is somewhat ruined by her kiss-swollen lips and the flush spreading across her cheeks. “I'm just being a good student. Prioritizing academics.”
I tuck myself back into my boxers and pull up my jeans, trying to regain some dignity. “Two can play at this game, Renner.”
“I look forward to seeing you try.” She retrieves her glasses from the table, sliding them back on with deliberate slowness. “But for now, Byzantine fault tolerance awaits.”
I catch her wrist before she can move away, pulling her back against me. “Not so fast.” I growl.
Her breath hitches as I back her against the whiteboard, reversing our positions. “Ethan—”
“My turn,” I whisper against her ear, enjoying the shiver that runs through her. “Fair's fair.”
“But the essay—”
“Can wait.” I slide my hand under her hoodie, feeling the warm skin of her stomach. “I'm suddenly very motivated to study something else.”
She laughs, but it turns into a gasp when my fingers trace the underside of her breast. “That's—that's not on the syllabus.”
“Extra credit,” I murmur.