Chapter 7
SEVEN
PRESTON
“Okay, so you’ll be driving home the Saturday before Thanksgiving, right?” Paris says into the phone as I make my way towards the campus library.
“Yep, that’s the plan.”
“Are you bringing Chris this time?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure he’s going back to Minnesota to be with his family.” Freshman year Chris went home with me for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Last year he came with me for Thanksgiving because his parents couldn’t afford to bring him home for both holidays so close together. There were a lot of students who stayed around campus for Thanksgiving, so he wouldn’t have been alone, but I didn’t see any reason for him not to come home with me and meet my family, and of course they had fallen in love with him. I’d brought him with me again over spring break. While most college students dream of Florida and endless partying, I just wanted to spend time with my family, and Chris was eager to join me and just relax.
Paris was a junior in high school and I think he thought of Chris as a big brother. They got along well and Chris was good to him. Even taught him how to ice skate over Thanksgiving break, which I had failed epically at.
“Right, yeah, that makes sense.” He sounds disappointed. “Hey, maybe we can go sledding? Or build a snowman? Ooh, or skating, now that I know how. I have new skates, too.”
“Are they pink?” I ask, knowing my brother.
“They are,” he says, “how did you know?”
I chuckle. “Lucky guess. How are Mom and Dad?”
“They’re good. Mom’s already done Christmas shopping for everyone. Of course she was done by Halloween, and they’re having their annual fight about when to put the tree up.”
It’s the same thing every year. Mom wants it up before Thanksgiving, Dad doesn’t. It’s not really a fight, and Mom always wins because Dad doesn’t really care and wants to see her happy, but they go through it anyway. It’s a tradition at this point.
“How’s school? You got anyone special I need to know about?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you I was engaged? The wedding is in the spring. You’ll be the flower boy of course. I can’t decide on pink or white for the tuxes though.”
“All right, smart aleck, forget I asked.”
He laughs. “No one special. I’m kinda a lot, you know. I don’t think most people know what to do with me.”
“Hey, you’re perfect just the way you are, and someday, someone as amazing as you is going to realize that and sweep you off your tiny feet.”
He laughs. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Hey, I’m at the library now, so I gotta go. Love you, squirt.”
“Love you, too, butthead.”
I laugh and end the call. It’s fucking freezing and I welcome the warmth as I step inside, the smell of old paper, vanilla, and earth surrounding me.
I make my way up to the third floor and grin when I see him sitting at a table on the other side of the room. There’s several other tables around him with other students reading, studying, and typing, most of them with headphones on. Jackson stands out a bit with his jet black hair and leather jacket, and all that jewelry and makeup. His earrings and rings are sexy as fuck. I’m a fan of all of it. I don’t think he has any clue how captivating he is.
I stare at him creepily from my spot by the door, before making my way over to where he’s sitting. He has his laptop open in front of him and doesn’t notice me until I’ve pulled out a chair across from him and taken a seat. Then he finally looks up and takes one of his earphones out of his ear, looking a bit startled to see me.
“What are you doing here?” he whispers.
“Jousting practice,” I tell him, and he blinks. I laugh quietly. “It’s a library. I’m studying.”
He narrows his eyes. “And you just happened to be here and on the same floor as me at the same time?”
I flush. “I mean, I may have seen you coming in here on my way to my last class, and I may have come here in the hopes that you would still be here and I would see you, but none of that happened if that sounds as creepy as I think it does.”
He smirks and those sapphire eyes twinkle. God he’s pretty. I could stare at him all day.
“Do you want me to leave?”
He looks at me for a second and then bites his lip and shakes his head. Jesus, my dick twitches every damn time he does that lip biting thing. He smiles as he goes back to his work.
I grin and pull out my own laptop. “What are you working on?” I ask him.
“Short story for my creative writing class.”
“That sounds cool. Is that your major?”
“Minor,” he tells me with a sexy smile. “Majoring in theater.”
“That’s awesome. I don’t have a creative bone in my body.”
He shrugs. “I could never do phys ed, or biology.” He gives an exaggerated shiver and I laugh.
“What do you want to do? Act or write, or both?”
He seems surprised that I’m still asking him questions, still talking, but his eyes still have that twinkle when he answers. “Either, or both. Anything in theater, really. I’d be happy with stage management, writing, directing, acting. Anything. I just want to be involved in theater in some way.”
“You must be good. I’ve never paid much attention to the theater department, but I will now.” I wink at him and he flushes and grins. “When’s your show?”
“Opening night is the 14th.”
“What play are you doing?”
He’s smiling now, and it’s captivating. “T he Rocky Horror Picture Show . I’ve loved it since I was in middle school and wanted to be in it forever.”
“Oh, that’s awesome. What part?”
“Dr. Frank-N-Furter.”
“That would probably mean more to me if I’d ever seen it,” I admit with a sheepish grin.
His eyes go wide. “You’ve never seen it? Not even the movie?”
I shake my head.
“Well, if you do see it, the live show is way better because of the audience participation. It’s honestly a ton of fun.”
I love seeing him be so enthusiastic about something. He comes alive talking about theater, and I love it. Love learning about the real him. The one who’s not only sexy, but talented, and passionate, and driven. “Sounds like it.”
There’s a pause and then he says, “What about you? What are you doing when you graduate?”
“Med school, but probably coaching on the side. That’s the plan, anyway. We’ll see.”
“I figured with phys-ed as your major and biology as your minor you would be getting a degree in PT or something.”
“Uh, yeah, that would make sense, but no.” I clear my throat. “I originally just wanted to work with high schoolers, coaching or teaching physical education, or both. But the summer before my senior year of high school both my parents got diagnosed with cancer, and it really sucked, feeling so fucking helpless, watching them go through all that shit, and wishing there was something I could do, and I swore I wouldn’t ever feel that way again, so I decided on med school.”
He’s staring at me and I realized I’ve just unloaded a shit ton of stuff on him that maybe he wasn’t ready for, and didn’t need to hear from his fuck buddy. “Sorry,” I say, a bit embarrassed. “That was a lot.”
He shakes his head. His voice is soft when he speaks. “It’s fine, I just… I’m sorry about your parents. That sounds really hard.”
“Yeah, it was for a long time. But we made it. They’re both okay now.”
He nods. “You were born in 2002, right? I assume that’s what Curious2002 means?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’re 22, but you’re a junior?”
“Yeah, I waited an extra year before starting college. My parents were doing better but I didn’t feel ready to leave yet, and my younger brother was having a hard time, so I stayed and worked, took care of things around the house, that kind of thing.”
“Sounds like they were lucky to have you. You guys must be close.”
I can’t help noticing the somber way he says those words, almost with a note of longing, and I wonder what it means. Is he not close with his family? My parents and my brother are the most important people in the world to me. I can’t imagine my life without them, and they’ve always supported me in everything. Taking care of Paris, taking care of them, there was no question about it. It was incredibly hard, but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
“We are.”
He gives me a smile but it seems almost pained. When he goes back to his work I decide I should really do the same.
After about ten minutes of the heaviness still being in the air, I decide to try and lighten things up a bit. I crumple up a piece of paper and lob it at him. It hits him in the face and he sputters and glares at me, then throws it right back. His smirk is there again and I count that as a win. I slide my foot over and nudge his underneath the table, and he chuckles and taps mine back, shaking his head and grinning.
I slide off my sneaker and then move my foot over to his again, bringing it a little higher and brushing it against his leg, below his knee. He jolts a little and I wonder if I’ve gone too far or made him uncomfortable when those blue eyes lock on me, then glance under the table. But the next thing I know he’s sliding his shoe off and nudging my foot with his. Honest to God, I don’t think I’ve ever played footsie with someone before and it’s hella fun. I rub my foot on top of his, and then he does the same to me, and fucking hell, this is turning me on. I nudge his toes and he lifts them, and we press our feet together, playing with each other’s toes, neither one of us doing homework, but still staring at our screens like we are. There’s a grin a mile wide on his face and I’m sure mine is just as big.
I reach over and slide my socked foot up his leg, then set it on his lap, slouching a bit in my chair in order to reach, then brush my heel against his thigh. He grips my foot and slouches too, and I jolt when I feel his rock hard cock against me. Oh shit.
I see his eyes darken as he stares at me and my breath hitches. Then he’s shoving my foot aside and not a moment later I feel his foot sliding up my leg, and pressing against my dick. It jerks against his foot and I bite my tongue to hold back my groan. He keeps rubbing against me and I find myself gripping the table to keep from humping his fucking foot. Shit it feels good. Way better than it has any right to.
He grins and I know he has no intention of stopping. Fuck. My dick is leaking and pressing painfully against my zipper. I’m so fucking aroused. And I want to come so badly, but this is a fucking library, and while a few other students have left by now, we are not the only ones in here by a long shot.
Then, suddenly, he’s pulling his foot away and leaving the table. I sit there, dumbstruck, wondering what on earth he’s doing since he left all of his things here, when my phone buzzes.
Tinkerbell: I’m over in the back corner, get the fuck over here
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I slide my shoe back on and slowly make my way out of my seat, acting as casual as I can with a raging hard on in a public space, very thankful that the jersey I’m wearing covers my crotch, and make my way over to him.
Before I reach him someone grabs my arm and yanks me into an aisle. Then Jackson’s lips are on mine and he’s shoving me back against the book stack, kissing me fiercely. I grunt as he devours me, letting him in the second his tongue slides along my lower lip. God, yes. He reaches down and grips my cock through my jeans and I let out a very undignified squeak, then moan, thrusting into his hand.
“I thought you were in the back corner,” I gasp, when he finally lets me up for air. Shit, my body is thrumming with need, my dick aching, goosebumps breaking out across my skin.
“I got impatient.” He’s on me again, his tongue delving down my throat as he presses up against me. The feel of his cock against mine is driving me wild.
“Take your dick out,” he orders as he unbuttons his jeans. I catch sight of his bright orange lace panties and almost swallow my tongue as my dick jerks.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “Please be wearing those tonight.”
He glares at me and I realize I have not done as he asked. It’s his own fault for distracting me though.
“Right,” I say, and undo my pants, shoving them down to my thighs, along with my briefs which have a rather large wet spot on them. He steps closer, his own gorgeous cock out now.
“We could get in a lot of trouble for this if we get caught.”
He ignores me, sticking his palm in front of my face. “Lick.” I do a few times, and when his hand is covered in my saliva he grips both of our cocks.
“Nnnnngg,” I groan, gripping his hips. “Holy shit.”
He starts to stroke us in tandem. “Can you be quiet?” he murmurs, his forehead pressed to mine, our bodies as close as they can be while he works us in his fist, our precum mingling together, mixing so that it’s coating both of our cocks now as he uses it as lube. Jesus, that’s hot. His cock feels fucking amazing pressed against mine, the friction insane.
“Unlikely,” I admit, my breaths picking up, nipples hard, and heart racing.
“Try,” he says, then strokes us faster, and I know I won’t last long, or be able to come without making noise.
“Shit,” I gasp, gripping him harder as my balls draw up. “Jax.”
“Kiss me,” he says, and I do, my release barreling up on me the instant his lips meet mine. I’m whimpering into his mouth as my dick releases spurt after spurt of cum all over his hand and cock, and when his dick pulses against mine seconds later, a second spurt of cum shoots out to join the first.
We hear voices and footsteps moving in our direction as we’re coming down from the highs of our orgasms.
“Shit,” we say together, stuffing our very messy selves back into our underwear and pulling our pants up.
Jackson takes my hand and pulls me with him before anyone sees us. We stop when we’re far enough away, standing at the end of one of the rows, resting our heads back, laughing softly and grinning like idiots.
Hours later he has me up against my bedroom wall, my legs wrapped around his waist and his cock buried deep inside me as he fucks me into oblivion. I’d grabbed his face the second he walked through the door earlier tonight and kissed him desperately, then begged him to spank me, and he hadn’t stopped until I had tears sliding down my cheeks, my ass thrumming deliciously and my cock painfully hard. I got even harder when he spun me around, gripped my thighs, and hauled me up, pressing me against the wall. He’s stronger than he looks, and him manhandling me is seriously hot.
“Oh, shit,” I moan as he thrusts into me again and again, pegging my prostate, my dick pressed against his abdomen as he moves, giving my cock the perfect friction. I can’t stop rutting against him as he thrusts inside me, my body alive with want, and need, and all consuming pleasure.
“That’s it, beautiful,” he rasps. “Use me. Make yourself feel good.”
“Jax,” I whine, gripping his neck with one hand and his hair with the other, my skin flushed and sweat slick, chasing my release. I tilt my head back so it’s resting on the wall, eyes closed as I grind against him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
He growls and thrusts harder. “Look at you,” he snarls. “So fucking hard for me. So goddamn desperate.”
I groan.
“You want it all, don’t you, beautiful? My hands on you, my cock buried inside you, filling you up. You’re such a fucking whore for me, aren’t you, gorgeous?”
“Shit, yes,” I gasp. “Fuck, I’m gonna come. So good.”
I hear him snarling and then his mouth is on my nipple and he’s sucking hard as his body tenses and his cock pulses inside me. I cry out, clinging to him as his cum fills the condom inside me, my ass clenching around him and my dick shooting my release all over his chest.
Fuck, that was intense. We rest our foreheads together as we catch our breath, and then our lips meet and we kiss for several seconds before he slides out of me and steps back, setting me back on the floor. God, my legs feel like jello and my ass is aching, but it feels so damn good.
He looks amazing covered in my cum. I want more than anything for him to stay, let me hold him, press kisses to his heated skin as we drift to sleep in each other’s arms. I want to wake up next to him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. But I know he won’t stay. Even when he looks at me in a way that tells me he wants more, he won’t let himself have it, and I wish I knew why.
“Lie down and let me put some lotion on your ass,” he says, sliding the condom off and tying it before tossing it in the wastebasket by the bed.
I do as he says and he returns from the bathroom a moment later with the lotion. I notice he’s cleaned himself off too.
He sits beside me and smooths the lotion over my bare ass. “You okay?” he asks, and my chest warms. “We went a little harder on the spankings this time. Might be sore for a while.”
“I’m good,” I promise. “I liked it. Loved it, really.” I’d needed it. Craved it, and he was amazing. I don’t know what it is about being spanked that I love so much but it’s my favorite thing, and it makes my dick so damn hard.
He smiles. “Good.” He finishes up with lotion, returns it to the bathroom, and then dresses himself as I watch. He didn’t wear his bright orange panties tonight because they were dirty after our adventure in the library, but he did have a purple pair on that were just as sexy. I didn’t see him in them for more than a couple seconds before I was against the wall with my ass out, though. I really wish I could enjoy them on him for longer. He’s so damn beautiful, and they look amazing against his pale skin, cupping his dick and balls so perfectly and showing off his incredible ass cheeks.
I have butterflies fluttering in my stomach when he finishes dressing and then returns to my side and kisses me tenderly.
“Goodnight, doll,” he whispers.
And then he’s gone.