Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I’m in hell.
That’s the only explanation for this. I haven’t been an awful person. I don’t litter, I don’t talk about people behind their backs. I don’t hurt animals or steal things. Sure, my job can be kind of violent, but the players know that going into the game, so they’re expecting to be tackled.
So why am I being punished?
Okay, so I’m not actually being punished. Sitting behind Sutton, getting to inhale her intoxicating mango scent every time I breathe, and being so close to her body, isn’t really bad.
Except for the fact that my dick has been hard ever since I sat down behind her.
It’s snaking down my pant leg, with no sign of deflating anytime soon. I’m terrified if she sits back even an inch, or looks back, she’ll feel or see exactly what being close to her curvaceous body does to me.
Why did my dumb ass have to wear black fucking sweatpants?
We’ve gone over the basics of pottery today, and the second hour, we got to hand form a few pieces of clay at a different station.
Sutton twisted her clay into a coaster shape, and I formed a lopsided heart that I said was going to be a Christmas ornament for my mom, but will probably end up in the trash because it looks like shit.
Sutton tried to hold in her giggles when she saw how awful I am, teasing me about how I’m a natural. When she finally let them free after the third time my clay fell apart, it was like music to my ears.
I’d gladly embarrass myself every day in order to have her make that sound again. I’m secure enough in myself to know I talk a big game, but crafts are actually fucking hard, and clay isn’t as easy to work with as I thought it would be.
We’ve got thirty minutes left in class, and Hazel has been directing us on how to center the clay on the wheel so we can get a feel for the machine. Sutton and I just switched places so she can try it, since she wanted to see it demonstrated by me before she attempted.
It’s a good thing I wore an old t-shirt and we have aprons, because I pretty much immediately splattered clay all over myself. It got Sutton to giggle again, though.
Worth it.
I’ve moved my chair out from behind Sutton to be able to see her profile.
Her face is set in a determined scowl as she follows Hazel’s directions and starts working the clay as the wheel spins.
A few stray pieces of hair have fallen out of her artfully messy bun, framing her face.
She tries to bat them away with her upper arm since everything below her elbows is covered in clay, but it doesn’t do anything to help.
I reach up and gently tuck the strand of hair behind her ear, silently preening when she sucks in a sharp breath. Her flustered smile hits me right in the chest, making my heart stutter on its next beat.
She looks so goddamn pretty right now. More free and relaxed than I think I’ve ever seen her, and her excitement over everything we’ve done is contagious. Any worries I had about things being awkward after yesterday are long dispelled.
If only this goddamn hard on would go away.
After Sutton’s gotten the hang of the wheel and molding the clay, Hazel claps her hands to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright, now I want everyone to sit behind their partners. As close as you can, please. Decide who’ll sit in front and who will sit behind.”
Shit…shit shit shit—
Swallowing my groan, I follow the instructions, moving my chair back behind Sutton and sliding in as close as I can while keeping some space still. She glances over her shoulder at me, biting her lip again.
“Do you want me to be in the back?”
“I’m taller than you, so it makes sense for me to be here.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
I gently squeeze her hip. “I’m positive.”
“Now that everyone’s settled, I want each of you to put your hands on the clay and start spinning the wheel. Let’s see if you can work together to make a trinket dish that I’ll fire after our class, so you can glaze them next week!”
I feel more than I see Sutton’s body freeze, mirroring my own actions.
Up until now, we’ve been doing things side by side, never really touching.
I don’t want her to think my hesitancy comes from her, so I snake my arms under hears and scoot in close enough to press my front to her back, praying to whatever will listen that she won’t feel my dick.
“Is this okay?” I whisper in her ear.
Goosebumps pebble across her arms as she nods her confirmation. Her hands hover over the clay, clearly unsure of what to do.
I glance around at the other couples, some are easily molding their hands together to form the shape they want for their trinket dish, and some are having a more difficult time, devolving into laughter.
One couple is clearly having a battle for dominance, but they’ve been snapping at each other all night.
“Put your hands under mine,” I instruct softly. “I’ll help guide you, but you can control the pace, okay?”
“Okay.”
With shaky movements, we fit our hands together, my palm covering the back of hers. Her skin is so soft, even with the slight film of the clay. Another jolt of electricity shocks where our skin touches. I grit my teeth and ignore it, slowly moving our hands to start shaping the clay.
I expected this to be more difficult. Trying to throw clay by myself wasn’t the easiest task, so I assumed throwing another person into the mix was going to be a challenge, but things are so easy with Sutton.
We work better together than we did separately, easily molding the clay into the shape we want.
“This isn’t so bad, is it?” She whispers, turning her face over her shoulder.
Our eyes clash, our lips are only a few inches apart.
It would take nothing at all to lean in and kiss her.
She snaps her face forward again when she realizes how close we are, and repositions in her seat, which of course, means her ass is now rubbing directly against my already painfully hard cock.
“No,” I rasp. “It’s not bad at all.” If she can feel my situation, she doesn’t show it, and I’m thankful for it.
Hazel instructs us to mold the clay into a tower-like shape before smashing it down to make the trinket dish. I can’t take my eyes off the way Sutton’s hands look beneath mine, wrapping around the long, thick mass of clay.
My fucking brain goes to the dirty places I’ve been avoiding, wondering if she’d ask me to teach her how I like to be touched. It wouldn’t look exactly like this, but it would be damn close.
Fuck.
My dick jumps at the thought, and Sutton suddenly sits up. “Um, I need to use the restroom. Can you finish shaping it?”
“Sure. Everything okay?”
“Yep! I’ll be back in a minute.”
I slide back so she can slip out, trying to shake off the mental image. We were too close together, and Sutton smells so fucking good. She’s soft, sweet, and my body is ready to beg her to be mine, even if it’s just once.
I’d give anything to worship her for a night.
I want more than one night with Sutton Brady, though. There’s no limit to my desire for her, even if I’ve been denying it to anyone who brings it up.
I take her place at the wheel, and finish shaping the trinket dish while she’s gone. I was going for a perfect circular shape, but it’s more of an… oval-rectangle shape instead.
Oh well. It has character. At least my boner went away while she was in the bathroom.
Sutton comes back just as I stop spinning the wheel, her hairline a little damp.
“Well? What do you think of our trinket dish?” I wave my hands like I’m showing off a rare artifact.
She rolls her lips inward and nods, trying to bite back an amused smile. “It looks good?”
“Was that a question?”
“No…”
“You’re almost as bad at lying as I am at pottery.”
“It’s not bad! It’s unique.”
“Well next time, you can finish shaping our project, then.”
She blinks at me. “You want to come back? Even though it’s a couple’s class?”
“Duh. I want to make a cereal bowl, and we don’t get to do that until the fourth class.” Unless she’s the one who doesn’t want to come back. “Unless you don’t want to come back?”
“No, I do. I didn’t want you to feel obligated, that’s all.”
I want to wrap her in a hug, but I’m still covered in clay, so I bend down to look her in the eyes using one knuckle to tilt her chin up. “You’re not an obligation, Sutt. I want to be here.”
With you.
After I got home, I took the world’s coldest shower to try and cool the lust burning hot through my bloodstream.
It didn’t work.
I tried to focus on my social media guilty pleasure: makeup tutorials, but even those didn’t hold my attention. I chugged a glass of water, tried to play a video game, and even thought about calling my brother, but it was almost eleven on the East coast, so ultimately I decided not to do that.
I’ve been trying to go to sleep for almost an hour, but I can’t stop replaying the moment Sutton’s ass rubbed against me during our class, and my cock will not soften.
Kicking my blankets off, I glare at the tent in my boxer briefs, and, like a weirdo, scold it softly. “I can’t jack off right now when all I can think about is Sutton. She’s my friend, my brother’s ex, and my coworker. She just ended a two year relationship. She’s not… she’s not ready to date.”
My body doesn’t listen, though.
Neither does my brain. It starts conjuring images of Sutton’s hands wrapped around the clay, but the clay slowly morphs into my penis, piercing and all. Would she gasp when she saw the silver pierced through the head? I’d let her play with it all she wanted, as long as she put her hands on me.
Letting out a frustrated, horny groan, I give in and wrap my hand around my shaft, hissing at the heat pulsing through it. I’m so sensitive from being hard for so long, I know I won’t last more than a few strokes.
Probably for the best, because I feel like a jackass. After watching Sutton do yoga, my brain is running away with ideas of how I could bend her body to make her see stars. There are positions I haven’t tried, but god, I want to with her.
“Fuuuuuuck,” I moan.
Spitting in my hand to make the glide easier, I imagine slipping inside Sutton’s wet heat. I’ve never had sex without a condom, but in my imagination, there’s no barrier between us. I’d feel every inch of her pussy mold to my cock, and she’d feel every inch of me until I’m buried to the hilt.
I squeeze myself tighter, trying to mimic the way I’d want her to clench around me. I finally let my imagination run wild with all the things I’d say to her.
That’s it, gorgeous. Show me just how much you like it.
Fuck, you’re perfect. So wet for me.
Your pussy’s been aching for a nice, fat cock to fill it up, hasn’t it? Don’t worry, I’ve got you.
Never gonna feel empty again.
Simply imagining Sutton moaning my name, and squeezing the shit out of me, has white ropes of cum covering my palm and stomach. I strip off my shirt to wipe myself off, then go wash my hands and put on a new shirt before settling into bed.
I may have come, but I don’t feel satisfied.