3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Mia
I have one class with him today.
One.
I can get through one class without being a brat. Right?
Wrong. Totally wrong.
I’ve always been a brat, but he brings out the worst in me.
“Miss Whitlock,” he grates out. “Do the assignment I have set, or don’t and get zero. The choice really is yours.” I am definitely testing his patience.
“I didn’t have a problem with any of Professor James’ projects.”
“So it’s just me, then? How delightful.” His sarcasm isn’t lost on me, and it’s also a trait I find ridiculously attractive in a man. There’s just something about that dry humor that gets me going. There’s a lot about Hudson that gets me going.
“Guess you’re just lucky.”
“Carry on and you’ll be lucky enough to see me after class.” Now why does that threat sound sexual?
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I thought my words were quiet enough for him to not hear me. Apparently, I was wrong.
“Miss Whitlock.” His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. “I am a patient man, but there is a line. Don’t cross it,” he warns.
“Yes, sir,” I mumble. I swear I hear him mutter that it’s not sir he wants me to call him, but I must be hearing things.
***
I take another sip of my cocktail and look at the three shocked faces staring at me.
“Mia,” Bella whispers. “You’re going to get yourself in serious trouble.”
“I know.” My head drops into my hands as I groan. “I don’t know what it is about him. I’ve never been like this before.”
Harper snorts into her own cocktail. “Sure.” She giggles. “You’re an angel. The sweetest one of the four of us.”
“I know I’m a brat, but it’s totally amplified with him. I am incapable of being nice or doing what I’m told.”
“I got that way with Reed, just before we both flipped and finally gave in to what we were feeling.”
“It’s not like that with us. We’ve only met twice. Yes, I’m attracted to him, but there’s none of the sexual tension like there was between you two.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t want to fuck him,” Ava pipes up.
“Of course I want to fuck him. You’ve all seen a photo of him. Who wouldn’t want to fuck that?”
“Mia, this isn’t someone you can get under, fuck, and move on.”
“I know, I know. I just think he’d be a really good fuck. He screams experienced.”
“You need to swipe right. Get yourself a man and get off.”
Harper’s right. I need to get laid.
***
After two more cocktails I’m swiping through the app, still yet to swipe right on a man.
“What was wrong with him?”
“Too short.”
“You got that from a picture?”
“Mmhmm.” I pause at the next photo. There’s something about him that reminds me of a certain college Dean. I swipe right.
“Finally,” Harper mutters from beside me. My cell pings seconds later letting me know that we’re a match, so I open up the message icon and send him a few words.
A few minutes later I slide out of the booth. “Later bitches. I’m gonna go get me some.”
“Be safe,” they chorus after me.
This is what I need; a few orgasms, a brief connection, and then to be able to walk away and never see them again.
“Miss Whitlock?” You cannot be serious. I turn toward the voice that belongs to none other than the man I’m trying to forget by getting under another.
“Dean Davenport.” He’s dressed in faded jeans and a dark blue V-neck jumper, and he looks good enough to eat.
“Are you leaving?” His eyes rove over my outfit. I have a spaghetti strap crop top with tight skinny jeans and heels on, he’s definitely never seen me in anything this revealing. His eyes darken as he stares a beat too long at my exposed skin.
“Mmhmm,” I sing. “You can buy me a drink another time. Tonight, I have a date with a handful of orgasms. Hopefully this one knows how to find my clit.”
“Christ,” he mutters as his fingers yet again pinch the bridge of his nose. I have a feeling he’ll be doing that around me a lot.
“Have fun,” I call as I turn on my heel and begin to strut away, but before I can get more than a couple of steps, a large hand wraps around my elbow.
“Who are you meeting?”
“A guy, I don’t really swing the other way.”
“A boyfriend?” Is he jealous?
“No. I don’t do the boyfriend thing.”
“You know this guy?”
“Never met him before.”
“Fuck,” he bites out as his grip tightens on my arm. “You can’t just go off with a stranger.”
“I assure you, I can. That’s exactly what the app’s for.”
“You met him on an app?”
“Mmhmm. Now, unless you’re the one who wants to try and find my clit, I suggest you let go of my arm and carry on with your evening.”
He holds my stare for a beat, then another, and I honestly have a moment of wondering if he’s going to take me up on my offer. My pulse pounds at the thought, but then, much to my disappointment, he lets me go.
“Your friends know where you’re going?”
“Always.” I salute him before turning away and heading to where I’m meeting my hookup for the night. I already know it won’t be his face I’ll be seeing, though. No, it’s the man I just walked away from that I’ll be picturing tonight.
***
Another disappointment.
Another man who can’t find a woman’s clit.
Another man who focuses on his own pleasure before his partner’s.
Even picturing Hudson didn’t help. I’m orgasmless and more wound up than I was before.
I think I need to join a convent.