Page 20 of Kiss and Make Love

She let out a sharp breath at the friction. Delicious and just what she craved. He moved his fingers up and in, drawing out her wetness. She met his strokes with her own thrusts, fucking herself on his hand.

“Touch yourself, Professor.”

Brett wasted no time in reaching for his cock, rubbing it over his pants. “You want me to take it out?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss up her neck.

“Yes. Isn’t that why you held me back after class? To show me what I’ve been missing?” she teased, writhing against his hand.

He pulled his fingers from her, and she hated the loss of his skilled movements. Her cunt felt empty without him, and she desperately wanted Brett back inside her.

His hands were on his belt, fire in his eyes, and he slid the end out of the buckle. She needed to see him. Desperation was making her reckless, and Brett was right there with her.

“Mr. Monroe, I really believe this is unfair!” Llewellyn burst into the classroom with his head buried in his essay. “I think—” He looked up and stopped in his tracks, frozen to the floor.

Brett threw the end of his belt back through the buckle while Spencer closed her legs, slid off his desk, and tugged down her skirt.

Fucking. Llewellyn.

His backpack was half open, hanging off his shoulder. Papers were dangerously close to spilling out, and his—for fuck’s sake, was that a Star Trek lunchbox?—was banging against his backside, tethered to the strap of his book bag with a carabiner. How old was this kid?

Llewellyn took one look at the compromising position they had not-so-elegantly tried to hide, let out a screech, and bolted back out the doors.

“Shit,” they both echoed at the same time.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Brett stated, heading for the door.

Spencer reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. “No, no. I got this.”

“I really should?—”

“You’re too nice, Brett. I need to scare some sense into that little shit.”

“That may not be the way to go with Llewellyn.”

Either intimidation or sucking up to the walking inhaler. Those were the options. Oh, who was she kidding? Intimidation it was.

“I’ll meet you in your office after I talk to him,” she said. Sliding her hand down the arm she was still holding onto, she took Brett’s hand in hers, lifted his fingers to her mouth, and licked her arousal off of them. His jaw dropped.

“Give me half an hour.” She winked and headed out the door.

Now, she just had to find Llewellyn.

“I know what I saw!” Llewellyn yelled, clutching his backpack to his chest in self-defence.

It wasn’t like she was going to hurt him or anything, but she supposed her tonehadbeen a bit threatening. He was sitting in the campus cafeteria. It hadn’t been that difficult to find him when she realized it was lunchtime. It was Llewellyn—he basically lived on fried chicken.

“How would you like to see my foot up your ass?” she snarled.

“I’m in the right! You can’t scare me,” he cried, cowering in his chair in the far corner. She shook her head. Lucky coincidence he’d chosen a secluded spot to eat. Didn’t need the whole student body overhearing her trying to coerce him not to talk about her little escapade with Brett on his desk.

“Listen, Llewellyn, you gotta hold your tongue about what you saw. We’re both consenting adults, and the semester is almost over. We need you to shut up and not go spreading this around.”

“What do I get out of this deal?” He set his backpack down on the ground.

“What deal?” Spencer asked, incredulous.

“Well, if I’m going to keep my mouth shut, then I should get something in return. You guys are breaking so many rules!” he squeaked.

She stared at him. Was Llewellyn clever enough to barter for his silence? Perhaps she’d underestimated him. Probably not, but she had to give him a bit of credit for not cowing to her demands.

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