Page 92 of Shattered

“It is,” I assure him, my heart pounding. “For my happiness, for our future.” I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I have one more class, and then I’m heading to the dean.” Brayden nods, excitement lighting up his face. He leans in for another kiss, but I pull back.

“I want you out of this dorm. I’m sick of guys being around you. It pisses me off. You’re moving in with me.” Brayden’s mouth drops open. “See you in class.” I smirk, and with that I walk out of Brayden’s form, ready to teach my final lesson.

Glancing around the class, I realize that this is a bittersweet moment. Although I haven’t taught here that long, it will be sad to not see the final presentations or see how well they do. Especially Brayden’s. I know already I’m going to help him with every step toward his goals, whether that is the rehab center, or his hockey future. I’m going to be by his side, supporting him every step of the way.

My eyes immediately find Brayden as everyone settles down. His smile beams down at me and I know with everything, the way he looks at me, the butterflies that take off with every smile he throws my way, this decision is by far the right one.

Kal sits beside him, typing away on his phone, but the seat to his right is empty. Tray’s transfer to another class was necessary. His resentment toward Daxton weighed heavily on him. Every time they shared a classroom, Tray’s actions spoke louder than words, whether it was a shove, a trip, or even hurling hate at Daxton. I couldn’t bear to watch Daxton crumble a little more with each blow.

So, I took Tray aside and had pulled him up on it. I explained that Daxton wasn’t to blame, but Tray’s hatred and grief had blinded him. Tray’s removal from the class became the only option.

Daxton, surprisingly, never reported Tray’s behavior. I offered my support if he wanted to, but he’d just nod and say he deserved it. Each time he uttered those words, it struck me. Now, Daxton sits at the front, lost in his own world, paying no attention to anything beyond that spot on the table.

“All right, everyone. Today, I’d love to hear about your projects. I would like a few of you to come up and share what you’ve chosen and why. Let’s discuss our work—maybe we’ll even spark ideas and support each other. So”—I clap my hands, scanning the students—“who wants to go first?”

Matilda’s hand shoots up, and it doesn’t surprise me.

“The stage is yours, Matilda,” I say, stepping aside. She eagerly jumps up from her desk, bouncing on her tiptoes as she faces the front. Matilda proceeds to tell the class about her nonprofit veterinary and animal shelter for homeless animals. She envisions a team scouring the streets of Michigan, providing urgent care and rehabilitation for these vulnerable animals. Her passion shines through—words tumbling out, voice rising with excitement. It warms my heart because this is what it’s all about.

Goosebumps prickle my arms, and my heart races. I can practically feel Brayden’s eyes searing into my skin. When I steal a glance at him, he’s already grinning. Kal, on the other hand, shoots me a look, then shifts his gaze to Brayden, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Kal has warmed up to me, but he’s still a broody ass boy.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I ignore it, trying to focus on Matilda’s ongoing talk. But the damn thing vibrates again. Frowning, I pull it out, glancing at the screen, and nearly drop it. Clearing my throat, I place the phone on my lap. My eyes lock onto Brayden. He stares straight ahead, a model A class student.

I gulp as my dick hardens. I glance back at the screen.

B:

I know how much you love having pictures of me, so I took this for you last night.

There, on the screen, is Brayden’s dick, swollen with the tip shining with pre-cum and all I want to do is lick it. Brayden’s large hand wrapped around the bottom, as the veins bulge likethey’re about to burst. My balls tingle as I stare at it and my mouth waters and then I nearly drop my phone when the class erupts into claps. I clear my throat, clapping and smiling at Matilda, telling her thank you. As the silence lingers, I understand why no one volunteers to share their presentation. It’s nerve-racking to stand before your peers and present something entirely of your own making.

“All right,” I say, trying to ease the tension. “If no one wants to share, that’s perfectly fine.” I know Brayden isn’t ready, and I don’t blame him. Heads remain down, avoiding eye contact with me.

“OK, OK.” I chuckle. “In that case, you can either stay here and do more research, or I’m happy to end class early.”

The room erupts into motion. Chairs squeak against the floor. Hushed voices fill the air.

“Take care, everyone.” I smile, realizing this is the end. No more teaching. Daxton grabs his bag and stands up. “Hey, Daxton.” I pause, meeting his dark-rimmed eyes.

“Please take care of yourself,” I tell him, my voice gentle. “And remember, none of this is your fault—none.” He nods, shoulders slumped.

“See ya,” he mumbles, navigating through the classroom as people rush past him. He allows himself to collide with the wall, as if he doesn’t even feel it.

I spot Brayden descending the stairs. “See you around, sir!” he calls out, saluting me with a wink.

“Actually,” I say, “I need you to stay behind.”

“Damn,” Brayden sarcastically exclaims. Kal bursts into laughter as his fists-bumps Brayden before raising his hand to me. As I push a chair against the door, I notice Brayden’s hooded eyes follow my every move.

“You think that was funny what you just did?” I pace toward him, grabbing his hands, and rub it over my trousers, so he can feel how hard I am for him right now.

“It got the response I wanted.”

“You were already skating on thin ice but after earlier, having another boy in your dorm room when I’m not there. Tsk-tsk. Now Brayden, you are skating on shattered ice.” I smile

“You best get over on that desk. I want your pants down and your ass fucking up,” I growl. Brayden’s eyes dilate and he gulps, pacing over to the desk. He hesitantly drops his jogging pants and then his boxers. He leans over the table as a small moan breaks through, probably from his dick rubbing against the desk. I walk up behind him, undoing my belt and pulling my dick out.

“This is going to be rough and quick.” I gather spit in my mouth and let it dribble on to his puckered hole while rubbing the head of my dick against it. His reaction causes his hole to pulsate, so I apply more spit to my dick and continue to rub it all around his opening.

---