Page 14 of Tenure

What the fuck is wrong with me.

“So, what do you say?”

I shake my head, trying to focus. “Um, sorry, what?”

“A party? Do you want to come?”

“Sure. I’m in.”

He grins and the group all walks off together, shoving each other and laughing, a few of the girls eyeing me with interest.

“Are you a math major?” Graham asks.

I try to remain vague. “Undecided, for now . . .”

“Undecided but you signed up for a class with McGrath?”

“Fuck that guy though!” one of Graham’s friends says. “I have no fucking clue what’s going on, and he looks like he’ll stab me with a letter opener if I ask a fucking question.”

“I already dropped that class,” another says, and a few nod.

I stay quiet, and one of the girls drops back, matching my pace and watching me out of the corner of her eye.

“Kiernan, right?”

I nod.

“Can you picture him naked? McGrath?”

I stop dead, my heart flatlining, knees threatening to buckle.

“What?”

“God, I can’t stop imagining it,” she says wistfully, looping her arm through mine. “I’m Tanya.”

I don’t care,I almost say, but I plaster a smile on my face as we all head outside and across a parking lot.

I need a fucking drink.

11

James

The rest of the day is a blur. I can’t concentrate, can’t do anything but picture her hair wrapped around my wrist as I slide my dick into her slick cunt.

I’m irritable, have been rocking a semi all day that’s chafing against my fly since I ditched the boxers, and try as I might I still can’t drown out her words from Monday.

I’m still in high school.

I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. I’ve never fucked a student before, let alone a fuckingminor.I swallow, hoping to God she’s eighteen, but I have a sick, sinking feeling that she’s not.

And still, I keep picturing her on her knees, lips wrapped around my cock, those big brown eyes staring up at me as her wetness drips down her thighs.

I should tell Tess to come this weekend after all. I need to work some of this off.

I like Tess. She’s . . . efficient. I wouldn’t exactly call her cold, and the woman definitely does her yogalates. But she’s transactional. We both know what we want. A physically fit partner, someone who you can demand alotfrom. And absolutelyzerofucking strings. I don’t know a goddamn thing about the woman, nor vice versa, and apart from one very brief conversation where I clarified out loud that that was what she was after and she confirmed she was, we’ve never had to speak about it again. Perfect scenario, really. At least until recently.

I pull out my phone to give her a call, but the screensaver is a picture of . . . Kiernan?

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