Page 60 of Tenure

Goddamit, I really am going to come in my pants . . .

“What subgroup?” Samir asks, but I can see him looking over his notes and realizing he completely ignored an entire principle.

“That’s enough for today. I want notes and ten more pages on your thesis topics by Wednesday. I will review, we will discuss next Saturday. Now get out.”

Everyone shuffles around collecting their things, mumble their goodbyes, and scurry off except for Shannon who hovers awkwardly, blocking my view of Kiernan.

“I was wondering if maybe we could meet sometime this week? To go over my thesis development. I’m not sure . . .”

Kiernan’s head snaps up atmeet sometime this week,her eyes zeroing in on Shannon’s back despite the sheen of sweat coating her forehead.

I don’t know what Shannon’s saying, and I don’t care. I tuned her out. A year ago.

“Shannon, your thesis is developing fine. Send me the pages like everyone else. We’ll talk in class.”

“But—”

“He said you’ll talk in class,” Kiernan says, her voice quiet but sharp.

Shannon turns around to say something, but I put my hand on Shannon’s back and lead her towards the door.

She glances at Kiernan one more time, and leaves without a word.

I look back at my girl, and she’s staring at the doorway like she’d like to burn a hole in it.God she’s fucking perfect . . .

“I need to be in you. Now.” My voice is ragged, desperate, but I don’t care.

“Yes, sir,” she says, and I almost lose it.

She stands, eyes fluttering as she does, listing forward like she’s drunk. I hurry over and grip her arm, practically dragging her behind me.

“Where can we go?” she pants.

“My office . . .”

“Where’s your office?”

“Next building.”

“TOO FAR!” she shouts in a whisper, and I take a hard left, shoving open the door in the hallway on our right, a small janitorial supply closet. “This is better,” she says, gripping the front of my shirt and yanking me towards her. Her tongue is down my throat before the door’s even closed all the way.

We kiss passionately, wildly, hands on each other’s faces and necks, groaning into each other’s mouths.

“You’re fucking brilliant,” I mutter, pulling at her hoodie and yanking it over her head. “That was a master’s class and you—”

“No more math,” she interrupts, her voice pleading. “Please. I need you.”

My heart flatlines.I need you. I need you.Why does that feel so fucking good?I need you.

I hold her face in my hands, a few inches away, and stroke her cheekbones with my thumbs.

“Whatever you need, baby,” I murmur.

She leans in to kiss me, slower this time, sweet, and slides her sweats off, letting them drop on the ground. She’s naked and my hands make their way down her neck, shoulders, arms, then across to her breasts, squeezing and kneading until she’s moaning my name into my mouth.

“Please,” she begs.

“Okay, baby,” I whisper. But to my surprise, she turns around, putting her hands on the wall like she did when I put the plug in.

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