Page 12 of Unforgivable

I nearly choked on my spit as my face burned with annoyance and embarrassment at the ridiculous conversation we were having a little too loudly.

“No, you uncultured swine. She was an old Hollywood Starlet. How have you never heard of her? You know what? Nevermind. It's not important. Violet eyes are a thing. Now you've learned something,” I forced out in an indignant rush.

“Yep, my scholarship money has been well spent. That's the type of shit they should teach you here.”

“I swear, people like you are the reason warning labels like 'don't eat the paint' exist,” I mumbled, eyes flying to the ceiling as if the answer to getting rid of him was glued up there.

“Ouch! That wasn't very nice, Sweetness. I thought we were trying to be friends now?” Hawk taunted.

“Okay, why do you keep calling me Sweetness? It's highly irritating…plus it's making my sweet tooth act up,” I grouched. I was desperately trying to pay attention and take notes, but he was making it impossible to concentrate.

“I don't know. It just fits. You're all sweet and innocent. I've noticed you don't curse. Is that a personal choice or are you like one of those churchy kids who wants to get the Holy Stamp of Approval, so they don't swear at all? Inquiring minds want to know,” he asked, stroking his chin like a cartoon villain. It would make him look so childish and stupid…if it wasn't also kind of adorable.

Wait, what? Where did that shiz come from?? Get it together, you walking Bundy victim! Why don't you go moon over a mugshot while you're at it?

“Did you take something for that size problem of yours because you're twice the dick you were yesterday,” I scowled. I didn't notice my voice had gone up a level until a curly brunette two rows in front of us turned around to shush me. I didn't mean to be so crude, but every word he spoke cranked up the dial on my irritation another click. And it didn't help that his annoying scent was still surrounding me and having an undesirable effect on my circulatory system. As in it was circulating my blood down to my nether regions.

“Gasp! You said a naughty word! That's the first one I've heardfrom you, violet eyes. Well done. I was beginning to think you weren't capable,” Hawk praised, giving me a silent golf clap.

“Oh for the love of Freud, can I please listen to the lecture now? I really need to focus on this class,” I begged him, frustration giving my voice an edge that I hoped worked to shut him up.

To my absolute surprise, Hawk held up his hands in a placating gesture and leaned back in his chair. He was silent and appeared to be intently listening to the lecture on Serotonin and Dopamine. I finally let out the breath I didn't realize I had been holding and relaxed into my chair, ready to take notes.

I didn't know how long I was absorbed in the lecture before I felt Hawk's hand slip onto my upper thigh. I jerked violently at the unexpected contact and let out a strangled noise. Unfortunately for me, it wasn't exactly a quiet one.

“Excuse me, is everything alright back there?” Professor Graham called up to me. I saw most of the heads in the room swivel my way. I was fairly certain I was red enough to pass as a life-sized “Grope Me Elmo” doll with Hawk's hand slowly inching up my thigh despite the eyes on us.

“N-no sir. Everything's f-fine. I'm sorry,” I stuttered out, trying and failing to keep my voice steady. If the professor noticed, he didn't let on. He merely turned back to the screen and continued teaching.

When I was sure everyone had turned back toward the front, I swung my head toward Hawk. “Holy Hitchcock, what do you think you're doing??” I bit out as harshly and quietly as I could.

He seemed wholly unaffected by the minor scene we had just caused, and the hand planted on my thigh started massaging the muscle there. That let out a slew of tingles that I felt throughout my lower body. I hated that I didn't hate it at all.

Except for when I thought aboutwhowas responsible for the sensation.

“Let go of me,” I growled, attempting to grab his hand and pry it off my leg. Hawk just gripped tighter and removed my hand with his free one.

“Uh uh, Sweetness. You need to be careful. Don't want to alert the professor to what we're doing,” Hawk whispered, his voice carrying a sweet but poisonous edge that had my stomach dropping.

“I'mnot doing anything. You're?—”

Hawk's hand crept up to the junction of my groin, his fingersinches from my dick as he continued the massaging motion. I let out an involuntary moan that I did my best to stifle.

“Exactly,” Hawk said smugly. “You're not doing anything, especially stopping me. See, I have a theory that you want this. That you've probably never had another man's hands on you, and you're dying for a taste. Tell me I'm wrong.”

His provocative words had my temper spiking, but the sparks flying out from where he was touching me were spreading through my groin and my words failed me. I wanted to contradict what he was saying because he was wrong, but I couldn't find the words.

“You can stop this, you know? Say the word and I'll stop,” Hawk murmured in my ear, his nose brushing my earlobe gently. I shivered and his chuckle sent a rush of breath against my neck. It was pure, freaking hell…and yet I wasn't saying no.

Why wasn't I saying no?

Hawk's hand traveled a little higher until he was right above my waistband, and then he slowly swept down to grab my dick that was unfortunately thickening in my jeans. The sensation made my hips punch forward into his hand and I bit back the groan at how good the pressure felt. Beside me, Hawk let out a hum that I felt across my entire body.

“Tell me to stop, Sweetness. Tell me you don't want me to rub this pretty cock of yours through your jeans and make you come for me,” Hawk crooned, and his salacious words forced out a pump of precum that wet the inside of my boxers.

What in the heck is happening right now? Why am I not saying no? I could have sworn I said no…right? That's a thing I just did, I'm sure of it. Except…I don't remember it. Oh ffff-fornication, this feels so good…it shouldn't feel this good.

Hawk continued to rub my cock over my pants, the pressure he was applying both delicious and frustratingly not enough at the same time. I was barely aware of the fact that my hips were canting into his palm, humping the hand that was working me over like a pro.

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