Page 31 of Romance Languages

He threw his head back, hips leaving the mattress as he arched into the air and shot loads of hot come streaking onto his stomach. Come dribbled down my fist as I pumped the last drops from him. He finally had to lightly push my hand back.

The air was heavy between us, the smell of sex blanketing the room. Still in a haze, I brought my hand to my mouth and tasted Seamus.

Color flushed his face. His bright eyes blinked at me as he caught his breath. I felt as powerful as a sex god.

“Wow.”

“Are you okay?” I had to ask.

“Yeah. I, uh, I can be really intense when I come. It’s kinda weird, I know, but I can’t control it, especially in the heat of things.” It was adorably Seamus.

“Which is ironic since you’re usually so laid back.”

“My orgasm has no chill.”

“It’s hot.” I felt myself blush.Did I just call Seamus hot to his face?I had to be careful to toe the line of our friendship, especially when we weren’t in the heat of sex. “How was it for you? How did I do?”

Once a straight-A student seeking approval, always a straight-A student seeking approval.

He tipped his head at me. “Seriously, Jules? I think your work speaks for itself.” He gestured at his come-splattered stomach. “This is going to be a fun month.”

10

SEAMUS

Other teachers had it easy. They could teach English or woodshop on autopilot as their minds checked out. As someone who taught a foreign language, I didn’t have that luxury. I couldn’t zone out in my lesson because I was constantly translating English to Spanish—very broken Spanish for most of my students.

It sucked, because today, I wanted to zone out. I wanted to zone out hard.

Look, I’d gotten plenty of hand jobs in my life. Most I’d given myself. It was a miracle I could still use my right hand for anything. Jerking off was nothing new to me.

But this morning would not leave my mind. Was it possible that I’d received the best hand job of my life?

I wanted to keep thinking about it, indulging in how good it felt to have someone else’s hands on me, someone who had an incredible ability to read my body. It’d been a while (years!) since I’d been with anyone (by choice!). Was it a problem that I was thinking about a guy instead of a girl?

It was friction. Really, really good friction.

I’d always known Jules was an intelligent guy, but he was also like…sexually intelligent.

I should’ve had sex with more smart girls in college.

It wasn’t just that, though. My mind kept going back to the way he looked. Darker, hornier. Buttoned-up, kind, smart Jules was a sexual animal underneath that refined exterior. And his fiery stare? That signed a long-term lease in my brain.

Had I ever been looked at that way? Like I was craved and meant to be devoured?

Devoured by a guy. What wouldthatbe like?

“Senor Shablanski?” one of my students called from her desk, while I stood idly at the markerboard.

“What?” I asked, like I was the student caught flat footed by the teacher.

She pointed at the board. My Spanish sentence turned to English halfway through.

“Lo siento,” I said. I shook off any thoughts of Julian.

I was reading into things that weren’t there. It was the heat of the moment. Julian’s intense gaze was no different from my intense orgasm. He needed a friend to help him run the sexual bases. Just because I’d been wandering in a sexual desert of my own making didn’t mean I had to make shit weird.

When the bell rang, my students darted out of class before I realized I’d forgotten to assign them homework. Shit. Damn hand job messing with my lesson plans.

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