Page 59 of Studious
“Yes,” he gasps, rubbing up against me.
“Just wanted to be sure.” I chuckle. “Even though I know we shouldn’t be doing this, it feels so fucking good. Better than with anyone else.”
“I have nothing to compare it to,” he murmurs against my ear, darting out his tongue to lick the shell.
“Trust me.”
And for a moment, I wonder what it would be like to have access to this guy every day. I like him, and I like how I feel with him, and I want to know more about him.
Which, of course, violates all my rules. But I’m a lawyer. I’m sure I can find a loophole.
CHAPTER15
Alden
Danny and I started kissing, and I don’t want to stop. Also, I’m so pent up I might burst.
I don’t know what I’m doing. At all. I’m way out of my depth, physically and emotionally. The second one might be more important, because I know this doesn’t mean anything to him. Whereas, since I have a crush on him, it kinda sorta means something to me. So I need to stop.
But I can’t.
His big arms hold me to him, and all the club noises and movement and bodies just fade away. I don’t know anything other than him and what it’s like to be embraced by him.
He’s solid and soothing—and at the same time wildly exciting. We move away from the bar and toward the dance floor, kissing as we go, so it’s clumsy but hot as hell.
Is this my real life? I need to pinch myself. Instead, I let him grip my ass tight as I rub against his zipper, our hard cocks pressed together.
“We have to quit it,” I gasp, “or I’m going to come in my pants.”
Danny grins wickedly. “I want to see that.”
“What? I’ll make a mess!”
But something about the idea is turning me on. I’ve only ever come in my bed or the shower—not where anyone else can see.
And I’m very close. I can only take so much—Danny’s dancing is arousing, and the kissing has been working me up, and the friction on my cock is driving me wild. The music’s loud, and there are bodies moving all around us.
I glance to each side, and it’s not like anyone’s paying attention to me. Sure, I’ll be a mess, but it’s so dark in here, I’m not sure anyone would be able to tell—especially not in these jeans.
Danny makes the decision for me with his intoxicating words. “I’m just saying, it would be fucking hot to see you come. Not going to pressure you. But if you happen to rub against my hard dick…” He’s hauling me up now, grinding with me, all sexy and dirty. It’s more than dancing. His lips nip at my ear. “And if it feels good.” One hand slips inside my pants and touches my bare ass. “Then enjoy it.” Between the music and the motion, the rubbing and his hands all over me, his words and his kisses—I let myself go.
My dick pulses through an orgasm that’s like the pinnacle of my life so far. Pleasure suffuses my body in waves, and Danny doesn’t miss a beat. He watches my face and shivers, then dives in and kisses me deeply as my body shakes and my brain zaps out.
When he finally pulls back, he growls, “Fuck, that was amazing. Need to get cleaned up? Or do you want to go home?”
I don’t want to do either. I want to stay here with him, dancing and imagining that this intimacy between us could be real, could last. But the warm spunk in my jeans will get gross and sticky soon enough.
“Let me clean up, and then take me home?” I ask.
He gives me a light, gentle kiss. “Sure.”
Holding my hand, he tugs me to the bathroom, where I clean up as best I can. When I’m done, I wash my hands and stare at my face in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and my lips are swollen from kissing. My eyes are at half-mast, drunk with pleasure still. But my hair looks good. And my shirt hides the wet spot on my jeans, so I can make my way out of the club without too much embarrassment.
But then I remember. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Danny asks in his low rumble.
“You didn’t come.” I reach for him, uncertain whether I should, what, jack him off? Blow him? I don’t know what to do.
