Page 85 of The Substitute
“Okay,” he chuckles. “I didn’t know chem had so many different classes.”
I smile at him, relieved for the break in tension. “You’re a business major, right?”
“You mean besides stick handling?” He winks at me, and I roll my eyes.
“Obviously.”
“Yeah,” he says with zero excitement.
“I can see you’re really passionate about it.” I lift some of the noodles from my container to eat.
“It wasn’t my choice, but I did what I had to do.”
That catches my attention. It’s not very often I see this grin and bear it side of him. I would assume it has something to do with his family or his dad, but I’m not sure how to go about the topic.
“What would you rather be studying?”
“I love marine biology. The ecosystems that create and sustain life in the harsh environment of the ocean are mind-blowing. The way life is created and evolved to survive in places that nothing else can is amazing.” Ambrose goes on, talking about everything from microscopic life forms to blue whales, the trenches vs the sunlight zone, the temperature of the water, and migration. He’s animated in a way I’ve never seen him before. The sparkle in his eye as he talks with his hands and tellsme everything shows me how much he really loves this topic. It’s adorable. “People think the Titanic is super deep—, almost four thousand meters—but that’s nothing on other parts of the ocean…” He looks at me and his cheeks turn pink. “Sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry.” I shake my head. “Tell me about it.”
Logically, I know not all athletes are dumb, but I seem to place them all in that category, so this proves that Ambrose is smart about more than just hockey, and it is enlightening in the best way. Since I can’t play sports to save my life, I combat my lack of athletic ability with book smarts and sarcasm, but what do I do when someone is both smart and good at sports?
“I’d rather know more about you.”
I sigh and turn back to the food. “There’s nothing to know. I’m boring.”
Ambrose turns my face back toward him with a soft hand on my chin. “Not true. What I’ve learned so far certainly isn’t boring.”
“That can not possibly be true.” I find that I need some reassurance or a connection that’s been missing my entire life. Closing the distance between us, I press our mouths together in a quick kiss. It’s nowhere near satisfying, but it’s worth it. Ambrose slides his hand to cup the back of my neck and pulls me in to take another kiss, this time angling his head and deepening it until all there is…is him. Smell, taste, touch, nothing but Ambrose.
He groans when my tongue touches his, dancing to an erotic beat that makes my insides quiver. Ambrose uses his hold on me to get me into his lap, though I don’t fight him. I’m straddling him the next minute, chest to chest, with his hand on my ass. We’re making out like teenagers, exploring and touching. It’s perfect.
I drag my nose down his jaw and kiss his Adam’s apple, lick the hollow of his throat, and bite his collarbone. Being aroundhim is a constant battle to keep my hands to myself, especially since he told me I can touch him whenever I want to. The more he and Savage touch me, the more starved I feel. There’s never enough.
“I’m going to come if you keep that up,” he groans, and I smile into his skin.
“Isn’t that usually the point of these situations?” I inhale the scent of him at the center of his chest. Warm, earthy scents with a hint of wood and amber. It’s the best thing I’ve ever smelled in my life.
“Nah, this is just for fun.”
I sit up to look at him. “Are orgasms not fun?”
He laughs and brings my lips back to his, then drags them to my ear. “They definitely are, but that’s not what you want right now.”
I shudder and rock my hips against his. “Are you a mind reader now? What do you think I want?”
Ambrose shoves his hand under my shirt and finds my nipple, pulling and pinching until it’s sensitive, and I’m panting for him. “You just want to be touched. Held. Worshipped.”
“Fuuuck,” I whimper.
There’s a loud knock on the door, and we freeze. Goddammit. Who the hell is that?
“Just a second!” I yell and try to stand, but Ambrose has a hold of my hips and doesn’t let me move.
“Who is it?” By the set of his jaw, he already has his suspicions, but I wasn’t supposed to see Savage today, so I really don’t know who it is.
“I’m not sure,” I mumble.
