Page 33 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

“I’m about to fuck you, Outlaw.” The distinct sound of a little gold wrapper opening hits my ears and a thrill shoots down my spine. I’d be lying if I said I’m not wet already. How could I not be after him proposing this very scenario in the hallway?

“Are you now? And what if I don’t want to? What if I walk out right now and go to class?” I challenge playfully. Damn this fool.

“Well, then I’d have to fuck my hand to get you out of my system so I can focus in class. You wouldn’t want to make me do that, now would you?” I never want him to get me out of his system.

“Could I watch?”

“That defeats the purpose of leaving,” he says, pushing me backward. When he realizes a shelf is behind me, he turns us… another shelf. One more swift move, our eyes locked, my back finds a cold painted cinder block wall.Perfect.

“Then I guess fucking it is.” I lean back against the wall as he lifts me up so my legs can circle his waist. His hand finds my pussy, and he moves my panties to the side, then circles my clit. Dropping his head back, he sucks in a breath and groans.

“You’re so wet, Outlaw. Good thing I’m going to take care of this. Fuck me out of your system for you. There is no way you would’ve been able to sit in class with this between your legs. You would’ve been uncomfortable.”

“I’ll never get you out of my system.” I moan, wriggling my hips for more of his touch. He lets out another deep, guttural sound and spears me with his cock. My gasp is loud as I stretch around him. He’s buried to the hilt, and this angle is hitting every nerve I have. The chuckle that rumbles through the closet as he covers my mouth is sexy and sinful, fucking dirty. He likes it when I’m loud, but that gasp was completely involuntary and we certainly don’t need to get caught defiling the university. “Fuck me, Riggs.”

“Yes, ma’am.” When he moves, it’s like a lightning strike straight to my core. Pleasure cracks through my system as I bounce on his cock, moving to get the best friction with each one of his thrusts. Our position is a bit compromising, and it’s probably hard to hold me up against this wall, but I can’t help myself. He feels so damn good. In a matter of what seems like seconds, I’ve hit my peak and I let out a muffled cry. There’s no stopping my voice, and he knows it. He simply holds his hand a little tighter over my mouth. I bite down on his palm.

He hisses a breath. “Fuck, Outlaw,” he whispers. “You like that, don’t you? You’re gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? In a matter of minutes, my girl is going to soak me. That’s what we do to each other. Do you feel how hard I am?”

I nod. Of course I do. Is he crazy? I feel everything he does to me. It’s pure insanity and this quickie in the supply closet is so hot I can barely stand it. We’re explosive, there’s no other word for it.

“Riggs, I’m coming,” I try to say, but it comes out garbled beneath his hand. He gets the point and fucks me harder, pushing my pleasure higher and higher as he grunts and bites my shoulder to hide his sounds when he comes for me. I wrap my hands around the back of his head and plunge my fingers into his hair and he sighs, placing his forehead against my collarbone. His movements still.

The only sound in the closet is us panting as we come down from our high, still entwined with one another.

“I told you this skirt was sexy,” he mumbles and laughs.

“You’re crazy if you think we’ll ever have enough of each other.” I smooth said skirt down over my thighs while Riggs removes the condom and ties it in a knot. I find some paper towels and unwrap a fresh roll. He cleans himself up and stuffs the remnants of our time together in his pocket.

“It smells like sex in here,” he whispers as he zips himself back up into his trousers.

“And candy?” We share a breathless laugh and straighten ourselves.

“The janitor might like it.” He kisses the tip of my nose and collects his phone, turning off the light.

“Well, in that case, he’s welcome.”

Riggs grabs my hand and shamelessly leads me from the closet. I don’t think I’d care either way, but the halls are mostly empty. A few peering eyes notice us and some linger while others mind their business.

I can’t help but think we’re flaunting our relationship a bit too much, though.

Creative writing is slow going.I’m thinking there isn’t really a syllabus involved. We spend most of our time studying. I’m not complaining, who doesn’t love an easy A? But I’m also bummed because literature is a favorite of mine, so creative writing is one class I look forward to.

Under the table, we hold hands until I decide to get serious about the extra time to complete some assignments. Riggs is caught up on his work—of course—so his hand travels up my skirt from time to time. Not arguing, but it is harder to concentrate when the sound of my pounding heart is bleeding into my ears. Worth it, no matter how far he pushes it.

After a while, I come up for air, you know, watch the birds out the window and shit. I tear a piece of paper from my notebook and scribble on it.

So, are you like my boyfriend or something?It swooshes as it slides across our table to Riggs’ side.

The smile that cracks my stoic man’s lips is infectious. Long fingers scrape against the scruff on his face as he taps the tip of his chin like he’s not sure.

He flicks a glance at me then writes something on the paper but won’t let me see, covering it as I’m sure he’s had to do for years to keep the rich kids from cheating off his tests. His pencil seems to scratch on forever and ever when finally he gives it back.

It says yes and my heart does a silly leap in my chest. But beneath that is a rough sketch of something I’ll remember forever. It’s a feminine skull wearing her hair in a messy bun. Instead of cross bones, there are hockey sticks in the shape of an X. Hanging off of the blade of one stick is a Jester’s hat and covering her mouth is a bandana.

On a well-placed banner reads the wordsThe Jester and His Outlaw.

His… He claimed me.

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