Chapter 23

TWENTY-THREE

I 'm floating. There is no other way to describe it.

I have never felt this happy. I might not be telling people about us right now, but us keeping this a secret only makes it more exciting. Every stolen moment, lingering touch, or look leaves me breathless, and when we kiss?

Yeah, it's never been this good, like we are meant to be together. It seems Alek agrees. He's still angry and an asshole, but he can also be flirty, funny, and kind of sweet—not that I would tell him that to his face because he would probably hit me. Even thinking about it makes me grin.

Alek: I keep finding blond hair in my car. You are worse than a girl.

A picture comes through of his grumpy face holding up a blond strand.

Evan: That could be anyone's.

Alek: You are the only blond who's been in my car.

Evan: So you let brunettes inside it? The betrayal.

Alek: The only other person allowed in my car is my sister, you rich idiot.

Evan: Maybe I need to put my name on it so everyone knows it's my seat then.

Alek: Don't you even dare, pretty boy.

I want to squeal, but I swallow it down. I can't hold back my smile though. It's quiet in the library, so I have to duck my head and bite my lip to stop it, especially with Lally and Tommy working on their footage for their project just across from me. I know they know something is going on, but they are good enough friends to let me tell them when I'm ready.

Evan: So mean.

Alek: You love it. I have to work late tonight, so I won't have time to see you.

Evan: That's okay. I need to edit tonight anyway. I think Lally and I are going to pull an all-nighter in the photo lab.

Alek: Okay, don't work too hard, and make sure you eat.

I bite back a bigger smile, glancing around in case anyone is watching when my phone vibrates again.

Alek: Now show me that pretty face since I won't get to see you.

Keeping the phone low and on silent, I pout as I snap a picture and send it. I look at Lally to see her watching me with a knowing grin on her lips. I quickly look away when my phone buzzes under the table.

Alek: Such a pretty boy, I hate it.

Alek: I want to see more of you.

Evan: I'm in the library, you perv.

Alek: Go to the bathroom, rich boy, now, and send me a picture, or I'll turn up there and see for myself.

I almost want to dare him to, but we both need to work, so I mutter an excuse to my friends and hurry to the bathroom on this floor. After ensuring it's empty, I step into a stall and lock the door. I stare at my phone, biting my lip. I'm not normally shy, but something about Alek makes me shaky. He went from hitting me when kissing me to being obsessed with seeing me, and it's addictive.

Taking a deep breath, I gather my courage and snap a picture of me with a smirk from a high angle, my shirt lifted to show a sliver of skin.

Alek: Fuck.

Alek: I want my hands on you. Lift your shirt higher and give me something good to get through work.

Desire makes my cheeks burn hot as I lift my shirt to flash my abs and send it, waiting with bated breath for him to reply.

Alek: Look at you, pretty boy, so goddamn sexy. I wonder what those muscles taste like. You have no idea what you do to me or how crazy you fucking make me.

His praise does something to me. It makes me hot and needy. I want it all. I want to hear those words whispered in my ear.

A picture comes through, and my eyes widen. I slam my phone to my chest and look around like someone could be here before realizing how ridiculous that is and peeking back at it. It's of Alek in the bathroom at work, and it's focused on the mirror, slightly blurred. His coveralls are shoved down, and he has his hand down them, leaving no doubt about what he's doing.

Desire pounds through me so fiercely, I can't resist. I slide my hands down my abs and shove it into my cargos, wrapping my hand around my dick. I stroke myself as I look at him, but my phone suddenly vibrates, making me jump.

Alek: Are you touching yourself, rich boy?

My heart stops. How did he know?

Alek: Show me. I want to see.

I snap a picture of my hands in my cargos, and my phone rings. I lift it with a shaky hand and answer.

"Hello?" I whisper, my voice rough.

"Don't speak. Let me hear you touch yourself, rich boy. Let me hear you come."

"I—"

"Now," he demands, his voice sharp and hard. He sounds so angry, but it's so fucking hot.

My hand tightens around my cock as I stroke myself, wishing it were him, and the thought of his hand touching me like this has me softly moaning his name.

"Shit, rich boy," he murmurs. "My name sounds so fucking good on your lips. Do it again." I hear rustling, and his breathing picks up. The idea of him touching himself where someone could find him, so hot for me he can't stop, turns me on.

My eyes close as I widen my legs, stroking harder, moaning his name again.

"That's it, pretty boy," he growls. "How hard are you right now?" When I just pant, his voice comes stronger. "Tell me."

"Hard, so hard," I whine, uncaring who hears. I need to come too badly. I've needed to since the first time we kissed, and our make out session in his car the other day didn't help. I'm on edge, and I've barely touched myself. "I need to come."

"Me too, pretty boy." He groans into my ear. "Fuck, getting you like this is all I think about. Every time I close my eyes, I see those pretty lips and wish they were wrapped around my cock like my fist is right now."

A groan slips free as my back hits the stall, my balls drawing up in pleasure.

"That's it, pretty boy. I can tell you're close. It's in your breathing. You're doing so well. Keep quiet and make yourself come for me. Imagine it's my hand touching you, my lips kissing down your abs and bruising those pretty lips. Be a good boy and come for me."

"Alek," I beg.

"I'm here, pretty boy. Come for me," he demands, his voice hoarse, and I can't stop myself. My cock jerks in my fist, and I bite down until I taste blood as a whimper chokes from my throat. Desire courses through me until I explode. Cum spills over my fist and into my pants, making a mess as I pant and writhe. It doesn't stop as pleasure rolls through me, and when I hear him groan my name quietly into the phone, it only makes it harder.

When I can finally stop, my legs shake, my fist is sticky, and my lips ache. "Good boy," he praises. "Show me how you look right now." I send a picture, and he groans. "Now clean yourself up—no one else gets to see you like that—and get back to work. The quicker you're done, the quicker I get to see you." He hangs up.

I pant, still confused and aroused.

Honestly, it was so hard to clean up the mess, but I did it, and I ignored Lally and Tommy who teased me all afternoon before we went for a meal and then set up camp in the photo lab. It isn't late, so it's still busy, but we manage to secure a corner together, which is rare. We all have our headphones on, but being together offers support. Besides, I trust their vision and ideas, and when I show them a photo I'm editing, they both point out it's better in black and white. I wasn't sure, but I trust in them, so I start to edit them all that way, seeing the vision.

I'm so engrossed in them that I jump when someone taps my shoulder. When I see my professor behind me, a bag over his shoulder, I get hit by a sense of déjà vu. I minimize my work and pull off my headphones, smiling.

"You found something to shoot?" he asks. "I was worried I was too harsh?—"

"No, you were exactly right. I needed that push, the honest truth," I reply.

"Can I see?" he asks excitedly.

Biting my lower lip, I look back at my computer, hesitating. "It's raw and unedited. I don't know . . ." I look back, but he seems crestfallen, so I blow out a breath. "Okay." Besides, it's better to know now, right?

I pull up the images and click through them. He looks over my shoulder the entire time, and I wait with bated breath. When it's on the last one, I turn to look at him. His eyes are wide, and I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

"Damn, Evan." He nods. "You're very talented. This is exactly what I was looking for. I can feel your passion for the subject, and I love the gritty nature of the images. You definitely have talent for portraits and expressing the person in them. I can actually feel him. They are incredible, Evan, truly."

"Really?" I murmur, holding my breath.

"So worth starting over. I'll leave you to it, and trust in yourself, Evan, because you are very talented." He smiles and waves as he heads out.

Lally and Tommy wait for him to leave before jumping on me. "He loves it! He's never reacted like that before, you star!"

"Evan, you are going to be so fucking famous, rich, and get all that dick," Tommy adds, making me laugh as I glance back at the computer, which is open on Alek's image, because he's the only dick I care about.

"We should celebrate!" Lally grins .

"Totally," Tommy agrees.

"Uh, deadlines," I remind them.

"Shit," they both say at the same time. "Later."

Grinning, I look back at the screen. It's all because of Alek. "Damn, who is that? Your boyfriend?" I glance over my shoulder to see George leaning into my chair. He's a year above me and majoring in photography too, so it's no surprise he's here.

I glance back at my screen, which shows Alek leaning into his car, and hesitate before forcing a smile. "No, just a friend who agreed to be my model." It isn't a lie. I don't know what Alek and I are. We haven't agreed on dating or anything, even if he feels like he's mine. Besides, he isn't ready for anyone to know.

"They are really good." George claps my shoulder, and I nod in thanks, watching him wander off.

"Friend my ass," Lally mutters, making my lips quirk.

She doesn't know the half of it. Friends don't kiss the way we do, that's for sure.

Alek: Are you done?

I blink at the text. It's early morning. We have been working all night and just called it a day with none of us being able to focus anymore. I'm heading back to get some sleep before my classes start.

Evan: Just finished. Packing up now, why?

Alek: I'm outside. I'll give you a ride home. We both need to crash.

I blink stupidly but smile anyway and wish Lally and Tommy a good night before heading through the building. Alek is waiting outside, leaning into a rail and looking every inch a movie star. For a moment, I just stare .

"It's rude to stare, rich boy," he calls without looking.

Smirking, I head his way, and he takes my bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and falls in step at my side as we head to his car. He opens the door, carefully putting my bag in the back when I pat my pockets. "Shit, I left my card with Lally. One sec."

"Hurry up, rich boy. I'm tired."

I stand on my toes and kiss his cheek as I dash off. Luckily, Lally is still here, and I take it from her with a mumbled, "Thanks," and head back out, only to stop on the sidewalk. George is talking to Alek.

"You're Evan Shaw's boyfriend?" he asks, and I stiffen.

Alek laughs quickly. "Nah, he's my sister's friend. I'm just here to give him a ride."

My heart sinks at his declaration, and he glances at me as he straightens. I swallow down that feeling and force a smile. I knew he wouldn't tell people, so why did it hurt so much to hear it out loud?

"There you are. Hurry up, I'm exhausted," he snaps.

Nodding, I head his way, smiling at George. "See you in class, Evan."

"Nice to meet you, man. Like I said, if you ever want to model again, let me know."

I watch him go, a jealous feeling in my stomach which doesn't disappear as I look at Alek, who doesn't seem the least bit bothered about the fact that he just lied to someone about me.

He opens the door for me, and I slip inside, quietly putting on my belt and looking out the window.

I was so happy, but it all tastes bitter now.

Will I ever be more than his sister's friend to anyone in public?