Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Riley

I couldn’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Not only that, but I couldn’t remember the last time I won anything on my own. I’d won several games of Pac Man, and defeated Eric at air hockey, which I had to admit was one hell of a game, but as I looked down at Eric, his hand settled on my hip, eyes ablaze, I felt like I was winning at far more than games.

And thanks to the drinks, I felt like for the first time, maybe I had something fun of my own to offer.

Eric seemed to bring out a part of me I didn’t know existed, and I wanted more of that.

I wanted more of him.

Overwhelmed by his sparkling gaze, I knew all it would take, was one swift move and I could have him. He was so close.

My gaze dipped to his perfect mouth, the one that sounded so good talking shit, that was parted just the slightest.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the fact Eric looked hot as hell amid the neon glow of Wizard’s.

Or maybe it was that I had lost my marbles completely.

I leaned in just a fraction, but our lips would never touch.

Because mere seconds later, someone was calling my name.

“Mr. Evans?”

Instantly, the spell was broken, and I dropped my hand, moving away from Eric, scanning the room to see who was calling my name, and where they were.

When my gaze finally settled on the culprit, my eyes widened.

Trent Klaypas, one of my students from Senior Painting, waved at me.

A quick glance at my watch told me it was only ten-thirty, which immediately set off my teacher brain.

What was he doing out so late on a school night?

Come to think of it, maybe we should get going.

“Hey...” I said nervously, feeling myself start to sweat.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” he asked, tugging on his backpack.

“I could ask you the same question, young man,” I said, with a forced grin.

Trent laughed as he nodded to the bar. “I work in the kitchen. Dishwasher. Just on my way home,” he said, looking back and forth between Eric and I.

“Oh, where are my manners?” I said, running a hand through my hair.

“Eric, this is Trent, one of my students. Senior Painting.”

I watched as Eric’s jaw tensed, his entire body stiffening. He held his hand out, and Trent took it. He appraised Eric like a specimen.

Did they know one another?

“Nice to meet you,” Eric said politely, flashing a grin that was rather fake, but charming nonetheless.

“Yeah, pleasure’s all mine,” Trent said with a wink, and I watched as they dropped hands, and Eric shoved his in his pockets.

“Well, anyway, I’m heading out, I just wanted to say hey . See you in class tomorrow,” he said, flashing a grin, and I waved.

When he was gone, I let out a sigh. “I know it’s probably early for you, but?—”

“Turning into a pumpkin already?” Eric said, his voice the same, smooth sound that made my insides melt, but something was off. He sounded... sad, almost.

Guilty.

But that was probably my imagination.

What would Eric have to feel guilty about?

“Yeah,” I said, running a hand through my hair.

“I mean, it is a school night,” I said sheepishly.

Eric nodded as he took the lead, and I followed.

The entire way home, he was quiet. The tension in the air was thick, and I was out of my mind wondering if I’d done something, said something.

If it was because we’d almost kissed.

If it was because we hadn’t kissed.

For a moment, I thought I’d overreacted. Read too much into his attitude. His perfect lips...

“Well, Cinderella, better get you inside before the clock strikes twelve,” he said finally as we pulled up to my house.

I nodded, letting out a sigh, the both of us quiet and still for a moment. Eric opened his door. I did the same.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I walked around in front of the BMW.

“Being a gentleman,” Eric snapped, his tone slightly annoyed.

“You don’t have to?—”

“Yeah, well, maybe I want to,” he said, his shoulders stiffening. “Maybe I want to be prince charming for once,” he muttered.

Something about his words stirred something deep within me. Both a desire to placate and soothe as well as submit.

“Okay...” I said, much more breathlessly than I cared to admit.

Eric walked me to my door, and I fumbled with my keys. I didn’t want him to leave, but...

The moment he turned away, to head back to his car, I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed him by the arm, stopping him in his tracks. I decided at that moment, that I didn’t want him to leave without knowing how I felt.

How he made me feel.

I’d been on a lot of dates in my life, but none had ever felt so... right.

“Eric,” I started.

He turned, looking at me with bright blue eyes, full of wonder and dare I say hope?

“Yeah?” he breathed, his voice only shaking the slightest.

“I... I had a really great time tonight,” I said, licking my lips. Sweat broke out on my forehead, and I could feel my insides swirling like a hurricane.

Eric swallowed, flashing me a genuine smile that was both endearing and wistful. And I was powerless to fight the feeling. I was powerless to fight the connection between us.

Eric fell into my space, and I fell into him with ease, pulling him close.

I slid my hand in his hair, tilting his face up to mine as I crushed my lips against his.

A part of me half expected him to pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he melted against me like warm butter on toast, groaning with a deep satisfaction that echoed in my mouth, bringing my cock back to life once more.

I gripped the edge of his hair with my fingers as I relaxed, relishing in the warmth of his skin against my palm, of his tongue in my mouth, caressing mine.

Eric kissed me like he was starving. Like he needed me as much as I needed him.

When he pulled away, I spoke. “I’d like to see you again. If... if that’s okay, and you’re free, I mean,” I hurried, feeling a monumental weight as I said the words.

“I’d like that,” Eric said, licking his pouty lips, which were beautifully swollen still from kissing me. His voice was like fudge, thick and rich. He walked away slowly.

“I mean, I did win the game,” I said, smiling wide.

Eric appraised me with his gaze as he stopped halfway to the car.

“Right. Of course,” he said, waving at me as he turned around.

I watched from my porch as he got in his sleek car, pulled out, and drove away.

Only once the door was locked, did I let out a breath of relief, a smile curling at the edges of my lips. I fist bumped the air like a total dork, like I too, was a teenager.

A teenager who’d gotten lucky with the hottest guy in school.

My mind was spinning, reeling from our night, our kiss.

One look at the clock on the stove told me it was nearing eleven thirty, and I knew I needed to get to bed soon.

Normally, I’d shower in the morning, but I was also usually in bed by now, so I knew it would be best to shower before bed so I could grab a few extra snoozes in the morning.

I undressed on my way to the bathroom, tossing my clothes in the hamper. Turning on the shower, I let the water run for a moment, waiting for it to warm. My cock throbbed, stiff as a board, and instinctively, I ran my hand along the length. Warm, sticky bits of precum lined my slit, and I let out a frustrated groan, remembering Eric’s contented sound, his tongue in my mouth.

I let go of myself as I entered the warm spray, trying to push the images in my mind away. I needed to get cleaned up, needed to get to bed, so I could get up on time.

But the ache in my balls, and the solidness of my throbbing erection were too much, and I knew there was only one way to truly quiet my need.

I slid my wet hand over my shaft slowly, my hips thrusting of their own accord. Bracing myself against the wall with my free hand, I closed my eyes, focusing only on the feel of my hand, the motion. It’d been a long time since I felt anyone else’s touch, and I’d grown content with that. At least, I thought I had.

But soon my mind filled with the memory of Eric once more, of my fingers in his hair, of his deep, throaty groans, of his warm tongue caressing mine.

Of his hardness pressed against me.

Slowly, I dragged myself out of my warm, wet palm, a deep groan escaping my own throat.

I imagined we didn’t stop there, on my porch.

I imagined my lips caressed that sweet corner of his mouth, the spot where his smirk set as he gazed up at me. I imagined sliding my hands over his hips, along the curve of his ass in his sexy jeans, over his hardness.

I thrust myself through my fist once more, this time picking up the pace as I imagined the sounds he’d make beneath me, the way his hands would feel touching me the way I wanted to touch him.

I imagined the warmth of his needy mouth wrapped around my swollen cock, and letting out a frustrated groan.

My hips thrust harder, faster as the image of Eric before me—no, beneath me—perfect, pouty lips wrapped around me, sucking, licking...

“Fuck!” I growled as I came, hard.

My stomach muscles tightened as I hazily opened my eyes, watching my cock spray the wall with my release, with an intensity I’d never felt before.

I stroked myself slowly, trying to catch my breath as my release continued to spurt and I emptied myself. The water had gone cold when I’d finally gone soft, and I couldn’t deny I felt different.

But it was a good sort of different.

Like everything was changing, and for once, I was looking forward to tomorrow.