He had no idea how much time had passed when his cell phone went off in the pocket of his jacket.
With a sigh of frustration, Shawn tore his lips away and answered it.
“Yeah?” he managed, fingers clenched in Rutledge’s sweater as the man kissed his face and his neck. God, his lips seemed to burn Shawn’s skin.
“Where the hell are you?” Bill, the manager of the restaurant. Fuck. “You’re almost late for your shift!”
“Sorry, give me fifteen minutes—”
“Five!” Bill hung up.
Shawn pushed Rutledge away. “Need to go. I’m late for work.”
He walked away quickly, his legs still weak and his body aching with want. “Idiot,” he muttered. He should have told Xavier to take him straight to work. Hell, he shouldn’t have gone to Sage’s place at all after he’d dropped the twins at Mrs. Hawkins’s. And he definitely shouldn’t have spent minutes sucking Rutledge’s tongue.
Tires screeched and a familiar Mercedes pulled up beside him. The car door flew open.
“Get in,” Rutledge said. “I’ll give you a ride.”
Shawn hesitated, but what the hell. He really was running late. Pointless stubbornness was stupid.
He got in and told Rutledge the address of the restaurant. Sometimes he got assigned to the restaurant at the other end of the city, but luckily for Shawn, tonight it was the one close to his place.
Neither of them spoke during the short drive. Shawn leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes as he fought for control.
Thankfully, it only took about five minutes to reach the restaurant.
“Thanks,” Shawn muttered, without looking at the other man, and opened the door.
Rutledge caught his arm.
Shawn took a shaky breath in before turning to Rutledge.
Dark eyes looked at him grimly.
“Okay,” Shawn said. “But this is the last time, got it?”
He leaned toward Rutledge, buried his fingers in his hair and gave him a deep, wet kiss. Rutledge accepted the kiss passively, but Shawn could feel his body vibrate with tension, and it made Shawn achingly hard.
The cell phone went off again.
Sighing, Shawn pulled away and whispered, “This is stupid. We both know it.” He wiped his lips. “Let’s just pretended this never happened, okay?”
Rutledge said nothing—just looked at Shawn with dark, hungry eyes.
And god, Shawn wanted to kiss him again. Badly.
Swearing through his teeth, he practically jumped out of the car.
Chapter 15
Shawn was walking to his last class of the day when he saw Rutledge walking the other way.
His steps faltered for a moment before he averted his gaze and continued walking, determined to ignore him.
Except Rutledge didn’t let him.
He grabbed Shawn’s arm as they were passing each other. “A word, Mr. Wyatt.”
Shawn wet his lips, his heart pounding. He looked straight in front of him. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about, Professor.”
The grasp on his hand tightened. “A word.”
Shawn glanced around. “Let go. You’re attracting attention.”
Rutledge removed his hand and bit out, “Follow me.”
“I have a class in a few minutes.”
“I’ll write you a note,” Rutledge threw over his shoulder before walking away.
“That’s abuse of power,” Shawn grumbled but did follow him.
Rutledge led him into a classroom at the end of the hall. It was empty.
Shawn closed the door. “Look, this is—”
Rutledge slammed him against the wall and crushed their lips together.
Goddammit, not this again. But he was already kissing back and gasping into Rutledge’s mouth.
The kiss was messy and needy, Rutledge pressing against him as though he was trying to embed him in the wall.
Shawn whined when the kiss ended as suddenly as it began.
Rutledge buried his face against the side of Shawn’s throat, breathing deeply, his body tense as hell. “I want to fuck you.” Rutledge sucked hard on the side of his neck, his hands kneading Shawn’s ass and pushing their crotches together. “Need to fuck you again.”
Shawn closed his eyes, trying to think, trying to remember how to breathe because it didn’t seem like he was getting any oxygen to his brain and all his blood seemed to have drained into his cock and his head was blissfully empty. He couldn’t for the life of him remember why it was such a bad idea—
“Why Shawn would be here—Oh.”
Shawn froze. Rutledge went very still, his lips still on Shawn’s neck.
Then they both turned their heads.
Christian stood in the half-open doorway, his mouth agape.
“He’s not here,” he said loudly, stepped back and shut the door.
His face hot, Shawn sighed. “I should go.”
But he didn’t move.
Rutledge leaned his forehead against the wall next to Shawn’s head. His hands were still gripping Shawn’s hips, his thumbs on the bare skin of Shawn’s lower stomach. “This is all your fault,” he said, his voice terse.
Shawn huffed, buried his hand in Rutledge’s hair and tugged. “How is this my fault?”
“You shouldn’t have decided to leave early,” Rutledge said irritably, placing greedy, open-mouthed kisses on Shawn’s neck. “If you hadn’t done that, I would have fucked you a few more times until it got boring enough.”