Shattered by You (Tear Asunder 3)

I sat through listening to the history of feminism with two hundred women and me and Roman, then Haven told me the good news that her next class was her elective—Greek mythology. I couldn’t even begin to pronounce half the gods’ names the professor talked about.

Halfway through class, I nudged her leg with mine and leaned over. “You understand what he’s talking about?”

She nodded, then went right back to listening to the Professor’s voice drone on like a rusted factory machine. I couldn’t take my eyes off Haven though. Fuck, but she was cute. The most I’d ever paid attention in high school were to chicks, except during music class. I became an exemplary student rocking it out with the band; it was too bad half of them sucked.

It was when Ream, Kite, Logan and I got together in my garage that shit really happened. It was like the stars aligning. The sound came alive in that garage, and I think we all knew what it was between us. It was something fuckin’ special.

That was what it felt like with Haven, and that was something you held onto with both hands. I’d been a man-whore ever since high school. Fuck, Ream and I covered for one another when we brought chicks home and had to sneak them out the second-story window before our parents got home from some charity gig.

One chick got her top caught on the tree branch and ripped it right off. Chick went home in her bra and Ream and I watched her run down the street holding her breasts. We never laughed so hard, rolling around on the floor afterward, clutching our cramping bellies.

A pen tapped me on my forearm and I snapped my head up. “Shh, stop chuckling,” Haven whispered.

I hadn’t realized I was laughing. When I glanced around, students were turned in their seats and looking at me. The only one who didn’t notice was the Professor, who was writing shit on the blackboard, her voice sounding like the dead. No wonder she taught mythology.

I smirked at the class and reached across the space between Haven and me, snatching her hand before she could object and pulled her chair closer to me. It scraped across the floor, making a loud echoing sound on the linoleum. We were in the last row, no one beside us and I grabbed her book bag and placed it on my desk as a sort of shield. No one could see what I was about to do. Well, maybe Roman, but he’d look away.

“Crisis? Stop.”

“I’m bored as fuck,” I complained. And, I’d been laughing by myself about some crap that happened when I was seventeen.

“I’m not your amusement park.”

I had her close enough so I could put my hand on her thigh. Damn, she had rock hard thighs that were going to feel incredible around my naked ass. I knew it might be a while before we got to that point, but I’d wait forever . . . well, a few weeks, anyway. My cock might have something to say about that, but jerking off to thoughts of Haven would have to do until she was ready.

I ran my hand up her leg, fingers trailing along the inner seam of her jeans right up to where her pelvis met her thigh. I didn’t want to push it so I stopped there. “Oh, you have no idea how wrong you are. Your body is my roller coaster, baby.”

She snorted and put her hand on top of mine. I thought she was going to push it off, but instead, she pushed my hand up further until my baby finger grazed over her pussy. My cock jerked along with my body as every muscle tensed.

She kept her hand on top of mine, fingers lightly caressing my skin. I swallowed then flicked my finger over her pussy. Her breath hitched and her back straightened. I did it again. Her legs parted further and I took full advantage, placing my palm over her and applying pressure.

She now gripped the edge of her desk with both hands and her head tilted back slightly, eyes closed.

Jesus. The expression on her face . . . Haven with desire sparkling in her eyes, cheeks flushed . . . it was so fuckin’ special because she was letting me in and letting go all at the same time.

I slipped my hand away, down her inner thigh again then back up until my fingers tap-danced across her pussy again. This time I applied some pressure, not too much, just enough to make sure she could feel every flick of my finger through her jeans over her clit. And I knew she did because she pushed back in her chair, and latched onto my wrist to stop me.

I refused. I was nice, but not when it came to playing. She started this and like I’d told her, there was no going back.

“Vincent,” she hissed as she tried desperately to move away from my hand but couldn’t without getting out of her desk.

I moved my fingers faster over her jeans. I swear I could feel the heat between her legs and I was betting my fuckin’ car that she was soaking wet.

“Please. Stop.” She panted and her grip was so tight on my wrist, I was sure to have bruises.

“Shh, baby,” I whispered. “You need to be quiet.”

And that was when she gave in to it. Right there in the back of the classroom with the teacher going on about some Greek God. It was also when Roman moved up to the front of the class and started coughing, taking any potential attention away from Haven. Thank you, Roman.

“Oh, God,” Haven whispered as her legs quivered and shook, body tensing as she came against my hand.

She released my wrist, but I didn’t move my hand away. Fuck, no. If I had to finish sitting through this class with a rock hard cock, I was keeping my hand right where it was.

And it was the longest class I’d ever sat through. Pure torture. As soon as the Professor dropped the piece of chalk on the ledge of the board and shut her book, I was on my feet. I grabbed Haven’s books off her desk, shoved them under my arm and snagged her knapsack, hitching it over my shoulder.