I nod, and we finish stretching in a comfortable silence.
“What about school? Your classes as hard as you thought they’d be?” Adam asks as we cross the top of the garage to start making our way back down.
My throat tightens, a jolt of nerves flittering through me at the thought of the past two weeks. Classes have been fine, for the most part. I prepared over the summer, and I’ve always been one of those students who excelled pretty easily. I’m not intimidated by my cornerstone classes.
But I am freaked out about having class with Grayson.
He hasn’t tried to talk to me again since that first day, but I feel his energy every time I’m in that classroom with him. It makes my skin crawl.
And as ashamed as I am to admit it to myself, it also makes me sad.
I can’t place why, and I never give myself time to think on it before I push him out of my mind and focus on the professor.
But I still have yet to tell Adam about it, and I don’t know if I even need to.
Why would it matter? It’s just a class together, and I don’t even talk to Grayson or anything. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.
Adam glances behind him on our way down the stairs when I don’t answer for a while, and I shake my head, smiling.
“Sorry, just tired. Yeah, school is fine. I feel like me staying here over the summer to get ahead was smart.”
“You’re the smartest girl I know,” he says, and when we reach the bottom of the stairs, he grabs my wrist and tugs me into him.
His mouth is on mine in the next instant, his hands in my hair, running through it softly before he tugs it at the end.
“You got homework tonight?” he husks.
“Nothing that can’t wait.”
“Good,” he says, smiling at my shortness of breath as he slips his tongue inside my mouth, swirling and teasing. “Because I think we have some anatomy to study.”
“Mmm,” I muse, running my hands down his back to hook into the back band of his shorts. “I do still need some help in a certain area, come to think of it.”
Adam frowns. “And that is?”
I lick my lips, leaning up on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Blow jobs.”
A shiver runs through him, and he groans, looking up to the sky as if he needs a god to save him from me. “Jesus Christ, woman. I’ve got an instant boner and we have to walk all the way across campus.”
“Guess you better walk behind me, then,” I say, turning and leaning my ass into his hard on.
He groans again, smacking my ass and tucking his erection into the band of his shorts before we start our walk — both of us a little quicker than necessary now that we know what waits for us when we get back to the A Sig house.
Yeah, I think. No sense in bringing up Grayson.
We’re happy — finally — and there’s nothing to tell, really. It’s just a class together, nothing to concern him over.
For now, I’ll keep it to myself.
What’s the harm in that?THE WOOD FLOOR OF the studio is cool under my bare feet, and I wiggle my toes, reveling in the feel of it as I close my eyes and listen to the music. It’s a slow, exotic song, filled with heat and energy, and slowly, my hips begin to sway to the beat.
On my next breath, I lift my arms over my head, rolling them in time with my hips before I trail them down, gliding my fingertips over my body, the song sinking in deeper and deeper.
When my eyes open, I see the center pole four feet in front of me, and I lick my lips, still moving in time with the music as I strut toward it. My right hand reaches out, wrapping around the chrome, and I swing, lifting my feet off the ground and letting the momentum send me spinning.
Everything is lost in moments like these, when I’m in the studio, the music loud, just me and my body dancing and making art. My feet barely hit the floor before I grip the pole in my armpit and lean back, legs tucked before extending into chopper, and then I’m hooking my outside leg and letting the rest of my body hang.
The skin on my inside thigh burns to life, but it’s a comforting pain, one that I know from experience will go away the longer I practice. I use my legs and arms to make shapes as the pole spins, and then I swing my inside leg around, hooking it over the pole before my right leg extends.
Leg hang after leg hang, shape after shape, I feel my way through the song. I alternate between tricks in the air to low flow and floor work, and by the time the last beats of the sexy song fade away, I’m dripping in sweat, chest heaving, abdomen contracting and releasing where I lie on my back on the floor.