Little Lies
“So you’re looking to rub up on me for good luck?”
He burrows through my hair, lips finding my neck. “I mean, rubbing up on you is nice, but I was thinking I’d need a little . . . liquid courage.”
“You want to go for a beer?” I’m confused, particularly because he’s rubbing his hard-on against my back and drawing figure eights on my thigh.
“Baby, no.” He chuckles and sucks on my neck.
“Then what kind of liquid courage are you referring to, Kodiak?”
“I have a theory I need to test out.” He slips his fingers under my skirt and drags them up the inside of my leg. I’m wearing tights, but we’re standing in the middle of the stacks. It’s not particularly private.
“Can you please explain this in a way that my peon brain will understand? What in the actual fuck are you talking about?”
“Do you remember the organic chemistry test I had last week?”
“Sure.” I don’t, but I’m hoping to hurry this along so he can get to the point.
“No, you don’t.” He nibbles my earlobe.
“You’re right. I don’t. What happened with the organic chemistry test?”
“I aced it.”
“Awesome. You deserve to be duct-taped to your computer chair for that.” I’m mostly serious.
Kodiak groans against my neck, and my skirt bunches up as he cups me, fingertips pressing against my clit through the layers of fabric.
“What’re you doing? Anyone could walk by.” I make no move to stop him.
“Does it make you anxious?”
“Well, yeah.” The duh is in my tone.
“Me too,” he admits. “But it jacks me right up. That’s fucked, isn’t it?”
I shrug, because honestly, it jacks me up too.
“Anyway, you know what happened right before I took that test?” He rubs slow circles on me through my tights; it’s delicious and not nearly enough.
“No clue,” I whisper-moan.
“I ate you out, and you came all over my face.”
I can feel my cheeks flushing, partly at the memory, partly at how insanely wet it made me then, and how wet I am now. Apparently being extra juicy runs in my family. Unfortunately I know this because my gigi told me.
“It’s all I can think about, and I really need to be able to focus on this test so I can do well.”
“We don’t have time to go home for a pussy buffet, Kodiak.”
“I got the key to a study room.” He raises his hand, and a key on a chain dangles from his ring finger.
I spin around in his arms. “Are you serious?”
He bites his lip. “Please?”
“You got the key to a study room so you can eat me out?” I don’t know why I’m flabbergasted. I mean, this is Kodiak we’re talking about. He’s slightly off-kilter when it comes to rituals. It appears eating my vagina before tests is now one of those things.
He nods. I don’t know how he manages to look angelic right now, his wide, green eyes are doe-like. He’s almost vibrating with excitement and anxiety.
I should probably say no, because this is kind of nuts. But at the same time, I don’t want him to psych himself out and not do well on the test because he didn’t get to go down on me.
That I’m rationalizing this is craziness.
Also, as nervous as it makes me, it’s also kind of thrilling to have my boyfriend go to such extreme lengths to give me an orgasm. Obviously it’s for his benefit, but I’ll get something out of it too.
I nod once. “Okay.”
“Really?” His eyes flare, as if my agreeing is completely unexpected.
I hold up a finger. “Just this once, though.”
He nods vigorously. “Right. Yes. Of course. Just this once.” He grabs my hand and tugs me down the aisle.
“Wait!”
His eyes flare with panic and something like disappointment.
“Can you grab that book for me?” I point to the top shelf. “I can’t reach it.”
“Anything for you, baby.” He nabs it from the shelf, laces our fingers together, and drags me down the hall.
My heart rate skyrockets as we pass the group study rooms with the glass walls. There’s no way he can do what he intends to in one of those.
He drops my hand halfway down the hall and pulls me around a corner as a security guard comes out of the stairwell. There are a lot of them in here, more than I realized up until now.
He shoves the key into my palm and wraps my fingers around it. “You go first. I’ll follow when the coast is clear.”
I take a deep breath, my anxiety spiking, but not the kind that usually results in a meltdown. This is a very different, very new kind of anxiety—one I don’t entirely dislike.
I’m surprised to find the door is already unlocked, so I slip into room forty-four and set my bag on the desk, then pull the door closed, except it doesn’t shut all the way, leaving a one-inch gap. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough that people can see inside. Maybe not much, but still. Not to mention the fact that the majority of the door is an opaque panel through which my silhouette is visible.