I’ve been wrangling to control my dick since my eyes met her porcelain skin bounding out the top of that red lace bra. I’m trying to be a gentleman but my thoughts are the definition of carnal. I’ve seen her in the flesh and that photo that went around is nothing compared to the real thing. Smooth white skin, stretched tight to contain her breast. Fuck me, her beauty is boundless. My fingers have been itching to touch her, my tongue battling for a taste.
My shirt is hugging her ribs, rolling up at the waist, giving me a glimpse of her creamy skin. My tongue clicking my teeth dying for a sample, my dick in the permanent upright position.
Would she slap me if I touch her?
Would it be worth it to feel her under my fingers?
Hell, yes it would.
Does she realize that my name is on the back of the shirt? Coach told us only a few people can have them. I smile inside that she’s branded with the word “Black” across her back. I feel like beating my chest and giving a caveman roar. Baby steps. I need to take baby steps with this girl, I think, putting my caveman back in his box.
I need to figure out a way to spend more time with this girl. Think, think, think.
“Are you taking Advanced English Comp this semester?” I ask.
“No, why?”
“English isn’t one of my strong points. If you were taking it, I was going to ask for your help.”
Stopping, her hands fisted on her hips, her eyes hardening, she fumes, “I’m not writing your papers for you, Kohl. Is that why you’re being nice to me, so I’ll do your homework for you?”
Shit, this took a wrong turn fast. Trying to make a little small talk and I dig myself into a bigger hole. I’m going to need a shovel to get out of this mess.
“No, I want someone to be a proofreader, someone to make sure my work isn’t shit,” I reply, nudging her shoulder, “How about Dr. P’s class, have you started on your bully assignment yet?” I ask, hoping to put the pin back in the grenade I just launched.
Raising one eyebrow, she eyes me from behind her thick lenses, “No, I’m working on it tonight after study group.”
Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she hesitates. My eyes zero in on her mouth, I want to bite it. Holding her chin, using my thumb I softly pull her lip from her teeth. Fighting the urge to soothe the teeth marks she left behind with my tongue. She gasps blushing redder than the cold has already turned her cheeks, recoiling from my touch.
“I-I guess I can look at your English papers when you get them done. You can email them to me,” she offers wringing her gloved hands together.
“I work better one on one. We could set a time to meet. In the library maybe? What study group do you have?” I have her where I want her, now I must reel in my catch.
“One for my human brain class. It’s my friend Wren and me, cause no one else shows up. Do you know Wren? Wren Morris, the other kid on campus that’s my age?”
Anger inches up my spine. A sore spot blooming in my heart. Is that jealousy? Am I jealous that this guy gets to study with her, that he’s her age? I’ve seen Wren, he’s in my English class. Skinny, scrawny guy. Maybe five foot seven inches, if even that. Big ears, big nose, his head shaped like an egg with dirty blonde floppy hair. Nah, I can’t be jealous of him; must be something I ate.
“Yeah, I have English with Wren,” I grumble.
“Do you want to get together after my group?” she offers.
“What time?”
“Eleven p.m.”
“I can’t, I work out every night at eleven,” I say.
Damn it, now what? Do I give up my work out? I’m pondering when an idea blooms in my head, “Hey, why don’t you come join me? Keep me company while I work out?” I suggest.
Her mouth in a grim line, she scowls at me, “Do I look like I work out?”
“I don’t mean for you to work out. Just sit there and talk to me. The gym’s always empty that late and I could use someone to push me. We could talk about our classes?” I offer hopefully tempting her with her love of school.
Looking up to the wet, salt covered steps of the Social Sciences building, I realize, I’m out of time. I can see the wheels turning behind her eyes, she’s thinking deeply about my offer. This could be my way in. Come on, Ten; you know you want to, I think.
Chapter Six
The best thing about Social Media is the filters that make your face all wonky and your voice sounds like a chipmunk.
—Ronnie to Tensanne
Tensanne
HE’S SMILING AT me. One side of his mouth rises further than other. A flaw, I found a flaw in his perfection. His smile is dropping. Oh, he asks me a question.
“So, you want me to just sit there and talk to you? That’s it?” I probe.
“Yes”
“I-I guess I can. If I don’t have to do anything, I’ll meet you at the campus gym.” What the hell am I doing? Why am I agreeing to this? I just couldn’t tell him ‘no’. His eyes looked so happy at the thought of me being there.
His smile tilts all the way up to its blinding, panty-melting position, lighting his sea-colored eyes, “Great, see you then,” he calls backing away from me.
Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for the class ahead. Another class with Chase Masters. Blowing out a breath slowly, carefully I ascend the icy stairs into the building.
A tall brick building with three floors. A tower spire in the center with pointed
