I run my hand along his chest and stroke the firm expanse of his body as he returns to my mouth, our tongues clashing hungrily. I feel the rock-hard length of Talon's cock against my hip and I realize things are about to get real. When he moves to kiss my ear, I say, "Talon, I need to tell you something--Ooooh, shit, that feels good."
He has a hand back on my breast as he kisses me and I swear he's found a string connecting my nipple to my core, because my whole body is vibrating from his attentions.
Suddenly, there's a pounding knock at the door and a deep voice shouts, "Yo, Claw, if you want a ride to PT I'm leaving in five."
Talon groans and rolls onto his back. My eyes are wide as I pull the covers up again. He shouts, "Yep, thanks, man. I'll be right out."
I rustle along the covers for the bag of clothes Talon had brought me and try to slip my jeans on under the blankets. "I'm sorry," I start to say.
"Hey," he puts a hand on my shoulder. "We'll continue this later. I want to hear what you were going to tell me, and I definitely want to hear you moan like that again."
Before I can say a word, he hoists himself up from the bed, gathers his crutches, and starts making his way out of the room.
CHAPTER SIX
After I pull on my clothes, I walk into the living room to find Allissa looking bedraggled. She grins at me and puts an arm around my shoulder. As we walk home, she tells me all about sleeping with CJ Smith.
"I mean, he's a total man-whore. Obviously I'm not going to see him, but it was fantastic sex." She buys me a coffee and tells me the highlights before grabbing my arm. "Shit, Serena. I keep forgetting you've still got your v-card…unless maybe you don't anymore?"
She raises an eyebrow but I just smile into my coffee. "Still carrying the card, I'm afraid." I started out college so busy studying that I just never had time to date anyone. Now, as a junior, I still study hard, but the idea of romance seems less important somehow. I mostly want to get it out of the way.
"So do you think you'll give it up to Talon? Did you guys do anything? You seemed super drunk last night."
I briefly fill her in on the story, but thinking of Talon's mouth skillfully lavishing my nipples causes me to flush again, so I change the subject back to how I should approach my stats class with Matt next week.
By Tuesday morning, I'm ready to walk into class and pretend like nothing happened. I'm wearing my usual uniform of dark jeans, SCU t-shirt, and SCU-green Saucony's. I've got my hair thrown into what I hope is my least-attractive sloppy bun, and I sit in my usual seat up front, totally avoiding eye contact but prepared to raise my hand and join in the discussion.
Just before the bell rings, as is becoming a habit, Talon disrupts the class by clattering in the door. Today, for some frustrating reason, he doesn't take the seat behind me. Instead, he nudges my leg with his crutch and says, "Hey, move in one."
I furrow my brow, not quite believing he really expects me to move out of my seat when there are a half dozen empty chairs to choose from, but he smiles and keeps poking my leg with his crutch. I roll my eyes and slide over. When he sits down he seems to spill from the chair until he takes all of my space as well. "What the hell, Talon?"
He leans in, much closer than I'd like, and whispers, "I want to see if I can make you moan again in class." Talon must see the furious look on my face, because he leans back toward his own chair, smiling, and says, "Easy, there. I can wait until later."
I can barely pay attention to the discussion. My thoughts zoom between embarrassment, admiration for Matt Jacobs, and the memory of Talon's expert tongue. I had been about to tell him I was a virgin when we were fooling around in his bed. The more I think about it, though, the less I want him to know. He's not wrong about making me moan. I can tell that sleeping with him will be amazing, but I also know Talon is a ladies man. Whatever this is, it will not be a relationship, and he doesn't seem like he'd be interested in being anyone's first time.
"Serena? Ms. Sanders?"
I jolt back to the present moment. Matt Jacobs is calling on me. Shit. "I'm sorry, can you repeat the question?" From the corner of my eye, I can see Talon chuckling. Matt says, "I was asking your thoughts about data presentation with sports statistics."
I feel relief flood over me. I can ad lib about sports statistics for hours. "Oh, right. Well for something like running or golf, I think a dot plot works really well, but for more complex sports statistics, you're really looking at so many charts…most teams and coaches rely on discussion and analysis for developing their strategy. But when Coach Burns here at SCU opts for the short pass and bubble screen in short yardage situations, for instance, he is looking at rushing and passing trends over time…"
I can feel the class staring at me with open mouths. Matt meets my eye and there's no trace of awkwardness.
