Out in the Offense: Out in College, #3 by Lane Hayes

Author:Lane Hayes [Hayes, Lane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lane Hayes

5

At first, Rory and I stuck to our usual routine. He’d wait for me at our table and greet me with an iced coffee and a roguish smile, but within five minutes we’d be itching for contact. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Knees under the table, fingers brushing over a homework assignment. It was never enough. I was tempted to give in to his suggestion that we just fuck in the bathroom, but we tended to get vocal during sex and the last thing either of us needed was to guest star on someone’s Instagram feed. “Horny QB and tattooed hunk’s walk of shame at a local Starbucks.” No thanks.

After two study sessions, it became apparent that we were torturing ourselves, and I wasn’t learning anything new. Rory suggested we meet at his apartment after practice instead. He’d make me dinner and we’d have a private place to study. And have sex. Within a couple of weeks, I was pretty sure we’d fucked on every available surface in his tiny pad. On the sofa, the floor, the coffee table, over the kitchen counter, in the shower, and of course, in bed. I was semi-erect on the drive to his place, and the second he opened the door, it was over. We careened against the walls in a tangle of limbs, clawing at each other’s clothes in a quest to get to skin while we licked and sucked on lips and tongues.

There was something special about getting to know a new lover. Rory was the perfect combination of rough and tender. The kind of partner who made sure to cradle your head so it didn’t hit the wall when a passionate grinding session heated up faster than expected. He was a big fan of raunchy dirty talk. The naughtier, the better. He loved it when I licked his tits and played with his nipple rings. And he always wanted to know what turned me on. Of course, he had his own style of inquiry. He didn’t hold me gently after an intense orgasm and ask if I enjoyed what we’d done. No. Rory was more likely to growl in my ear and demand to know how hard I wanted it. “You want it harder, baby? Say it. Tell me to fuck you harder.” I always complied and he more than delivered.

After we cleaned up and redressed, he’d fluff an extra pillow and instruct me to sit before he began our tutoring session. Maybe our methods were unorthodox, but they seemed to be working. I didn’t start acing my quizzes right away, but I was definitely getting better. If I kept improving, I’d certainly earn the passing grade I needed. The athletic department would be appeased, and my parents would never know there was ever a doubt. At least, not until my transcript was released to Chilton’s law school. But I’d deal with that later.

For now, I was making progress. I hoped.

I shot a wan smile at the professor’s assistant when he handed over my most recent quiz at the end of class.

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