Page 11 of Side Out

HANDBOOK NEEDED

THEODORE

This fucking boy, I swear on all things holy, he loves to push my buttons. And somehow, in the span of two face-to-face conversations he pressed damn near everyone of those buttons.

?*His cock is hard in the parking garage.

The parking garage is my place of employment.

There’s no handbook for this, or at least not one I remember reading in school. And it certainly isn’t in my employee handbook. I never thought it would be an issue. I have self-control.

Right?!

But then Jax is staring at my mouth, and I watch his lush lips say, “Too late.” I know any semblance of self-control I thought I had is gone in an instant, as lost as the shell I threw into the ocean just a few days ago.

My hands land on his hips, and I grab them with all my might, wanting to leave him with something from me, even knowing I can’t have him. The power he has in his lean body is practically vibrating beneath my skin. His lips are something I could easily become lost in.

And I do.

Pressing my front to his just like we did that night not too long ago, our breaths become one, and the pull I feel toward this man is something I can’t explain. I barely know him. He’s at least ten years my junior. I’m engaged. He’s a student. And yet, all I can think about is how every fiber of my being feels complete when I’m near him.

When I’m touching him.

Like an addict needing their next hit, I let my tongue slide against his in the heat of the moment. My hands roam, grip, and explore every inch within my reach, and his moans are almost enough to get me to forget about the fact that anyone could walk past and see us.

Almost.

It feels like we’ve been in this parking garage for hours, but in reality, I know it’s only been a couple of minutes. I pull away, breaking the spell that has us hooked on each other. My glasses have shifted down my face from all the jostling, and I huff under my breath, “I should’ve worn my contacts.”

Jax purrs, “Your glasses are one of my favorite things about you,Mr. Young. It’s giving very Clark Kent vibes.”

He shoots me a wink, and as much as I don’t want to stop, the logical side of my brain knows we have to. And I realize—“Fuck, Jax. There are cameras out here.” I run my clammy hand through my tousled hair. “I’m going to get fired before my first semester is over.”

“Ahh, ahh, ahh, Mr. Young… do you not know what I do? What I’m going to school for?” His brows are pulling together in question.

“What do I look like, Jax? A stalker?”

He chuckles at that. “Well, from my observations, you very well could be stalking me.” He starts counting on his fingers with each thing he’s noticed I’ve done. “You know my schedule. You stare at me anytime I’m outside. I see you behind me, walking into school most days. You?—”

I smash my lips to his again, trying to get him to stop pointing out the apparent stalking behavior that I definitely have been partaking in.

I would call it a little obsession, though—nothing to be concerned over.

I pull back with a lazy, dazed smile even though my brain is quite literally going a million miles a minute. “Fine. What are you in school for, Jackson?”

“Ooooo. Jackson,” he mocks, and I stare at him deadpan. “Right. Focus. Computer science.”

“And you think you can get into the school’s security system?” I ask in disbelief.

He waves his hand dismissively and puffs out his chest in pride. “Please. My skills rival Kevin Mitnick.”

I raise a brow. “And I’m supposed to know who that is?”

Jax looks at me in disbelief. “Hacked into NORAD. Was one of FBI’s most wanted? You know what… nevermind. Yes. I can erase the footage.”

“How do you know how to do all of this so well, exactly?”

His muscular shoulders shrug. “Grew up in Montana. Outside of sports, school, and chores, there’s not exactly much to do in the winter. One day, I started messing around with computers and coding. Figured out I was good at it, so… I went with it.”

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