Page 62 of Christmas Candy

“Maybe just coffee then?” He tried again.

“No, I don’t want to get involved with anyone I’m tutoring. What if it went badly and then you didn’t have anyone to work with you on papers?” Truth was I wasn’t interested in Pablo, though he was a ridiculously attractive undergrad from Uruguay.

He shrugged. “Never hurts to ask.”

I smiled. “True. I’ll see you Wednesday. This paper is coming along nicely, but work on your transitions, okay?”

“I will. See you then.” He rose and ambled out of my study room, closing the door behind him.

I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out my translation work. With fifteen minutes before my next appointment, I could get at least a few words of my own project finished. I spent at least five minutes agonizing over the correct translation of a single word. The issue with translation from Latin was that it was a dead language, so there was no way to know exactly what feeling or resonance the particular words possessed relative to the total text. For example, the simple translation might be “blue” but a closer analysis of the text could reveal that the author actually meant “azure” or “cerulean” or something else entirely.

I stared at the letters until I had to lean back a bit just to get some context. I let out a short cry of surprise when I saw Eamon leaning against the door frame. How long had he been there? I didn’t even notice the door opening.

“Hi.” He smiled, dimples appearing in his cheeks. He wore a soccer jersey and jeans, his hair still wet from his after practice shower. It was embarrassing that I knew his schedule, but I was so attracted to him that it was painful. Watching him from afar was my only option, and I certainly watched every chance I got.

He ran a hand through his light brown hair. My chest warmed and the feeling spread through my stomach to the apex of my thighs. I squeezed my legs together to try and ward off the sensation.

Eamon was a player. Worse than that, my friend Claudia was head over heels in love with him. He was off limits, no matter how much I craved him.

“Hi.” I wanted to look away, but couldn’t. He kept me still with the weight of his gaze.

“So.” He moved from the wall and sank down in the seat opposite me. “Want to go get some dinner?”

“I-I have an appointment.” My voice quavered and was far breathier than it should have been.

“Mai Ling cancelled.” His smile widened.

“What. How do you kno—”

“It’s true. I just saw her and Pablo heading up to his room.”

My stomach twirled, like a sea of butterflies were shifting and circling. “Well, in that case I should keep working on my translation.” I managed to break his gaze and stared down at my notebook.

“You have to eat, Laurel.”

I closed my eyes, letting his lilting accent sink into my mind. The way he said his ‘l’s had my heart speeding up a beat or fifty faster.

“I do, but I can eat at my dorm room.”

“You’re inviting me to your room?”

I glanced up to him. He still smiled, his eyes full of mischief. I caught the scent of his aftershave and my nipples hardened. He glanced down, no doubt noticing them through my t-shirt.Oh, god.

I pulled my jacket tighter around me and threw my notebook into my backpack. “I should go.”

“Your place it is, then.”

I stood and pulled my backpack on. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but a bloke can hope, right?” He rose and took his position in the doorframe again. He wasn’t threatening – though just the thought of him threatening me had my pussy heating and growing wet – only casually blocking my way.

I walked to him, facing him with a bravado I didn’t feel. “I need to get back. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

He didn’t move as my words trailed off and I met his eyes again. They burned, our bodies too close, the heat radiating from him and into me. His scent, his skin so close.

“Let me buy you dinner.” He reached out and straightened the collar on my jacket, his fingertips grazing my skin.

I closed my eyes from the softness of his touch, though I wanted it much, much rougher. I’d imagined him inside me, fucking me from behind, eating my pussy, giving it to me rough up against a wall – any possible scenario – for months. Once Claudia was asleep, I would touch myself and think about Eamon, his body mastering mine, holding me down, giving me every inch. Color burst in my cheeks and I studied my feet, worried Eamon might somehow be able to read my thoughts.

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