Page 88 of Seven+Four

“And the fact that you were fired from Bear-Stone Labs two months ago for attempting to leak confidential information for a very high price has nothing to do with this pretense? Are you even a student at this university?”

Okay, that’s possible since the labs have many employees and I don’t know all of them. But how does Uri know that? He must have used Serena and the CCTV in the lecture hall to use the facial recognition program Rami created or he just called Raph and put his eidetic memory to use.

This whole thing is getting on my nerves now, probably because I’ve reached my tolerance limit. I need to remove those beads now.

“It’s an open lecture,” the guy replies strongly, without denying all the rest. “Who are you? You look familiar. Why are you defending him?”

“Why do you expect an answer?” Uri counters, before leaning toward the student and whispering something low. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I know my boyfriend is threatening him.

Boyfriend. It’s nice to think of him like that.

“Mr. Mahoe,” I call him, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. Still too busy scaring the student to death.

I lift my hand to pull at my braid brushing it against my nipple and the clamp around it. The burn unfurls, spreading to the areola and my whole pec. I barely stifle the moan climbing inside my throat by gritting my teeth hard. I can’t anymore. I suddenly feel a heavy arm wrap around my shoulders, and Uri’s sandalwood scent envelops me.

I look up. He’s staring at me, his eyes moving to my chest and back to my face and down again. He swallows and rakes his teeth over his lower lip, catching the hoop piercing between them. He looks…hungry. Pre-cum drips down my dick as I clench my ass, pushing those beads further inside me. I gasp and Uri tugs me toward the exit as I hear Dr. Dench announcing the end of thelecture. The bodyguards follow us, halting whoever tries to get close.

I feel slightly bad about it, but I really can’t stop to chat with anyone. The cold winter air helps a little, but not much. I’m still on the verge of having an orgasm right here in the middle of the Alumni Walk.

“You did good, Baby Blue. Now it’s time to get your reward,” he whispers darkly, and this time I let the moan free. I really deserve it; I’ve been enduring for the past five hours.

He’s guiding me toward a faculty room, to the temporary office they provided me—a little perk the dean provided me thanks to the donations my company made to the university. We are almost at the door when I hear someone calling my name.

“Sari, darling!”

No!

When I turn, Trent is jogging our way, and I feel Uri pull me closer, tucking me under his arm.

Why now?

I study Trent as he comes closer. His sweet smile has a wicked curve to it, his eyes look open and bright, a bit leery as they travel up and down my body. He seems genuinely happy to see me. I give him a close-mouthed smile.

“Trent,” is all I am capable of saying. Uri is playing with my braid, stroking the end over my burning nipple. Ass!

“I listened to your lecture. Exceptional and erudite as always.” He doesn’t even glance at Uri but keeps his eyes on me.

“Thank you.” My voice sounds high-pitched.

“Your recent study sounds fascinating. I was wondering if you’d like to share a meal together and exchange our thoughts.” Raunchy sex? This guy? I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but really?I’m a clear example of that saying, though.

“He can’t,” Uri replies for me; I feel his breath brushing the top of my head.

Trent's eyes finally acknowledge him, and he opens his mouth, surely to reply, but stops after glancing at me. “Sari, are you okay? You look a little heated.” He takes a step toward me.

I swallow hard, hoping to get some moisture into my dry mouth.

“We need to go,” Uri interjects again.

“Wait. You are one of Sari’s foster brothers, right?” Trent asks. “We met at Bear-Stone Labs a few months back.”

Uri sniffs. His fingers suddenly push the turtleneck down my throat. “Dibs” he whispers in my ear, before giving the sensitive skin a long, toe-curling lick. A flash of me saying the same thing while licking Uri’s neck in a bar pops into my head.

“Uri,” I utter with a trembling voice.

I can feel his cocky smile against my neck, the easy one that can turn ferocious in a blink of an eye. “You mean Sari’s boyfriend,” he clarifies, staring Trent down. I think lapping at my neck in public screams intimacy enough.

Uri has no problem holding my hand, kissing me, or just generally touching me. I wouldn’t call it affection, more like a claim on me to let everybody know—me included—who I belong to.

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