Page 97 of Brat Baby
What the hell just happened?
Did nearly killing me actually make him come?
Is that a thing?
And did I like it?
Because…I kind of think I did. But maybe that’s the post-orgasm glow talking? I’ll have to think about it later when I can’t feel his semi-hard cock between my ass cheeks and my pussy isn’t begging to be filled again.
Fuck.
A noise from beyond my door has me bolting upright. Shit. Oakley is awake.
Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. I look at him over my shoulder. “Want to stay in here, and I’ll go make you some tea? You know, with the bags you left in the kitchen when you broke in last week?”
Xavier tucks a hand behind his head and uses his other hand to run his fingers up and down my spine, eliciting a shiver from me. “I didn’t break in.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“I have a security pass.”
“And where did you get that, exactly? Because only three people should have access to this dorm—Oakley, the RA, and me.”
“Copied yours.”
My mouth drops open, and I plan to say something, but honestly, I’m not even surprised. So I change tactics, because what’s the point in arguing with him? “Tea? Yay or nay?”
“Yay,” he replies, hazel eyes twinkling and that fucking boyish smirk appearing. And, crap, is that a motherfucking dimple?
Goddamn it.
With a huff, I get out of bed and drag on whatever clothes I can find, which oh, look at that, it’s the pjs he removed from my body when he woke me up before fucking me last night.
My pussy twinges with discomfort as I pull the shorts up, but there is still so much heat in the area. And I already know that, after this morning’s railing, sitting down in my classes today is going to be uncomfortable.
I slip out of the room, trying to keep the door as closed as possible and head over to the kitchen. Oakley is already there, hair piled high in what I’m coming to think of as her signature lopsided scrunchie bun and with a hot cup of something clasped in both hands just below her face.
Her face flushes pink when she sees me, and she ducks her head, avoiding eye contact. “Ah, good morning. You—I, ah. Yes.”
I side-eye her as I fill the brand-new electric kettle with water and put it back on its little stand thingy to boil. “Good morning. You okay?”
“Yep,” she squeaks and steps to the side. Somehow, her face gets even redder. “I, ah, I may have… heard, ah, you. This morning.” She quickly holds up a hand between us, in a gesture that screamsI’m innocent. “And that’s totally cool. What a girl does, alone, in the privacy of her own room is totally her business. But, yeah, it was a bit loud.”
Rolling my lips into my mouth as she rambles on is the only thing stopping me from bursting out with laughter. Which would be totally in appropriate and shit, because, honestly, I’d be a little freaked out if I heard her getting freaky on her own in her room.
Slowly, I reach for two mugs, and as I place them down on the counter, I turn to face her. “First, I’m sorry you had to hear that, I’ll try to keep it down in the future. But also, I wasn’t alone.”
Her mouth falls open and her eyes dart in the direction of my bedroom like she can see through the wall. “You brought someone home? But what about your plan to get your daddies back?”
I give her a “are you kidding me” look, mixed with a little “Oakley, don’t be so naïve” as I open the tea bag box and pull out two.
It takes her a second, but then…
“Oh, ohhhhhh. It’s one of them?” she whisper-squeaks, turning to face me squarely. “Ems, are you serious right now? You fucked a professor in your dorm room?”
“And in one of their offices yesterday,” I add helpfully, which only increases her shock.
“Emery!”
