Page 31 of Dangerous Pursuit
I'm fighting to blink him back to focus while the last of my pleasure still rolls through me.
There you are.
Xander's lying completely slack, chest expanding violently as he takes deep lungfuls of air, one hand resting on the grass above his head. His eyes are closed and there's this peculiar look of post-orgasm bliss on his face.
Once my brain registers the picture, I lose control of my limbs, my body falling heavily atop his, as though it was waiting for a confirmation of a job well done. Xander gasps when I crush him, then laughs.
"If I'm too heavy," I mumble into his neck between breaths, "you'll have to roll me off you somehow. I don't think I have the strength to move right now."
He laughs again this short, clipped but genuine laughter and drops his hand on my back without grace, the action indicating he doesn't have full control over his body either. "No worries. You're just heavy enough." Then, he adds, "You're the King of Cups."
"What?" I can't decide if it's him that's talking gibberish, or my brain that still lacks blood supply.
He puts his head on the back of my head and shakes his. "Nothing."
We lie like this for a few moments, and as soon as my muscles start cooperating again, I make the effort to lift up and sit on my knees, giving Xander's bones some much needed relief. Despite what he says, me lying down on anyone is a hazard.
"Mmm," I hum, taking in his naked body. "You're quite the sight."
Xander lazily opens his eyes and props himself up on his elbows, not without effort. He looks down at his stomach and winces. "I've nothing to wipe the cum off of me."
I try not to chuckle, but only partly succeed. "It'll dry out."
His eyes snap to mine and he grins, a row of straight white teeth showing. "You're gross. I like it."
I shake my head with a smile, move to haul my ass up, my body screaming like after a good workout and start gathering our clothes, discarded within a ten yard radius.
"Already?" Xander whines when I drop his purple shirt on his chest.
I pull on my pants, remove my phone from my pocket, and look at the screen. "It's four AM."
He sighs, but starts dressing up. "Don't they have earlier shifts in the club?"
"It's anightclub."
"Alright, alright," he says as he buttons up his shirt before tucking in the bottom part. Besides looking a bit wrinkly, he's as good as new. "Guess I can become nocturnal for a while."
He strolls up to me once we're both finished dressing and stops mere inches from me. I make sure to lift my chin in orderto appear even taller and bite my lip to stop myself from smiling. I know he hates it.
Xander fists my t-shirt, pulls sharply, and I have to lean down to prevent him from tearing it. He doesn't stop pulling before my mouth is just an inch from his. "So, Citizen Boo. I've been thinking—"
A high-pitched, nasty sounding squeak cuts him off and our heads snap left simultaneously. Another squeak, as the second wing of a giant barred door opens, followed by a bright, blinding stream of light lasering directly onto our faces.
I squint, while Xander says, "Shit. The janitor," and before I can suggest it, Xander does it, clutching my wrist and pulling, as both of us start running.
"Who's there?" A voice calls behind us as we dash through the field, hand in hand. At first I'm surprised Xander's able to keep up, even leavingmebehind every so often, but then I remember he's a football player, which is, coincidentally, the reason we're here in the first place.
The janitor must have flipped some switches, giant reflectors switching on one by one, and by the time we reach the half-open tunnel, the same one we passed on our way here, the whole field is fully illuminated, bathing us in a harsh artificial glow.
We rush through the tunnel, footsteps echoing off the cement again, this time accompanied by the echo of laughter, and then Xander leads the way through the maze of tiny alleys. We're still running, even though whoever was or wasn't chasing us must have given up a long time ago until we finally jump over a narrow stripe of grass, indicating the spot where the University threshold ends and the public sidewalk begins. We come to a halt, leaning down, propping our palms on our knees, taking asecond to catch our breaths, as if the grass provides some sort of magical wall, making us invisible to whomever might lurk on the other side.
I allow myself three deep inhales before I straighten up, determined to come to before Xander does. He follows suit immediately.
"Damn," he says, his breathing almost back to normal. Almost. "Two workouts in one night. I think I'm good for the rest of the week."
"Two, huh?" I raise a brow. "I don't remember you putting much effort into the first one."
He mocks offense before schooling his features, his eyes darting through the magical wall. "Think he saw us? As in, our faces?"
