Damn, I need a drink.
Or several.
Absently, I walk from the kitchen to the short hallway that leads back to my bedroom, my feet carrying me there before I even realize that I’ve moved.
Drinking won’t solve any of the problems I’m currently facing, and in fact might actually make those problems worse.
But my track record for doing the smart, responsible thing so far today is basically non-existent. Yeah, I might have kept myself from completely crossing the line with one of my students, but it shouldn’t have been so hard.
It shouldn’t have felt like such a test of my willpower.
And I shouldn’t still be second-guessing myself.
Still, there’s no denying the fact that I feel more like a horny teenager right now than the forty year old, mature, responsible man I’m supposed to be.
My cock stirs, proving my point. Wasn’t a man’s sex drive supposed to slow down with age?
I nearly laugh at the thought.
I feel like I need sex now more than I ever have. The only difference between twenty-year-old me and forty-year-old me is that I actually give a damn about who I want to fuck now.
Nameless, faceless men won’t do.
Quick, anonymous hookups don’t interest me—not even a little bit.
No, the only man I want to see—and touch, and taste—naked in my bed right now is the one I absolutely cannot have. The one I shouldn’t even be allowing myself to think about.
Colton.
My cock responds to the thought of him with another insistent jerk, and I reach down to free it, stepping out of my pants and shedding my boxers as I walk from my bedroom to the bathroom. I shrug out of my shirt and turn on the shower until the water is hot enough to start steaming up the mirror.
I might not be able to have my sweet boy, but I’ve given up trying to keep him out of my fantasies.
The water is so hot that it takes my breath away as soon as I step into the shower, but that’s exactly the way I want it. It’s the kind of pleasure that only comes with a little pain, and my hand returns instinctively to my cock as I close my eyes and let the sensation wash over me.
Yeah, this is what I need right now. It’s a start, at least.
Green eyes and red lips are the first images my mind conjures, and I groan as I imagine them looking up at me right now.
That’s right, beautiful. Keep those sexy eyes up here while you suck me.
I’ve been hard all fucking day just from thinking about him, and I know this won’t take long. It never does when I imagine those sweet lips wrapped around my shaft or that eager, obedient look that seems to be his automatic response when I call his name.
So sweet.
So willing.
I reach down with my free hand to grab my balls, gently pulling and massaging them as I imagine them slapping against Colton’s chin.
They’re so full and tight that it’s almost painful, and my hips thrust forward as I stroke faster. I’m so close to the edge now that I can’t stop the needy moan that’s rumbling up from my chest, can’t stop his name from escaping my lips.
“Colton,” my voice is low and thick with desire. “My… good boy… fuck.”
The orgasm rushes through me with an intensity that nearly makes my knees buckle, and I lean back against the cool tile, sucking in a sharp breath at the contrast with the steaming hot water.
I brace myself as the first hot jets spill over my fist, the water instantly washing away the evidence of my fantasy.
For several long moments, all I can do is stand there panting, one hand on my cock as I steady myself with the other. Slowly, I open my eyes. My vision is still a little blurry, my movements still a little shaky as I go through the motions of lathering and rinsing my body.
As good as that release was, I can already tell that it wasn’t enough. I’m not sure anything short of having him here with me will ever be enough.
But no.
I can’t go there—not even in the privacy of my own thoughts.
The fact is that I want him too badly. I want to claim what should already be mine.
My sweet boy.
Fuck.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.
Or why the fuck I came here.
The thought of being alone tonight was enough to make me want to drink, and I hate drinking alone. So here I am, sitting at a bar.
Alone.
Oh, there are a handful of cute guys in here—a gay bar in a college town is always bound to have some fresh, new faces.
It’s the main reason I ended up here tonight, despite knowing I’ll very likely run into at least one or two former or future students.
I’m not planning on taking any of them home, of course. None of them are Colton.
But that’s the other reason I’m here—because none of them are Colton.
I need to get him out of my head. I have to.
Lusting after a student isn’t just a bad idea. It’s against the rules. It could get me fired.
If I’m going to get laid at all tonight or any other night, it can’t be with any of the cute young guys here.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t look, especially if it gives me some new jerk-off material.
“Can I get you another beer?” The bartender throws me a wink. “Or maybe a shot? Something that might help wipe that frown off your face?”
I’m tempted to go for the shot. I can always get a cab home if I need to.
But no.
I’m not here to get shitfaced, as tempting as it might be. And the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced I shouldn’t even be here at all.
Doing my best to give a smile that I’m pretty sure ends up as a grimace, I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’ve, uh… gotta go soon.”
“You sure, handsome?” His eyes linger on mine for a moment. “Not even if it’s my treat?”
I can’t tell if he’s actually flirting or just trying to brighten my day, but I shake my head again. On a better night, I’d see just how friendly he might be willing to get, but… not this time.
“Thanks,” I say, giving him a genuine smile this time. “But not tonight.”
“You know where to find me if you change your mind.” One more wink and he’s off again, leaving me to nurse my nearly empty beer bottle for a few more minutes.
From the corner of my eye, I see the door open. More college guys, from the looks of it.
Yeah, it’s definitely time for me to go.
Sighing, I start to stand up and then suck in a sharp breath as the world stops spinning around me. Or maybe I’ve stopped and the world has sped up. It’s hard to tell as my eyes focus on the only thing that matters to me right now.
“Colton,” my voice is thankfully just above a whisper, so there’s no chance of him hearing me across the crowded bar.
Instinctively, I take a step toward him, then stop myself again.
No.
No.
I will not go over to him. I will not talk to him. Not here. Not like this.
But then I catch his eye and see the flicker of recognition as he squints in my direction. And even though I’m still willing myself not to move, it doesn’t matter.
Because he’s moving, and before I can think of anything else, he’s standing in front of me.
Fuck.
I know I should leave now. I should have already left. But now that I’ve seen him, I can’t stand the thought of leaving him here—drunk, from the looks of it—to be picked up by some other guy.
A hot flash of irrational anger rises up inside me at that thought.
No.
That’s not happening.
I’m still going to leave, but now my plans have changed a little.
Colton is leaving here with me.
Chapter Four
Colton
I look up at the flashing neon sign and grimace. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I mutter to my roommate, Brian, as he reaches for
the door. “I don’t understand why we couldn’t just keep drinking at the dorm. We still have plenty of liquor back there and—”
“Because,” he says, giving me an exasperated sigh. “You’re not gonna get laid in the dorms. Or, well… maybe you could, but I don’t think you’d try.”
“I’m not gonna get laid here, either,” I say, shooting him A Look. “I never would have agreed to come here if I thought you would actually go through with it.”
“But you did say yes, and that’s the part that matters.” he grins as he opens the door and motions for me to step inside. “Besides, even if this wasn’t the only gay bar in town—and therefore your best chance of getting laid tonight—their drinks are stronger and cheaper than any of the bars near campus. So that makes it a win for me, too. Come on. You’re already half-drunk. Everything should be easier from here on out.”
I’m pretty sure there are some flaws in his logic, and I would be more than happy to go through each one of them if I could stop my body from swaying to this thumping beat that I can feel vibrating through every part of me.
I also can’t quite get my brain to wrap around the fact that my first time in a gay bar should be with my very straight dorm roommate. Still, he’s pretty much an expert at picking people up in bars, so maybe there is a chance he could be right. I could get laid tonight.
Maybe.
Probably not.
But… maybe.
And now that I’ve officially been twenty-one years old for a couple of weeks, I’d say it’s definitely time to lose my virginity.
I just never thought it would happen like this. In a bar. With Brian as my wingman. It’s all a little weird.
I definitely need another drink.
We show our driver’s licenses to the bouncer at the door and I can’t stop myself from flashing him a grin as he takes a second look at mine.
That’s right. Legal.
“Happy late birthday,” he says, returning the smile. “Hope you have a good time tonight.”
“Oh, he will,” Brian says, grabbing my arm and pulling me further into the bar. “He’s gonna have a really good time.”
I cling to him for a moment, trying to steady myself after he nearly pulls me off my feet. “Maybe we should go sit down at the bar before we have another drink,” I say, only letting go once I’m mostly sure I’m not going to fall over. “I think that last shot we had in the room is hitting me.”
“Good,” he says, grinning. “Let’s get another one. Come on.”
He starts to pull me again, but I bat his hand away. “You’re gonna make me fall,” I hiss. “And then I’m never going to get laid. Plus you’re making it look like we’re together. Like, together-together.”
“Oh, right,” he nods. “Sorry.” He jerks his head toward the bar impatiently. “Come on, though. We don’t have time to waste.”
He’s already moving again, thankfully without dragging me along behind him this time. I just need a second to collect my thoughts and maybe stop the room from spinning.
I look around, wondering if it’s a good sign or a bad one that there are already a few guys looking back at me. I feel my face start to flush as I scramble to catch up with Brian.
Yeah, I’m definitely going to need a little more liquid courage if I’m going to talk to anyone in here.
I focus my attention on the bar. I can see the back of Brian’s head as he weaves through the small crowd of people standing between us and the promise of more liquor. This place is small and loud, so even though there can’t be more than a couple dozen guys in here right now, it’s starting to feel claustrophobic.
I need to catch up with Brian, but my feet just aren’t moving fast enough.
Focus.
Walk.
Try not to look stupid.
Right. I can do this.
I can feel the eyes on me as I take another step toward the bar, but it’s a different sort of feeling. I can’t even begin to describe it, but I know this feeling. I look up just as the group of guys in front of me shifts a little and stop dead in my tracks again.
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
It’s Professor Bradshaw. Here. In this bar. This gay bar.
Okay.
O-kay.
That doesn’t mean anything, right? Brian is here, and he isn’t gay. He’s super not-gay, in fact.
Still… Professor Bradshaw. What are the odds?
I should go. I should turn around right now and leave. I’ll text Brian once I’m outside and we will go back to the dorms like I wanted to do in the first place.
Except… he sees me. I know he does. He’s staring at me right now with that same hard, familiar look that I know so well.
His lips move, and even though I’m too far away to hear him, I swear he just said my name.
My feet are moving again, but they’re going in the wrong direction. I should be leaving, but I’m somehow getting closer to him instead.
Oh my God. I can’t do this. Why am I doing this? What am I going to say?
I’m standing in front of him now and there’s no turning back. I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing or why I can’t seem to make my body cooperate with my brain, but he’s looking at me with a mixture of surprise and curiosity and I have to say something.
“You’re here,” I say, inwardly cursing myself. Of all the things I could have said, latch onto the painfully obvious.
He slowly nods. “I am.”
Professor Bradshaw is still looking at me like he can see right through me, and even with all the noise and the people around us, I’ve never felt so vulnerable and exposed.
I can tell that he wants to say something. I can see it in his eyes as they move over me, taking everything in.
Before either of us can say anything else, though, I feel a tug on my arm. “Come on, Colton,” Brian says, completely oblivious to the fact that my shoes have turned to cement and that the object of every single fantasy I’ve had for weeks is standing right in front of me. “I’ve already ordered shots and a round of drinks. That bartender said you can have one on the house if you get your ass—”
“No,” Professor Bradshaw interrupts with a glare that makes me flinch. Except he isn’t looking at me anymore. His eyes flick from the spot where Brian is touching my arm up to Brian’s surprised face. “Colton isn’t going to drink anymore tonight. Not here.”
He throws me a quick glance, but I feel just as surprised as Brian looks. Of all the things I imagined might happen tonight, this scenario never even crossed my mind. Not even close.
But then my professor surprises me all over again.
“In fact,” he continues, turning his attention fully back to me even though it seems like he might still be talking to Brian. “He’s not staying here at all.”
I swallow hard. I can feel Brian’s hand let go of my arm, but he’s still standing close enough for me to feel the tense vibes radiating between the two men.
Never in a million years would I have pictured Brian and Professor Bradshaw fighting over me. The situation would be comical if it wasn’t so uncomfortable.
I’m suddenly aware that they’re both staring at me now as if waiting for me to say something. I look between them and swallow again, trying to grasp the thread of what in the holy hell is going on.
“I’m… I’m not staying?” I ask, hoping that whatever the professor is trying to say becomes a little clearer. I don’t really understand why he’s trying to throw me out of this bar, but I’m not about to argue. Going back to the dorms feels like the best possible idea right now.
“No,” he shakes his head, then reaches for my shoulder—just like he did earlier today—and says something that makes me feel light-headed.
More light-headed.
“You’re coming with me.” Professor Bradshaw pauses and looks over at Brian as if he’s daring my roommate to object. “Right now.”
“What the fuck is happening?” Brian asks, turning his back to the professor an
d putting his body between the two of us. “Are you okay? Is this guy for real?”
He’s giving a voice to all the questions that have been racing through my own mind for the past couple of minutes. I’m honestly not sure what is happening or if any of it is real, but if it is a dream, I really, really want to find out how it ends.
“I’m okay,” I say, nodding. “It’s fine. I… I know him.”
Brian squints at me, no doubt thinking I’ve lost my mind. And maybe I have. But crazy or not, I trust Professor Bradshaw. I don’t know where we’re going, but I’m ready.
“And you’re leaving?” Brian asks, still incredulous. “But the drinks… they’re free.”
I nod. “I’ve gotta go.”
It’s the simple truth.
Not only is Professor Bradshaw clearly ready to get out of here—for me to go with him—but the way he’s still got a possessive hand on my shoulder and is rubbing little circles into my skin has made my whole body come alive.
If I don’t leave not—like, right now—I’m going to turn into one big, walking erection.
“Okay…” Brian exhales and looks back over his shoulder to give the bar a longing glance. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” I say, already letting the professor’s hand guide me toward the door. “I’ll, um… I’ll call you later.”
It’s the best I can offer since I don’t know where we’re going or how long until we get there. All I know for sure is that I really am leaving with Professor Bradshaw.
This is actually happening.
Please, God, don’t let it end.
Chapter Five
Nick
I must be crazy.
I must want to end my career in a flaming fireball of scandal.
That’s the only explanation for what I’m doing. The only rational explanation, anyway.
And of course I don’t want to end my career like that, and I don’t think I’m completely crazy, but I honestly don’t have a good excuse for why Colton Hart is sitting in the passenger seat of my car, looking like a scared little lamb.
Teaching Him Page 2