See Me After Class

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See Me After Class Page 32

by Quinn, Meghan


  Coming over here tonight, I never expected to feel this overpowering sense to claim her like this. To mark her as mine and no one else’s. But as I lie here, cock deep inside of her, I know for damn sure I’m not letting go.

  She’s mine.

  Her tongue dances with mine, twirling and seductively twisting. It doesn’t feel like enough. I don’t feel like I can get closer but I need to.

  “More,” I whisper, dragging my mouth to her cheek and down her neck. “I need more, Greer.”

  “Me too,” she says, arching her back when I cup her breast. I pull my hips back and then quickly thrust into her. “Oh God,” she moans, her body tensing against mine. “Again.”

  “You okay?”

  “Perfect. More, Arlo.”

  I drag my tongue up her neck and then thrust again, this time harder, the feeling so delicious that it sends a shockwave through my groin, unleashing the inner beast inside of me. Everything around us fades, and I’m pulsing so fast that I can barely catch my breath.

  “Jesus,” I say heavily, my legs starting to turn numb. “Greer, it’s so fucking good.”

  “Yes,” she whispers, only for her voice to grow louder and louder with every thrust. “Yes, Arlo, yes. Oh my God, Arlo . . . I’m . . . ahhh.” She tenses under me as she cries out in pleasure, her pussy clenching my cock so hard that it almost feels unbearably difficult to keep thrusting.

  She convulses beneath me and I ride out her orgasm, pushing harder and harder, my own pleasure taking over as I fall into a numbing abyss.

  “Oh shit . . . ahhh, fuck, Greer.” My balls tighten, pressure builds in my spine, I bite down on her shoulder, and I come.

  My orgasm rips through me like a blazing fire, burning up every nerve ending, blacking out my vision, and sending me into another world as I come over and over again inside her.

  “Mother . . . fucker,” I breathe out heavily, only to collapse on top of her.

  Greer’s arms wrap around me and she holds me tight, her hand caressing my back.

  Her lips find the side of my cheek, then my cheekbone, then my lips, where I kiss her back. Fierce, claiming her all over again, showing her now through my affection what this means to me. How important this moment is.

  “Greer,” I say in between kisses and trying to catch my breath.

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t think I can leave, even if you kicked me out.”

  “Good, I was planning on you staying. I even bought you a toothbrush.”

  I lift up. “Really?”

  She smiles up at me. “Really.”

  I stroke her cheek softly with the backs of my fingers. “You’re so beautiful, just like this, freshly fucked, no makeup, marked as mine . . . so damn beautiful.”

  “Yours?”

  “All mine.”

  “I like that sound of that, Mr. Turner.”

  Growling, I dip my mouth against her neck and get ready for round two.

  * * *

  “How do you feel?” I ask. Greer is between my legs, against my chest as I lean against the headboard. I have my arms around her and she’s wearing my shirt. We just spent the last four hours fucking.

  Slow.

  Hard.

  We watched each other masturbate. I came before her, and I don’t even fucking care. I couldn’t hold back, not after seeing her like that, legs spread, her hand doing all the work.

  We even fucked on her dining room table, which resulted in breaking it. I promised to buy her a new one.

  “Exhausted and full.”

  After we caught our breath, we ordered some subs, and while we waited, we took a shower and she gave me the best head of my entire life, only for me to return the favor while she was trying to dry off.

  Because . . . because it was Greer. Spectacular, bewitching Greer.

  “What about you?” she asks.

  “Tired.”

  “Want to go to sleep?”

  “Not quite yet,” I say, even though I yawn. “What do you want for breakfast tomorrow morning?”

  “Besides your cock?”

  I chuckle. “Besides that.”

  “Hmm, someplace that’s going to deliver.”

  “Frankie Donuts delivers now.”

  “Really?” she asks, her voice rising in interest, but the rest of her body’s relaxed, completely sated.

  “Yeah. Maybe we order a breakfast sandwich, split that and get some donuts?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She yawns as well and then turns in my embrace so she’s cuddled into me. “Tonight was perfect, Arlo.”

  “Better than the boat?” I tease.

  She kisses my chest. “The boat was the foreplay. But this, this was intimate and just what I needed with you. I needed to make sure you were in this—”

  “Hey, I told you I was,” I say, lifting her chin and placing a soft kiss on her lips.

  “I know, but you were so hot and cold before, so when you changed your mind, it felt like a one-eighty, one that was too good to be true.”

  “It’s not. It’s real. I keep checking to make sure it is.”

  “Did you ever think we’d get to this place, after our first interaction?”

  I sift my fingers through her hair as I talk quietly. “Honestly, no. I was attracted to you right away, but your classroom jam sessions really drove me nuts, especially on the first day, when I establish dominance.”

  “Oh my God, listen to yourself. Establish dominance. These are high schoolers.”

  “High schoolers that need rules. If not, you lose control of the classroom.”

  “I haven’t lost control.” I can feel her tense up, and I don’t want to get into a fight about this.

  “How about we leave our teaching techniques out of conversation.”

  She presses up on my chest to look me in the eyes. “We can have a mature conversation about teaching, Arlo. We don’t have to shove our differences under a rug.”

  “I understand that, but I just had one hell of a night with you. The last thing I want to do is talk teaching techniques, especially since we’re polar opposites in our style.” I rub my thumb over her cheek. “Please, I want to enjoy this quiet time with you.”

  She places her hand on mine. “Okay. Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” I bring my hand back to her hair when she lies down on my chest. “Now tell me a story about your childhood.”

  “What kind of story?”

  “Any kind,” I say. “I just want to listen.”

  For my heart is finally open to hearing someone else’s voice.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  GREER

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the girl who’s boinking my brother.”

  And Arlo said she’d be cool. I shouldn’t have trusted that for a second.

  “Cora, please—”

  “I’m just messing with you.” She brings me into a big hug. “I could not be more excited for you two.” Taking me by the hand, she pulls me into Arlo’s house and straight to the kitchen, where Arlo is cutting up vegetables. He’s wearing simple jeans and a T-shirt. But instead of his hair being styled, he’s sporting a Bobbies baseball cap and, for some reason, seeing him in a hat, so casual, makes my stomach flutter.

  “Your girl is here,” Cora announces.

  Arlo’s eyes shoot up and connect with mine. The corner of his lips turn up and he sets the knife down to round the kitchen island. Stepping up to me, he lifts my chin and presses a very soft kiss across my lips.

  “Oh God, that’s so sweet and disgusting at the same time.”

  “Is anyone else here?” I ask in a panic.

  “No, you’re the first,” he says softly, before returning to the vegetables.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Cora asks, tossing an orange around. “Are we announcing to everyone? We can throw together a song and dance that introduces you guys. Won’t take us more than five minutes. Might be fun.”

  Arlo eyes me as he says, “We won’t be announcing anything.”
>
  “But you just kissed her in front of me.”

  “Because you know. That doesn’t mean we’re about to tell everyone else.”

  “So, it really is a secret? Well, then.” She rubs her hands together. “I’m ready to hold this in the vault, but I’d like to be compensated at some point for my valiant efforts.”

  “I think you staying here is compensation enough.”

  “No way.” She stabs the kitchen island with her finger. “I have squatter’s rights because I’m your sister. You can’t use housing as a bartering technique. Try again.”

  “She has a point,” I say, earning a brow raise from Arlo.

  “Okay, how about all the cookies I’ve bought for you, or the calzones you need to have every Friday night?”

  “Squatter’s rights. You have to feed the squatter.”

  “I really don’t,” Arlo says, chuckling before he sets down the knife again. “Am I going to have to buy you something sparkly?”

  “I believe that would be the proper payment at this point.”

  “Fine.”

  Clapping, Cora turns to me and says, “And that’s how you wear him down. Take note for future reference.”

  “Trust me, she can wear me down a lot faster than that,” Arlo mumbles while putting the vegetables on the plate.

  “Oh, I think he’s talking about sex. Gross.” Cora comes up to me and gives me a hug. “I really am happy for you two. And be warned. He can be an idiot, so when he fucks up—because he will—be sure to hear him out.”

  “Thanks, Coraline.” Arlo rolls his eyes.

  “Anytime. I’m going to go change.”

  “You’re actually going to put on clothes?” Arlo asks with a smirk.

  “Don’t be an ass, I have a secret of yours,” Cora calls out while going up the stairs.

  “I can see her using that a lot.” After he washes his hands and sets the cutting board and the knife in the sink, he leans against the counter and beckons me with his finger.

  I waste no time. When I reach him, he lazily drapes his hands on my hips and leans down for a kiss. I reach up, cupping his cheeks, and give him what he wants.

  “How are you feeling?” he whispers.

  “A little sore,” I say, tugging on the brim of his hat.

  “Just a little?”

  I chuckle. “Maybe a lot sore.”

  “Hell, I’m sorry.” He draws his hands up and down my back. “I should have taken it easy this morning.”

  “I particularly liked how hard you were.” I wink.

  “Your poor neighbors.”

  I shrug. “Don’t know them, don’t care.” I lift up on my toes and kiss his jaw. “When are we going out again? I’m starting to become addicted to our dates.”

  “Me too. And whenever you want. I can plan something for Wednesday again.”

  I rub my hands over his pecs, remembering just how thick and strong they are. His entire body looks like it’s chiseled from stone. While wearing his cardigans, you can see that the man is fit, but I never would have dreamed how fit he actually is. I pawed at him every chance I got last night and this morning, hence why I’m so sore. It wasn’t really him being greedy; it was me. I wanted more and more of him, and the more I got, the more it set off my need. It’s grown so deep that even though it hurts to walk, I want to take him back to his office and let him have his way with me.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Huh?” I ask, smiling up at him.

  He squeezes me tight and presses a kiss to my forehead while laughing. “I think you’re hornier than me.”

  “That would be accurate,” I say.

  “If you weren’t so sore, I’d take you up to my bedroom right now.”

  “Really? If that’s the case, I’m not sore at all. I was just playing around.”

  He laughs into my ear and whispers, “Nice try, babe.”

  The doorbell rings, and I say, resting my head against his chest, “This is going to be painful.”

  “Want me to come over tonight?” he asks, surprising me. When I glance up at him, he adds, “Strictly to make out, maybe some over-the-clothes touching, nothing more.”

  I chuckle. “There better be more, and I’d love that. Think Cora will be fine?”

  “Yes, she’s a big girl who is blackmailing me. I’m going to take advantage of it as much as possible.”

  He presses one more kiss to my lips and then walks to the entryway. Infatuated, I watch his backside retreat, remembering how glorious that backside is naked. So many images are floating through my head from last night.

  Arlo standing before me, his cock hard as stone, waiting for my mouth.

  Arlo in the shower, washing my hair gently, taking his time, growing hard in my hand as he soaps up my breasts.

  Arlo in a pair of jeans and nothing else, grabbing our breakfast delivery from the door and then serving me on my bed because we busted my table.

  Arlo—

  “Are you okay?” I blink a few times and catch Stella, Romeo, and Gunner all staring at me. Arlo is behind them, chuckling to himself. “You were literally just mumbling something about sexy pecs.”

  Dear Jesus, was I?

  “And I think there’s drool in the corner of her mouth,” Romeo points out.

  “And I hate to be that person,” Stella continues, “but your nipples are incredibly hard.”

  Every eye in the kitchen falls to my nipples that, in fact, are very hard.

  Looking back at them, and then at Arlo, and then at them again, I laugh awkwardly and say, “Uh, I was, uh, thinking about”—I clear my throat—“well, you know how . . . uh, cucumbers can be very—” I clear my throat again. “Woo, is it dry in here? It’s dry, I think. Anyone else need a drink?” I wave my hand in front of my face.

  “What’s happening with you?” Stella asks. “You’re turning red.”

  “Am I? Maybe I have a rash.” I cup my hand over my mouth and pretend to shout, “Call the ambulance, this girl’s on fire.”

  Arlo snorts, while the others look at me as if I’ve lost it.

  “Menopause,” I say, lips thinned, nodding my head. “I’ve hit menopause. At such a young age, too. These eggs are all fried up,” I say, motioning to my ovaries. When they stare blankly, I keep talking. “Not really, I can still offer up kin—God, that feels like something Keeks would say.” I press my hand against my forehead, then quickly remove it and rub my hand against my shirt. “Oof, that’s clammy. Anyone else a little clammy? Just me? Yeah . . .” I swallow hard. “Just me. So . . . anyone ready to play badminton?”

  No one answers. They just stare. Their eyes questioning me. Their facial expressions confused . . .

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine, just beat it out of me, won’t you? Yes, the rumors are true.”

  “What rumors?” Stella asks.

  “Uh . . . Greer,” Arlo says, taking a step forward.

  “Arlo and I are seeing each other. Are you happy? God, stop badgering me.” I throw my arms up in the air and then sink against the counter.

  They all turn to Arlo, who is standing there in shock.

  A moment of silence falls over us.

  Then Gunner says, “Son of a bitch.”

  “Ha, I fucking told you.” Romeo holds his hands out to Stella and Gunner. “Pay up, bitches.”

  Gunner digs into his wallet, shaking his head, while Stella rifles through her purse. “I can’t believe you were right,” Gunner mumbles, slapping a twenty into Romeo’s hand.

  “This is your fault he’s right,” Stella says to me while she retrieves a twenty. “You shouldn’t be taking money from a poor schoolteacher. It’s tacky,” she says to Romeo.

  “I’m a schoolteacher too.”

  “Who used to play professional baseball and make a lot of money.”

  “Pfft, for a few years.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Stella pushes at his chest and then flops her purse on the kitchen island. “Honestly, you two couldn’t h
ave kept it in your pants?” She points to Arlo now. “You owe me twenty dollars.”

  Cora comes barreling down the stairs, a giant smile on her face. “Hey, everyone. What’s new? Anything happen this past week—”

  “Greer and Arlo are together,” Romeo says, fanning his face with his two twenty-dollar bills.

  “What?” Cora snaps. “I thought I was the only one who knew. Does this mean I don’t get something sparkly?”

  “Nope,” Arlo says with a grin.

  “Noooooo.”

  “Looks like you’re ruining everyone’s day,” Stella says before coming up to me and giving me a hug. “Don’t let him push you around, you hear me?” She speaks loud enough for everyone to hear. “I know the cardigans do wicked things to your private parts, but be strong.”

  “Don’t worry, she’s already got me wrapped around her pinky,” Arlo says, coming up to me and placing a kiss on the side of my head.

  All our friends stare at us, bewildered, possibly confused.

  “Uh . . . that’s going to take me a second to get used to,” Gunner says.

  “Yeah,” Romeo draws out. “I know I called it, but it still feels weird.”

  “I’m not ready for this.” Stella shakes her head. “Nope, I’m going to need a second.”

  They all file outside, one right after the other.

  Cora trails behind and, before she’s out the door, she says, “I’m okay with the kissing. Does that get me something sparkly?”

  “Get out of here.” Arlo laughs.

  She shuts the door behind her, leaving me alone with Arlo. I turn toward him and nervously ask, “Are you mad?”

  “No.” He strokes my shoulders. “Surprised, but not angry.”

  “I’m sorry, they were staring at me—”

  “Because you were acting crazy.”

  “Because they were staring. Anyway, it felt like they could see right through me and it freaked me out, and before I knew what was happening, I was spilling the beans. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I’m just glad it wasn’t me.” He presses a kiss to my lips. “But we should probably tell them not to say anything at school.”

 

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