Just for a Little While

by Fiona Cole

  I almost lost it when everything I wanted became a reality, and her perfect, arrogant mouth wrapped around my dick and slid down, pulling back up, leaving a wet sheen behind.

  Was there anything sexier?

  I buried my hand in her hair and watched her bounce up and down, stopping every once in a while at the top to roll her tongue around the tip and suck on it like a popsicle. Each time she dropped, she’d go a little lower, pushing me past the soft barrier of her throat.

  “One of these days, I’m going to lay you across my desk with your head hanging off, and I’m going to fuck your face. I’m going to watch my fat cock bulge against your throat over and over again until you swallow every fucking drop.”

  She couldn’t respond with her mouth so full, but her answering moan let me know she liked it. The way she spread her thighs and rubbed at herself through her jean shorts let me know she was just as turned on as me.

  I palmed her soft breast, pinched her pale, pink nipple until it was a rosy red. My scalp tingled and fire raced through every nerve of my body, electricity shooting down my spine. I was going to come.

  “Is Dr. Deander in?” someone asked from behind the door. Right behind.

  As fast as I could, I shoved Arabella off and sat up straight.

  Adrenaline flooded my body so hard, I was sure I’d pass out. If I thought my skin had tingled before, it was nothing compared to the shock of fear—like I’d touched a live wire.

  With Arabella still under my desk, sweat dampening my temples, my cock still out and hard, Dr. Coven walked in.

  Would she leave if I threw up all over my desk? Because my stomach roiled as if I might. The only saving grace was that my desk had a back so no one could see under it.

  “Dr. Coven,” I managed in a mostly normal voice. “What can I do for you?”

  “Oh, nothing. I just wanted to pop in and make sure you had everything you needed.”

  “Yeah. Everything is good.”

  “Are you okay? You look a little flushed. I know it’s the first day, but no need to come in sick.”

  “Yeah, no. It’s just a hot one out there. Killer walking between classes.”

  “Right? I’m hoping summer passes soon. It’s not usually hot for so long.”

  I opened my mouth to respond with some benign answer when I almost choked on my own tongue.

  A soft hand encircled my shaft just before warm lips dropped down. My erection had softened at the interruption, so Arabella was able to take me all the way to the base. Feeling her lips and nose press to my groin had me hardening again before she could pull back off, pressing into her throat.

  Her throat closed, rejecting the intrusion, tightening around the head, and I held my breath waiting for her gagging to give her away, but she managed to not make a sound.

  Dr. Coven asked about how my classes had been so far, if I had any issues with room placements or students. Somehow, I managed responses in a normal voice even though the more Arabella sucked, the more my world closed down to a pinprick. Being as discreet as possible, I reached under the table to stop her, fisting her hair. Instead of taking the silent reprimand, she dropped down again as far as my hold would allow.

  Fuck. I was going to come and there was no way I could hide it. I clung to my composure with chipping nails against a knifes edge. One more push and it’d all be over.

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I know the first day is hectic and wanted to check in. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Will do.”

  The second the door closed behind her, I scooted back enough to grip Arabella’s face and fucked my cock up into her mouth, coming within seconds. She did her best to swallow it all, but the way I kept slipping my dick in and out made a mess, and cum dripped down her chin to her breasts.

  When I finally finished, I collapsed back in my chair, taking just a moment to breathe. My chest heaved over the pleasure of coming and the fear of being caught.

  She leaned back and wiped her chin and breasts clean with her finger, bringing the extra cum to her lips to suck it off.

  She was the epitome of no regrets.

  She was a girl who had nothing to lose and only cared about the moment.

  She was sexy.

  And reckless.

  The euphoria faded, and reality came crashing in. Looking away from her crouched on the floor, her breasts begging me to forget it all and continue our game, I handed her her shirt before fastening my pants.

  I didn’t trust what I’d say and needed a moment to collect myself. I also didn’t trust myself to sit so close to her. Her red hair hung against her shoulders. She looked like a Siren begging for more. And I was a weak man who wanted to give it to her.

  I shoved away from the desk and stood, pacing back and forth, rubbing a hand through my hair. When I turned, she thankfully had her shirt back on, but looked more unsure of herself than I’d ever seen.

  “Will…” she started, opening the gates.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Umm…giving you a blow job?”

  “Fuck, Arabella,” I ground out, more frustrated with myself than her. I took her in, standing there with her shoulders pulled back, but doubt clouding her eyes despite trying to shove it behind her usual bravado. And I hated it. We’d bonded over our ability to just be, and here she was trying to put the veneer in place.

  I hated it because I knew my frustration caused it.

  I hated it because I knew before she left this office, it would get worse before it got better.

  “This was a mistake.” The words fell like dead weight, somehow making me lighter for saying the truth, but also crumbling under the weight of it.

  “Okay. Sorry. I won’t suck your cock at school again. Noted. I’ll make sure to keep it at home.”

  “No, Arabella. All of it. Everything. Us. It’s a mistake.”

  “What?” The veneer slipped, and her honest hurt knocked the wind out of me. Watching her, I saw every year between us. I saw the not yet twenty-year-old with a maturity unlike any other, but with so much left to learn. And just as quick as the veneer slipped, it went right back on. The arrogant girl who showed up on my steps three weeks ago back in place. “What do you mean mistake?” she asked, a hard edge in her voice. “Was it a mistake when you fucked me again and again. Did you slip and fall five times over the last two days into my open vagina? Was it a mistake when even after almost getting caught, you came in my mouth? Was it an accident?” she snapped, sarcasm pouring from the lips I already missed.

  “You know it wasn’t. This isn’t easy, okay?”

  “Seems like it.”

  Her inability to see reason broke my calm and my irritation snapped. “You know what? It fucking isn’t. It isn’t easy being the adult here, Arabella. It isn’t easy to not be the teenager who doesn’t give a fuck. You don’t care if you get caught. Hell, you’re probably hoping for it so you can get kicked out—which you wouldn’t. You’d simply get removed from my class. But you know who would get kicked out? Me. This is my job. A career I’ve busted my ass for.”

  “You didn’t seem to care too much when you ordered me to my knees and told me about how you’d fuck my throat. You didn’t seem to care when I was swallowing your cum. You could have shoved me away, found a way to say stop. I didn’t push you into it.”

  “I’m not saying you did.”

  “It sure feels like you’re putting the blame on me.”

  “I’m not. I’m taking the blame. I’m the one that should know better. I’m the one who should have stopped it. I’m asking you to understand why this needs to stop. All of it. I respect your father. Jesus,” I laughed. “I’m your fucking uncle.”

  “You are not my uncle.”

  “It’s still too close. I’m the adult here, and I messed up.”

  “I’m not some kid.”

  “I know that. Trust me, I know that. I wish I could see you that way. It would make my life a lot easier if I didn’t find yo
u so damn irresistible. If I didn’t find myself wanting you—and not just your body.”

  “So, if we’re both adults, what’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong is you’re too young and arrogant and stubborn to not see what’s wrong with it. You’re too young to make the right decision.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they’d be the final blow. They hit too close to what her parents said to her. They hit too close to her worst insecurities.

  “Fine.” This time when she pulled on a mask, it held nothing. No anger, no irritation, no hurt, no nothing. “I have another class to get to.”

  “Arabella, wait. We need to talk.”

  “No. We don’t. You’ve made it quite simple. Thank you.”

  And before I could say anything else, she left, leaving me with regrets that would last longer than the little while that got us here.

  Eleven

  Arabella

  The last two weeks were a complete one-eighty from our relationship before sleeping together. Pre-sex: hugs, hand holding, watching tv, shared dinners, lunches and breakfasts, story time on the couch with my head on his shoulder. Post sex: none of that. The only consistency was the ever-growing tension that pulled tighter and tighter between us.

  But that mostly existed because I pushed for it. Maybe it was the arrogance he callously threw at me. Maybe it was my pride. Maybe it was the hope that he would figure out how much I missed him, and he’d admit he missed me too, and we could move past it.

  I wiped away the steam from the bathroom mirror, trying to shove down the self-recrimination I saw every time I looked at myself. As much as I hated everything he said and as mad as it made me, he wasn’t wrong. I could see what was wrong with what we’d done. But I also cared enough about my feelings to weigh the pros and cons and know he was worth it.

  I knew I shouldn’t have started the game in his office. I definitely should have stopped when we almost got caught. But I hadn’t, and I was paying the price.

  However, he lashed out with his words and denials. So, I made him pay the price every day.

  His footsteps came closer down the hall, and I flung the bathroom door open, the pleasure of winning bringing my skin to life when he almost stumbled to a stop and took me in wearing a too-small white towel precariously wrapped around me.

  “Uncle Will?”

  “Jesus,” he sighed to himself.

  Yeah, I was making it worse, but I wanted him to admit this wasn’t all a mistake. I wanted him to take back his words about being immature and belittling me. I wanted him to regret hurting my feelings.

  “Can I have friends over this weekend? We wanted to swim in the pool before it got too cold.”

  “You couldn’t have asked me in the car?”

  And miss his eyes trying and failing to not take me in? I shrugged. “I was thinking about it now.”

  “Yeah,” he sighed in defeat. “How many people?”

  “Just three or four.”

  “Fine.”

  With that, he moved to leave, and just before I closed the door, I dropped the towel, smiling over his muttered fuck me.

  After that show, I gave him a small reprieve in the car and kept silent. Besides, we had class later, and I had plans.

  He always tensed up when I walked into the room. This time even more since I sat in the very front when I usually sat in the middle. His eyes kept flicking to me, probably wondering why I moved seats.

  At about fifteen minutes into his lecture, I removed my jacket, my nipples growing hard when he faltered over his words and stared. He recovered quickly enough so no one noticed, but I had. I knew he saw the way the thin white shirt barely covered my nipples. The material so thin and tight you could see the pale areola and hard tips.

  Whenever his attention snagged on me, I’d brush my fingers subtly across my chest, making it hard to sit still in my seat. Each stroke across my nipples sent a shock to my core, and thirty minutes in, I ached.

  It wasn’t until the end that my plan faltered. I’d been so focused on teasing him that I’d stopped paying attention to what he actually said.

  “Miss Colins?”

  “Umm…yeah?”

  “Yeah, isn’t the answer.”

  The class’s attention focused on me, and I sat forward, hiding what I’d flaunted for him. Heat flooded my cheeks with each whisper in the seconds that ticked by in my silence. “I didn’t hear the question. Could you repeat it?” I asked, striving for a confidence I didn’t feel.

  His jaw clenched under his scruff. “I asked if anyone could explain price elasticity of demand.”

  Shit. I vaguely remembered reading it but couldn’t recall off the top of my head. “Uh, yeah. Let me look it up,” I said, flipping the pages of my book.

  “Can someone who actually read tell me?” he asked the class, dismissing my attempt.

  Hands shot up, and I sank back in my seat, thoroughly embarrassed, struggling through the last five minutes of class. When he dismissed us, I shoved everything in my bag, my head down, desperate to regroup. Just as I stood, his voice stopped me from escape.

  “A word, Miss Colins.”

  “Good luck,” a guy I sat next to whispered.

  I managed an annoyed smile with an eye roll, acting like being called after class was no big deal.

  Once the class cleared out, Will moved in front of the desk and leaned back, crossing his arms and legs.

  “Do you even like this class? Or are you just wasting time and money so you can torture me?”

  “It was one question, Will.”

  “In the first month of class. A question you should have been able to answer. It only gets harder from here.”

  “I was distracted.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.”

  “Oh, don’t act like you weren’t distracted.” I wanted to provoke him into admitting he couldn’t take his eyes off me because he wanted me.

  “The difference was, that I didn’t want to be. You want to drop your towel at home? Fine. But keep it there, Arabella. This is my job, and this is your education. Stop being so selfish and really think about what you’re doing. Is this really what you want to do?”

  “I’m not a child,” I defended. Like a child.

  I didn’t know how to answer, and it scared me sober, leaving me to lash out.

  He shook his head, rolling his eyes at my snotty remark, refusing to feed into it. This time, no one had to look at me with disappointment—I was disappointed in myself.

  “I’m not saying you are. I’m asking you a very mature question. You’ve been so pissed about being forced to be here and pissed over your parents not accepting who you want to be, but have you ever stopped to think about what you do want?”

  The situation slipped from my hands. I’d barely held on to it after he called on me, but sitting in a desk with him looming over, asking me questions I didn’t know the answer to left me at a loss. Everything closed in, and all the unimportant things like torturing Will fell away.

  One question rattled around, shaking everything else free.

  What do you want?

  “I—I don’t know. I guess no one has asked me,” I admitted, coming to the realization even as I said the words.

  “I’m asking now.”

  In that moment, I wanted to stand up and hug him. I wanted to find the old comfort and understanding in his arms like I had before. In that moment, I realized what I’d really been fighting for. It hadn’t been for him to admit he wanted me. He’d already said that. I wanted him to come to me and tell me he missed me. Missed watching tv. Missed coming home to my embrace. Missed laughing with me. Missed just me. Something no one had ever missed before.

  In that moment, I let it all go and dropped all pretenses, giving him my honest self like I had before. “I want to travel.”

  “I do too, but you can’t just wander around forever aimlessly. Trust me, I tried. You need a plan. If that includes economics, then great. If not, then stop wasting everyone’s time an
d go talk to your counselor to figure out what your plan does include. Just…stop being so angry and do something about it.”

  After his speech, I didn’t have anything left to say. He’d said it all and took the wind out of my sails while he said it. Feeling embarrassed by my actions that brought us here, ashamed of acting like the child I constantly demanded he stop treating me like, I kept quiet. Instead, opting to nod my head, letting him know I heard him, and standing to go.

  He gave me a nod of his own. Enough words had been said today, and I think we were both too tired to argue anymore.

  My chest ached with each step toward the door. His honesty hurt, but I’d appreciated he’d said it. In his own way, it had been him admitting he cared, and that eased the pain.

  “Willem?” I called from the door.

  He looked up from where he packed his bag. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  “Any time. And not just for a little while. Any time you need me—really need me—I’m here.”

  Twelve

  Willem

  Working on a Saturday wasn’t exactly my top pick on how to spend my weekend, but after the collision after class earlier this week, we’d been avoiding each other. I made sure she knew I could pick her up from work, drive her anywhere she needed to go, or take my car if it was free. But as classes went on, she made friends, and they gave her rides. Hell, as much as she’d been working, she’d be able to buy a car in no time.

  I didn’t blame her for avoiding me. Tuesday had been a mess. Hell, all of this was a mess, but my hot spot was work, and she knew it. I’d worked too damn hard to get here to fuck it up. She talked about wanting to make her plans around traveling. Well, economics had been my ticket to travel. It’d been my plan.

  Nowhere in that plan included a fiery, stubborn, young woman who challenged me every step of the way.

  But I couldn’t stop wondering if maybe it should.

  I missed her.

  I kind of even missed the way she tortured me at home.