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1- Sex in the classroom.
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2025-11-29 00:06:32Nick
"I can't wait to suck your cock, I bet it's soooo big."
Fuck.
I raised a brow at the boldness of the blonde next to me. Looks like someone has been a very naughty girl.
Smiling seductively, she grazed her long purple nails along my thighs, causing my dick to twitch in my pants. Good lord, I was so responsive for her. Sitting upright, I dragged my gaze from her to the Professor, making sure he hadn't caught on to what was happening at the back of his classroom. I would be thoroughly fucked if he did. Lucky for me, the old guy was too engrossed solving an algebra equation. Yawn. The blonde was way more interesting.
I must say, I did not expect I'II be fucking a girl first day of sophomore, especially being the new guy. But when you're me; the famous Nick Beaufort, girls tend to take notice and the blonde kneeling infront me was of course no exception.
She wasn't my certain type, though. But she was down to fuck wherever and whenever, and she'd be fine even if I didn't call her back the next day. And well.. the last couple of weeks sucked a bit, giving me added reason to accept her offer. There was nothing like spending break in a camp full of boys, to make you miss the touch of a woman.
The blonde.. I didn't even know her name yet, leaned into me, the heat of her lips on my leg as she whispered, "Just imagine, daddy.. you can come on my face, or I can swallow. Swallowing’s always hotter," her voice a soft purr that made my skin prickle with need.
I couldn't help the smirk that tugged at my lips. Girls this forward were rare. Hell, I might have even respected her boldness, if she wasn't making my dick throb in my pants. Just as I was about to suggest we take this to the closet, the person infront of us spun around, cutting me off mid-thought.
"Jesus! What is wrong with you assholes!" He whisper-yelled, his voice sending an unexpected jolt through me.
I blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. My attention shifted from the blonde to the angry figure infront of me. The hood of his deep brown hoodie was pulled slightly over his face, but when he turned and I caught sight of the tumble of chestnut locks pouring down around his shoulders, softer jaw and proper dick-sucking lips, I realized he was actually a she.
Her hood covered most parts of her face, and her gaze darkened with something violent. For a moment I thought she was going to slap me. God, I almost wish she did.
Glaring angrily at us, she continued. "For fuck's sake this is a classroom not a motel. Some of us are here to learn not listen to your dirty talks. You should be ashamed of yourselves."
I felt my body stiffened. Why the fuck were the pretty ones always so rude and unreasonable? For fuck's sake, she could have asked us to stop nicely. A please wouldn't have been so bad, but no, she just had to open her mouth and display how much of an arrogant brat she was.
She opened her mouth to continue her pathetic ranting, but I interrupted her. "Do you have a problem with sex?"
She bit her bottom lips, before letting out a small laugh. Her laughter sounding in my belly like trouble, the kind of trouble I wanted to drag into bed and ruin. "God! You're arrogant."
I smirked wickedly. "I'II take that as a compliment."
Her features visibly contorted in disgust. "Ew, are you by any means flirting with me? My God! You're disgusting. Let's see what the Professor has to say about this."
I instantly grabbed the arm of her hoodie, as if it would stop her from ratting me out if she wanted to. The contact sending an instant jolt through me, all of them deeply unsettling... She quickly pulled away as though she's been burned.
"Don't touch me." She snapped, her cheeks flushed. "You'll both keep shut for the rest of the class. Or I swear to God I would gladly rat you out to the Professor infront of the whole class." With one last scowl at us, she spuned to the front, swiftly dismissing us.
I glared at the back of her head, contemplating saying something. Was she even worth it? She clearly didn't know who I was, or she didn't care. And I had the feeling she would surely tattle on us if we didn't stop.
The blonde next to me, begged to differ. "Bitch."
I watched the girl shoulders visibly tensed, but she stayed quiet. Usually, I wouldn't agree with the blonde words, but not today. Chestnut hair could have simply asked us to stop nicely, but no, not only did she display how rude she was, she even threatened to tell on us. So now we were all forced to sit in awkward silence while our Professor droned on in the background. Not once did my eyes leave the back of her head, I was'nt used to girls telling me what to do. But her.. this sinfully attractive girl with a mouth made for doing very bad things just walked over me. And she was about to find out exactly what happens when you fucked with the wrong guy on the wrong day.
Bab terbaru
CRAVING THE BAD BOY 318 - Through the Cold
The first hard cold arrived without drama.One morning the lake wore a thin skin of ice along the edges, and the boards of the dock sounded sharper under Nick’s boots. Ariana stood at the window with a mug of coffee and watched him test the frost with the toe of his shoe like a man still learning the rules of a gentler season. When he came back inside, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were clear in a way that had nothing to do with vigilance.“Winter’s early,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket.“Is that a problem?”“Only if we didn’t plan for it.” He crossed the room, stole a sip from her mug, and kissed her with cold lips. “We planned for it.”They had. The second set of sheets was already on the bed. The window latch was repaired. The leasing office had sent the extension paperwork for two years, and both of them had signed without hesitation. Evelyn had been told they would come after Christmas, not before. The cabin was no longer a soft place they were borrowing. It was the
CRAVING THE BAD BOY 317 - The Long Quiet
Time at the lake began to stretch in ways that had nothing to do with danger.Weeks blurred into a month. The month began to feel like the beginning of something longer. Ariana finished the second phase of the archival contract and was offered an ongoing arrangement—remote, flexible, the kind of work that could follow them if they ever decided the cabin was only the first place and not the last. Nick’s consulting remained limited by design. He turned down two larger contracts that would have required travel and accepted a third that let him stay exactly where he was.They were not hiding anymore.They were building.On a clear morning in the fifth week, Ariana found Nick at the far end of the dock with a legal pad and a pen, writing in the precise, economical script she had only ever seen on tactical notes. She sat beside him without speaking. After a moment he tilted the pad so she could see.A list.Not of threats or contingencies.Of ordinary things.Repair the south-facing window
CRAVING THE BAD BOY 316 - The Weight of Home
Coming back to the lake felt different than leaving it.The cabin had not changed in the three days they were gone—same dock, same angle of afternoon light across the floorboards, same stubborn coffee maker—but the air inside seemed to recognize them. Nick set the bags down and did the ritual without thinking: locked the door, then unlocked it again. Ariana watched the small movement and felt something in her chest settle into place.Home, he had called it in the car.She was still learning how heavy that word could be when it was real.The first day back they did almost nothing. Unpacked. Opened windows. Let the lake air move through the rooms until the coastal city smell was gone. Nick checked the dock boards while Ariana answered a short email from the archival project. In the evening they cooked without a recipe and ate standing up in the kitchen because sitting felt too formal for the kind of quiet they had returned to.It was ordinary.It was also the most radical thing either o
CRAVING THE BAD BOY 315 - Between Soft Places
The three weeks passed the way ordinary time does when no one is hunting you—sometimes too fast, sometimes so slow it felt like the days were testing whether they truly meant to stay.Ariana finished the first phase of the archival contract and accepted a second. Nick took on a short consulting block that required two video calls a week and nothing more. They bought a better coffee maker. They argued mildly about whether the reading chair should face the window or the fireplace and settled on the window. They slept with the door unlocked more nights than not.And then the calendar page turned, and it was time to go see Evelyn.The drive took most of a day. Nick navigated while Ariana watched the landscape change from deep green lake country to flatter coastal light. They stopped twice. Once for gas. Once because Nick pulled into a rest area without explanation, turned off the engine, and kissed her like he needed the reminder that she was still real and still choosing the same directi
CRAVING THE BAD BOY 314 - The Days Ahead
The invitation from Evelyn arrived on a bright morning with no urgency attached.A short message. A weekend date three weeks out. An address by the water. Only if you want to. No expectations. I just miss my daughter’s voice in the same room.Ariana read it twice at the kitchen table while Nick poured coffee. He set a mug in front of her and waited.“She wants us to visit,” Ariana said.“Do you want to go?”“Yes.” She wrapped both hands around the warm ceramic. “But I also don’t want to leave this place yet. It still feels new. Like if we step away too soon it might forget we were here.”Nick pulled out the chair across from her and sat. “Then we wait until it feels solid enough to leave and come back to. Three weeks is enough time to decide.”The practicality of the answer settled her more than reassurance would have. He was no longer treating every choice like a tactical decision with life-or-death stakes. He was treating it like a life.They spent the morning on small, deliberate t
CRAVING THE BAD BOY 313 - Kept by Him
Daniel’s final message arrived without ceremony. Drive destroyed. Fragments unstable and incomplete. Nothing usable remains. It’s finished.Nick read it standing at the kitchen counter, then passed the phone to Ariana without comment. She read the words twice, waiting for the old rush of relief or dread. Neither came. What settled over her instead was a wide, almost frightening calm—the recognition that the last piece of the research had been reduced to nothing, and that the future no longer required them to guard a secret that had already cost too much.“It’s really gone,” she said.Nick leaned back against the counter, arms loosely crossed. “The research is. We’re still here.”The distinction mattered. They had spent so many weeks defined by what they were protecting or fleeing that the absence of both left a strange, open space. Ariana set the phone down and stepped into that space, sliding her arms around his waist. Nick’s hands settled at her hips with the ease of long practice,
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