I should argue. I should tell him no, and part of me almost does. But the truth is…I don’t want to tell him no. It’s actually nice to be…needed.
Fuck, I need to call my therapist. This isn’t healthy. I’m over here worrying about Cullen Ayers when I know I mean literally nothing to him. He doesn’t care about me—not in a positive way.
So I throw on some more workout clothes I have absolutely zero intention to work out in before grabbing a bottle of water and running out the door. Cullen is sitting on the low brick wall outside his dorm when I pull up, and I do a quick glance around to make sure no one recognizes me as he climbs in.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says, and I don’t bother replying.
He keeps his duffel bag at his feet, and I can’t help but notice how good he smells or how thick his arms look in that tight T-shirt. I never went after guys like Cullen when I was his age. I was so focused on finding a forever man, I tended to date the straight-laced type. That plan obviously backfired because the straight-laced boring types are never as polite or kind as they seem on the outside. I had my heart broken more times than I could count until it became blatantly obvious they only wanted a woman who was willing to sit down, be quiet, and blow them from time to time. And they sure as fuck weren’t going to find that with me.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks as I pull out of the campus parking lot.
Instead of answering, I glare at him. He knows exactly what’s wrong with me.
“Oh, come on. Like you had better plans today?”
“Maybe I did. But even if I didn’t, shouldn’t it be my choice?”
“We went over this. You owe me, Miss West.”
“Actually, I don’t owe you shit, Cullen. And how long do you expect this to go on?” I ask, feeling fired up. I don’t know why I’m so crabby right now, but I’m not really in the mood to play his games.
“For as long as I want!” he shouts back.
“Do you have to blackmail everyone in your life to be around you?” I snarl as we turn onto the main road.
“You’re being a real cunt today.”
“Can you blame me? After everything you’ve put me through.”
“And I’ll keep putting you through it as long as I want. Do I have to remind you how much you fucked up my life?”
“Get over it!” I yell.
“No, I don’t think I will. I’ll drag this shit on just to piss you off more. Maybe after practice, you’ll drive me around so I can do my errands. And then I’ll make you cook dinner for me like a servant. Then you can do my fucking laundry.”
“I’m not your mother,” I say without thinking. It just slips out. There’s a beat of tension before he snaps.
“Pull over,” he barks, his voice so deep it sends a chill down my spine.
“You’ll be late—"
“Pull over!” There’s a side street off the main road mostly hidden by trees, but when I glance around, I realize that if he wants to get out, here is not the best place to do it. There’s nowhere to walk.
“Cullen—" I say as I turn toward him, but he cuts me off. His large hand snatches me by the back of my neck as he yanks me toward him. His lips press against mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he snarls, so I can feel his words as well as hear them.
“Don’t you ever compare yourself to my mother again. You will never be like her. She wasn’t a bitch like you.”
I try to pull away, tears springing to my eyes, but he holds me tighter. “You’re hurting me,” I say with a whimper. Still, he doesn’t let up. Instead, he grabs my hand off the steering wheel and slams it against his crotch, and I gasp when I feel the rock hard bulge in his shorts.
“Hurting you gets me hard, Everly. You see how fucked up I am? This is your fault.”
He’s holding my open hand hard against his cock, and I don’t close my fingers around it. That would be inappropriate, a voice in the back of my head reminds me. As if all of this isn’t super fucking inappropriate.
Our mouths are still touching as he breathes heavily against my face. Silence fills the car, and when I peel my eyes open, I stare into his eyes, noticing he’s raging with anger but there’s something else there too. Something that softens his eyes. And I know what’s coming before he even says it.
“Pull it out.”
“Cullen,” I whisper.
I hate myself for how much I want to touch him right now. I hate that I have already forgotten who he is. Right now, with the smell of his cologne filling my car and those crystal blue eyes staring a hole right through with how hot he makes me, I want to do more than touch him.
Cullen is a man; I remind myself as I peel down the elastic band of his shorts. And when his cock pops out, my eyes dart down to see it, and it’s all the reminder I need. Cullen is definitely a man. It’s a perfect length, thick and veiny with a slight curve, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away.
There is absolutely no good, rational reason for what I do next other than the fact that something has taken over in the last five days since seeing Cullen again. It’s something primal and wild, and it draws me to him. It’s that need that drives me to grabbing his hard length in my hand and stroking it without hesitation.
It’s the same wild need that makes me drop my head out of his grasp and wrap my lips around his cock. A shocked-sounding groan echoes through the car as my tongue draws circles around the head, getting it as wet as I can before dropping my mouth down to ease him into the back of my throat.
“Jesus, fuck,” he moans.
Squeezing him at the base with my hand, I stroke his cock with my mouth, not even bothering to go slow, tightening my lips around the head every time my head bounces up. I suck his dick like my life depends on it. Like it’s a fucking race.
And the whole time I keep thinking…he’s my student. He’s eighteen fucking years old and I’m a grown woman. What is wrong with me? It should feel wrong, but it doesn’t.
Every thought only makes my panties wetter as I swallow his cock. His hand lands back on my neck and he pushes me down enough to press himself to the back of my mouth.
“I’m gonna fucking come,” he pants, and excitement pools low in my belly. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
He presses me down a few times, jerking his hips up before the head of his cock swells and he unloads into the back of my throat. Gagging a little, I pull off in time to swallow. Opening my eyes, I stare down at his wet cock then up to his face. A wave of shame washes over me.
What the fuck did I just do?
Grabbing a tissue out of the glove compartment, I quickly wipe my mouth, cleaning up the drool and cum that leaked down my chin. I can’t look him in the eye, but he’s not exactly looking at me either. His eyes are still glossed over, staring up at the ceiling as he’s coming down from the high of his orgasm.
We don’t speak a word as I drive him to his practice, dropping him off in the parking lot and keeping my face away from the field in hopes Coach Prescott won’t see me. He gets out of the car without a word, and as I watch him walk to the field, I notice he’s carrying himself differently. He seems tense, with his brow furrowed and his lips in a tight thin line as he glances back at me.