See Me After Class(48)

Leaning against her counter, I say, “What are you doing?”

She smiles wickedly at me. “Getting comfortable.”

“You’re fucking with me again.”

She holds up her hands in defense. “You were the one who wanted to come to my place. I’m just getting comfortable for whatever you have to say to me.” She pats her bed. “Come, sit. Let’s gab.”

“No way in hell I’m sitting on your bed.”

“Oh, it’s not a bed right now.” She shakes her head. “Only a bed when I’m under the covers. This is a couch currently. So have a seat.” She pats it again.

“I’m good where I’m at.”

“Suit yourself,” she says while shifting. Her foot hits her nightstand and all of a sudden, a buzzing sound rattles in the drawer.

Oh . . . hell . . .

“Uh.” Her face pinkens and before she can move, I walk over to her nightstand, open up the drawer, and find a jiggling purple vibrator. “Finicky power button.” She chuckles and reaches for it, but I grab it first and switch it off.

“Use this often?” I say, holding it up.

“You do realize you’re holding my vibrator, right?”

“Well aware.”

“And you know where that goes, right?”

My eyes flash to hers. “Between your legs, maybe up against your clit.” I examine the length. “Inside of you. Maybe you tease yourself, rubbing it against your nipples before you slowly lower it over your stomach and then to your cunt.”

She blinks slowly, her mouth falling open.

“Do you come quick, Miss Gibson? Or can you hold out, not letting yourself fall over until every muscle in your body is bunched up and ready to explode?”

She swallows . . . hard. Her eyelids are heavy, her lips wet.

I place it back in the drawer and shut it. I don’t sit on the bed but instead stand in front of her, my cock pressing against the zipper of my jeans, starting to grow painful with need.

“What is it? Do you come hard?”

“I . . .” Her hand floats up her neck. “I highly doubt this is what you came here to talk to me about.”

“You’re right. I came here to lecture you.”

“Yes, so let’s just, uh, get that over with so you can be on your way.”

“Fine.” Stepping closer, I press my finger to her chest, forcing her to lie back on her bed, then I pull her legs off the edge and lower my hands so they straddle her body. I can make out her hard nipples as the swell of her breasts nearly fall out of the loose silk top. “Care to explain to me why you thought it was necessary to take charge of my meeting?”

“You know, maybe we could have this conversation at the table.”

“Nah, I’m good here.” Wetting my lips, I say, “Explain.”

“I, well, I wasn’t trying to cause a disturbance.”

“Hmm, but you did. I don’t take well to disturbances, Miss Gibson.”

“I thought it was a good—”

“I like to run the meetings myself with very minimal input.”

“But that’s not how—”

“And I don’t appreciate a newbie rallying the troops to overturn one of my decisions,” I say, growing sterner with each sentence.

“I wasn’t trying to cause trouble.”

“And yet, you did.”

With my foot, I kick her legs open, then reach into the nightstand to grab the vibrator. When I switch it on, her eyes widen.

“What were you trying to do exactly?” I ask, bringing the vibrator close to her chest.

She sucks in a harsh breath, her eyes immediately turning hungry, needy, and on her next breath, her pelvis rises and she spreads her legs even more.

“I was . . .” She gulps. “I was trying to—”

“Undermine me?” I bring the vibrator to her right nipple. Her teeth fall over her bottom lip and her eyes squeeze shut.

“No.”

“Make me look like a fool?” I run the vibrator to the other nipple, loving how the sensation seems to drive her mad.

Just like she drives me mad.

“No, Arlo. I was—”

“Offering a suggestion?”

On a sharp exhale, she nods. “Yes.”

I lower even closer to her face and move the vibrator down her stomach to the waistline of her silk shorts. “Guess what, Miss Gibson?”

“What?” she says, her hips rocking up as I move the vibrator even farther south, right to her pubic bone.

“I didn’t want your suggestions.”

Another inch, and then . . . I switch it off and stand, my cock aching in my jeans, but wanting to teach her a lesson. I toss the vibrator to the side and turn away from her.

With a disgruntled gasp, she says, “What are you doing?”

When I look over my shoulder, I catch her flushed cheeks, her heaving chest, and her pleading eyes.

“Leaving. Our conversation is over. I think I got my point across.”

“Arlo,” she calls out as I’m halfway to the door.

“Yes?” I ask, turning toward her.

“You realize I’m just going to finish when you’re gone.”

“You’re right.” I walk back over to her and she smiles. Instead of finishing her off, I snag the vibrator and stick it in the back pocket of my jeans.