“So, the plan with Mark …?”
“We report him—to authorities outside of Nutmeg. Shit, we report those authorities, too. There is a chain of command for this stuff, you know.”
“Won’t his ultra-rich family just take care of it the way yours does for Jack?”
“Between the five of us,” he says, as students pass by in small groups, whispering about the elections. “We’ll take care of it. But we need as much evidence as possible first.” Spencer leans in closer, one of his hands traveling down my side and cupping my ass through my skirt. He exhales sharply, like he’s seriously holding back right now. “You know I have a thing for schoolgirl uniforms, right?”
“You’ve never said as much, but I could tell.” I grin back at him. “You’ve fantasized about screwing me in this, huh?”
“Screwing, making love to, fucking, doing it … all of the things.”
He nuzzles the side of my neck and makes me go weak at the knees.
“We should really get to the auditorium to vote,” I whisper, knowing the others will come looking for us if we don’t show up soon. Mr. Murphy walks past us, my eyes briefly meeting his over Spencer’s shoulder, but he knows better than to stop or say anything.
“What if we just … made it quick?” he asks as he runs his tongue across his lower lip and I inadvertently mimic the motion.
“Where should we go?” I whisper back, totally getting off on the conspiratorial nature of the moment. My heart gallops like a herd of wild horses, manes billowing in the wind, whinnying softly … Eww. What? Eww. No, that’s not poetic or cool-sounding whatsoever. The hell is wrong with me?
“Go?” Spence asks, kissing down the side of my neck as he slides his hands underneath my skirt, palms sliding up my bare thighs. “We don’t have to go anywhere. I want to do it right fucking here, where anybody could walk by and see.”
“Are you nuts?!” I choke out as his fingers knead the soft flesh of my ass. “We’re being hunted by a cult, remember?”
“We better make it quick then, huh?”
He lifts me up and pins me against the wall with his body, my arms automatically encircling his neck, fingers digging into his silver hair. Our mouths meet in a hot, desperate tangle as he presses his erection against me. My lips part in sweet surrender to his tongue, and I can already tell by the heavy weight of my limbs and the flutter of my lashes against my cheeks that I’m giving into him.
“I want to do it without a condom so bad right now,” he growls, one of his hands slipping between us to open his slacks. My eyes are closed, my pulse pounding inside my head. I don’t have the strength to say no, but at least he does. “But I won’t.”
“Because Ranger would kill you if you did it again,” I whisper and Spencer groans, freeing himself and then digging a condom out of his blazer pocket. I chastised him the other day for carrying them around all the time, but then I did stick several in my bookbag, just in case.
Teenagers are straight-up hoes.
Spencer slips the condom on, letting the wrapping fall to the floor, and then waits for me to hook my panties to the side with two fingers.
His eyes meet mine as he lines up with my opening and thrusts deeps, filling me up and pushing my body into the stone wall with the weight of his own. The pleasure is immediate and intense, releasing a flood of hormones into my body that make me feel both heavy and weightless, all at the same time.
Our mouths find each other again, searching and claiming, as he finds a rhythm that works, grinding me into the alcove with frenzied thrusts. The wall has no give, so each movement sheathes him fully inside of me, taking my breath away. A scream rests in my throat, but I bite it back.
Half the fun is the risk of getting caught, but also … there are few people at this school who I wouldn’t lose my shit over catching us like this.
“Oh, Chuck,” Spencer moans as he sucks on my lower lip. “You feel so damn good.”
His hands cup my ass, holding me up effortlessly as he moves, my pleated skirt bunched up around my hips. It could be weird to find a school uniform so erotic, but … I fantasize about the boys in their uniforms all the time when I touch myself. Which, you know, is just a little bit more often now that Church and I have finally done it. I’m not so scared of him hearing me from across the room.
“More, Spencer, more,” I murmur as he rocks our bodies together, the motion of his pelvis rubbing my clit in a way that makes me think I might actually be able to get off during this little quickie.
