Page 6 of Beauty Becomes You (Beauty 4)
Shuttling a hand up and down, he let his eyes fall shut. He imagined that, instead of a dark room, sunlight streamed through. Instead of tangled sheets, a damp towel lay slack around his hips. And instead of an empty house, Erin had arrived to clean his house that day months ago.
He would never really know if he had secretly, subconsciously planned for her to find him, naked and touching himself. He would never know if she had gone to his room looking for him, instead of working downstairs as she normally did, because she wanted it too. But he had been utterly exposed that day, and when he’d realized she had seen him climaxing and calling her name, he’d been mortified—and beyond aroused.
Of course, then he’d been more worried about scaring her off. But now, alone and wearing nothing but fantasies, he allowed himself to imagine it differently. He hadn’t climaxed, but instead had noticed her while he’d still been fucking his fist. She hadn’t run away; no, she’d come closer with a wicked tilt of her lips. She’d knelt between his legs on the bed and taken over with her hands, her mouth.
When he tried to protest, she shook her head and pressed his hands to the bed. Stay still. He shuddered but obeyed, suffering in ecstasy while she teased him. In reality, his own hand delive
red a swift and biting caress to his pulsing dick, but in his fantasy, it was her hot mouth, her nimble hands, and most of all, the knowing glint in her eyes that pushed him over, sending warm ejaculate across the plane of his stomach.
As he caught his breath in the aftermath, the splatter from his climax cooled into a decidedly unsexy substance. He sighed and retreated to the restroom to wipe his body clean. He was going to have long, hard days until he could see her again. And when he did? Well, tying her to the bed was looking better and better. Days and months and years of pleasure. Forever of it.
CHAPTER THREE
Three days until the Faculty Ball
The hallways changed in the minutes before class started. Stragglers who had been chatting after their last class cleared out. Latecomers rushed to find their rooms before the ancient bell rang. This building held mostly graduate courses. There was, of course, no official penalty for tardiness to class, but showing respect was part of the game.
At least, it was for most of the professors. Blake didn’t seem to play the same game. He never seemed to mind when folks rushed in late or had to leave early for something. She’d almost never seen him annoyed, not at the class and not at her, something that was a huge relief after worrying for so long.
Her old boyfriend, Doug, hadn’t been an angry person, but he’d always had an offhand criticism. She’d been young and stupid enough to accept them, to change for him, thinking she wasn’t good enough. She’d subconsciously expected the same from Blake, who was so far above her.
After weeks, months of being with him, she had begun to relax. He wasn’t going to cheat on her. He wasn’t going to tell her she wasn’t good enough. He already knew her mom cleaned houses, and he was fine with it. He hadn’t been prejudiced—no, that had been her. Internalizing the hurt and betrayal her mother had received, distrusting those with more money, more power. But she wasn’t her mother, and Blake would never hurt her.
The reminder of her mother formed an uneasy knot in her stomach. It had been a while since her mom had called. Not an unheard of amount of time, but unease niggled at her. And the last time they’d spoken, her mother had seemed distant on the phone. She’d mentioned being in pain, something about her knees bothering her. Was it worse than she’d let on? Erin stepped into an alcove and hit the speed dial. It rang five times before going to voicemail.
“Hey, Mom, it’s me. Just calling to check in and see how you’re feeling. You’re okay, right? Call me back.”
Frowning, she slipped the phone into her bag. She’d have to try again later.
Slipping into the classroom, she waved to her friend Bailey as she made her way to the back of the room. The two of them were always the quietest ones during class discussions. She refrained from speaking too much so as to avoid giving away anything about her and Blake. Sometimes she would contribute under her breath. Bailey would hear and respond just as softly. Once, she’d worried he had a crush on her, but he never asked her out or made a move at all, which relieved her.
“How was it?” she asked, referring to the visit from his mother this past weekend. He’d mentioned it in the past few classes with typical young bachelor dread.
“Great. She declared my house a pig sty and decided to stay at a hotel.”
She snorted. “Well, what can she expect with three roommates?”
“Exactly what I said. Though I might have made it worse before she showed up.”
“Bailey!”
“I couldn’t have survived, Erin. She’s planning on staying in town until the final scores come back. That’s almost a week.”
“Three days,” she corrected grimly. Three more days until she and Blake were together again. “Then we’re both free.”
He gave her a curious look. “Do you know where you’re going yet? What you’re going to do?”
“I have a few applications out,” she admitted. It felt strange to confide in Bailey and not Blake, but maybe it was better this way. She had applied to places near Blake’s house, and she didn’t want to imply promises she couldn’t keep regarding moving in with him.
“Cross your fingers for me,” she said. “What about you? Any plans?”
“Actually I was thinking of doing a tour of Europe. Find myself or something like that, before I have to decide which major I actually want to use.”
“That sounds awesome. Both the traveling and the double major. I didn’t know you’d done that. What are they?”
He blushed. “I got the idea from Ayn Rand. To learn about physics and philosophy. The physical world and metaphysical one. Combined, it’s everything there is to know.”
She grinned. “That sounds ambitious.”
