Page 60 of Fake Crown

I crack open the door, and Brent is on the other side. He’s got a latte in his hand and a grin on his face. “Destiny told me you were pulling an all-nighter to get some project done. I brought liquid gold reinforcements.”

The strangest sensation spiders across my chest and down my arms. Warm and tingly. I take the latte from him with one hand, and I grab the front of his jacket with the other, dragging him into the room with a wide view of the campus out the window. I click a button on the wall, and the blinds come down. I shut and lock the door while Brent stands in the room, an amused expression on his face.

“Jensen, what are you doing?”

Instead of answering, I kiss him. “When does the bus leave?” I murmur against his lips.

“Thirty minutes. My bag is outside the door.”

“I hope no one steals it.” I unzip his coat and shove it off his shoulders. It falls to the floor in a heap. There’s barely enough room in here around the worktable for us to move, but need and desire burn through me. He’s on his way to a huge swim meet for the weekend, and he detoured from the athletics complex to bring me a latte.

We’re stripping each other in hurried motions, and I grab a condom from my purse. When Brent goes to lift me onto the table, he stares at the mess of my work spread out across it. He rotates me around to the wall, and he presses me against it.

“How soundproof are these rooms?” He trails openmouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of my neck.

“Enough,” I say. Not entirely sure how much since we’re in the library and people are supposed to be quiet.

“We’ll see.” He chuckles.

With only half an hour before the bus leaves, I expect him to be in a hurry. But he sets a slow, delicious rhythm that has me striving for the ecstasy I know is just around the corner.

“Faster,” I plead.

“Nope,” he says against my neck. His teeth graze my ear. “I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of this.”

I grip his face, and I kiss him while I hook my legs around him tighter. If he wants to go slow, that’s fine, but I’m not giving him a chance to get too far away. The friction is exquisite.

“Cheater,” he murmurs.

I squeeze my internal muscles around him, and he hisses in my ear. Drives him wild when I do that. My class time spent strengthening my pelvic floor muscles has not been for nothing.

“That’s what cheating feels like,” I purr.

His lips seek mine, and as he increases the pace, our mouths barely break apart. The closer I get, the harder it is to breathe. I clutch at his back, and I dig my nails into his shoulders. My legs are trembling, and he pushes up one more time, sending me flying over the edge, and he follows right behind.

I’m still breathing heavily when he eases me to the ground and gives me one last tender kiss.

“You working on your project all weekend?” he asks as he discards the condom and starts retrieving his clothes from the piles on the floor.

“Unfortunately. Too many lattes and orgasms the last two weeks, and I’m behind.”

“You should have said.” He gives me a peck on the lips. “I didn’t have to spend so much time in your bed.”

“Yeah, you did.” I give him a sly smile. “Trust me, I’m not mad about it.”

“The whole weekend in this box.” He grabs his jacket off the floor. “Seems counterintuitive for someone like you.”

“I’ll hate every second,” I admit. “You’ll send me updates on the meet?”

“If you want me to.” A crease mars his forehead.

“Yeah.” I slip my shirt over my head. “I’d love to know how you’re doing.” He’s acting like that’s shocking. But I’ve listened to a lot of chatter about his practices and his swimming goals the last two weeks. Why wouldn’t I want to know whether any of it is coming to fruition? I’m not an unfeeling monster.

He checks the room to make sure he hasn’t dropped anything or left something behind, and then he gives me a quick kiss on my temple. “Good luck with the project. I hope you smash it.”

Into oblivion so I can escape this room. “Good luck to you too,” I say just before he closes the door behind him.

I snap the lock into place, and I release a deep sigh. The tangy scent of sex lingers, and I’m not sure how I’m going to concentrate on my assignment when I’ll remember Brent inside me every time I gaze at the wall across from the desk.