Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (137 page)

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Authors: Various Authors

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BOOK: Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four
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Jurgen reached out with one finger and followed Nik’s shoulder

blade. “How about Nikky?”

Nik’s elbow shot back, doing it’s best to break itself on Jurgen’s

solar plexus. ”
Nikky
?”

“Oof!” Jurgen said in a moment so comic-book worthy Nik

thought he’d see the word hanging in a bubble over Jurgen’s head. He

turned to look. Jurgen was smiling, amused, but holding a hand over

his middle protectively. He winked at Nik.
Winked!
“Nik isn’t sexy

enough for you baby, not when we’re in bed.”

Damn him for being cute. “Or on the counter,” Nik grumbled.

Jurgen smiled wider. “Or on the counter. But ‘Nikky’; that’s sexy. I

could moan that in your ear.”

“Oh. My. God.” Nik cast his eyes heavenward. Help was not

forthcoming. It was all for show, anyway. Truth was, he was

beginning to hate it when Jurgen fed him those lines. When he said

stuff like that—that was impossibly, ridiculously cheesy—it made Nik

realize just how cheap and easy he was.

He huffed out a sigh and looked at Jurgen again. He was going for

exasperated. “How about a demonstration and I’ll consider it.”

God, he was such a fool.

****

Fortunately or unfortunately—whatever—it was very hot to be

called Nikky when a big sexy cop was rubbing his dick up against

yours. Hot enough that Nik came when Jurgen whispered it in his ear

and squeezed a big hand around them both, thrusting up and twisting

those fingers.

Nik preferred to maintain the fiction that it had to do with the

fingers and not the voice in his ear, saying that name.

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 839

He was naked in bed, still, but Jurgen was up and dressed again. It

was 10:30 and Nik was so tired he yawned every other second. It had

been a long day, and then he’d come twice. Hard. Just give him carbs

and he’d be out like a light.

Jurgen sat on the bed, then leaned over and braced his hands over

Nik’s body, lips above his. Saying goodbye. “That was hot. Can we do

it again sometime?” That man used “hot” far too much for Nik. Even

if it was an apt description. Nik absently rubbed his thigh on Jurgen’s

hip through the sheet.

“I go back to my place in the city day after tomorrow.” It was true.

He said it without thinking, but as he did Nik realized it was probably

for the best. They should end this, whatever it was. He was coming to

the unnerving conclusion that he actually liked Jurgen. Who was very

obviously not a relationship type of guy.

Conversely, Nik wasn’t sure he was a fuck-buddy type of guy. Not

when it came to Jurgen.

Jurgen gave him a level look. Then he nodded. He leaned down

and kissed Nik quickly. “I had a good time, Nik. Thanks.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Nik lay in bed, trying to recapture that elusive sense of sated

exhaustion he’d just had. Jurgen’s boots hit each step softly for a guy

his size. Nik listened to them crunch across the gravel once Jurgen

had gone out the door, locking it behind him—he’d made a point of

assuring Nik he would. Silence for a while, then finally Nik heard the

motor come to life, no coughing or sputtering, gearing up quickly

once Jurgen had it on the road. Slowly it faded away.

CHAPTER SIX

Nik usually loved the beginning of the term. Usually.

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 840

This term? Not so much. He was bored. All of his classes seemed

not quite right. Like they could be slightly more interesting. He’d

always thought they were interesting enough before.

The beginning of his second week of classes and he was bored.

The rest of the quarter was not looking good.

Oh, god, and who were all these people who thought they could

write? The kids in the entry level class he had to teach were just so…

angsty.
Like it was a necessary tool in the writer’s repertoire. As if

none of them could write without
feeling
it.

They could write, of course, but damn they were a wordy group.

Of course he had no room to talk, being a wordy guy himself. He may

be the senior graduate teaching fellow in the department, now, but it

appeared he hadn’t lost any of his powers of excessive description.

Nik was considering writing more sparingly. Except when it came

to sex. He seemed to have a lot to say, there. He’d filled a whole

notebook on the subject since—he stopped in the middle of the

student union to take a breath, on his way from his class on Tuesday

morning to his office hours—The Hand Job.

And, you know, events since in the same vein.

Shut up
, he told himself wearily. His inner editor had put in a lot

of overtime recently.

Once he got to the English Department, he took a left and walked

past the work-study girl who was supposed to be their new

receptionist on his way to his staff mailbox. What was her name?

Carla. Nik stopped and stared at her a second. She was looking

dazedly over his shoulder. “Carla” didn’t seem quite right.

“Carlie?” Partly to get her attention and partly to figure out if that

was her name.

“Charles,” she said absently. She said it the French way.
Shaaarl
.

“Uh, no, Carlie. I’m Nik Larson, remember? We met last week.

I’m a GTF.”

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 841

Finally she tore her eyes from whatever was so fascinating behind

him. “Charles is
my
name. I know who you are.”

Oh. “Sorry, Charlie.”


Shaaarl
.”

He smiled weakly. “Yeah, that was a… never mind. Sorry Sharl.”

He moved on toward his mailbox.

“Mister Larson?”

“Just call me Nik, Sharl.”

“Okay, um, Nik?”

Nik looked up from sorting brightly colored flyers into recycle.

Jeez, he had a lot. This was going to take a while. “Yeah?”

Sharl was making bashful eyes across the room when he looked at

her. Nik was suspicious they were faux-bashful, practiced in front of a

mirror for maximum effect. “You have a visitor,” she said just as Nik

turned to see who she was making eyes at.

“Nik.” Jurgen stood in the visitors’ area, nodding at him.

Oh, jeez. Nik’s world had another one of those shifts in reality as

the brightly colored papers fell around his feet like confetti. Throwing

Jurgen a little parade.

****

“What are you doing here?” Did that sound rude? Nik hoped not.

He was mostly just amazed.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No. But, I mean, how did you get here?”

“I drove.”

Of course he drove. “It’s a two-hour drive.”

Jurgen shrugged negligently and looked out the office window.

Nik shared the office with two other GTF’s. Who were hopefully

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 842

nowhere in the area. “Little more. It’s a nice day for it. Took the

chopper.”

“But what are you
doing
here?” Nik took a couple of frustrated

steps toward Jurgen, skirting a desk. Did the man ever just answer a

direct question?

Jurgen turned to look at him again.
Oh shit
. He really was punch-

in-the-gut attractive. No wonder Sharl had stared. Nik wanted to

admire the shape of his jaw and the slight stubble on his cheek

catching the sunlight, or the way his eyes were that light brown

translucent color but he decided not to let his mind go there. “I came

to see you,” Jurgen finally said.

Nik stared at him. He’d thought… something else. “Me?”

Jurgen nodded. “You.”

“Why?”

Jurgen smiled. “I think you know why, Nik.”

Nik’s heart stuttered. Ideas he didn’t know he’d been entertaining

started swimming around in his mind. Jurgen couldn’t mean—

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Jurgen took a couple of steps

closer. He was doing that sexual stalker thing he did. He was so good

at that. Weaving his way through the small room stuffed with way too

much cast-off furniture. “We barely got any time together, Nikky. I

want more.”

Nik nodded mutely. God, he wanted more, too. He couldn’t

believe a guy like Jurgen, though, would—

Jurgen was right in his face, now. “I want another shot at your ass,

Nikky.”

Thud
.

Nik could feel his nostrils flare. “You can’t get another ass closer

to home? I’d think you’d have no problem with that, your technique is

quite refined.” Sheesh, he sounded like a bitchy fag, didn’t he? Talk

about technique.

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 843

Jurgen was so close his smile blinded Nik. He let his chest slide

against Nik’s, hands still in his pockets. Thank god he wasn’t wearing

the chaps. Nik was powerless against the chaps. Jurgen leaned

forward to speak in his ear. “Of course I can get another ass closer to

home.”

Of
course
he could. Knowing didn’t slow Nik’s heart rate any.

“I just want yours, Nikky.”

Shit, he
hated
it when Jurgen made him feel special. Nik tilted his

head, just a tiny bit. It was more comfortable that way. Had nothing to

do with Jurgen’s cheek skimming his temple. Jurgen nipped at Nik’s

earlobe. “‘Sides, you owe me.”

Nik sucked in a breath. “Owe you?” It sounded so much more

outraged in his head. Nik heard keys jangling in Jurgen’s pocket, and

he looked down. Oh, fuck, Jurgen was hard and there wasn’t enough

room in his jeans to pull his hand out, so his hand was fighting leaving

his pocket and somehow that just seemed so wonderfully obscene it

made Nik’s heart thump
again
. In a good way. He closed his eyes for

just a second, then blinked them open just in time to see Jurgen’s hand

fight its way free, holding something in his fingers.

Handcuffs.

****

Nik’s inner slut (really, could it reasonably be referred to as an

inner
slut anymore?) let Jurgen fuck him on his desk. Handcuffed.

Completely naked. Jurgen didn’t do much more than lock the door and

open his fly.

It was the hottest sex Nik had ever had. Jurgen had him stretched

out on his desk, arms stretched over his head and pinned by one of

Jurgen’s big hands, the other gripping Nik’s hip. He’d nearly screamed

into Jurgen’s mouth when he came. Fuck, he hoped no one was in the

neighboring offices. The desk was so old it had squeaked every time

Jurgen thrust into him.

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 844

Nik lay on the desk, chest working, naked, handcuff dangling off

one wrist—Jurgen unlocked the other almost before Nik stopped

shooting—staring at the ceiling. Jurgen set a box of tissues next to his

head. Nik closed his eyes.

For about thirty seconds after he came, he was euphoric. Even

emotional. Now the humiliation was setting in. He expected to hear

Jurgen’s zipper next, then the sound of his boots crossing the room.

Please, higher power, let him shut the door behind him.

Jurgen chuckled. Oh, great, he was going to laugh at Nik, first.

Nik heard the zipper go up. He swallowed. Then there was an

unidentifiable shushing sound next to his head. Nik wrinkled his

brow, trying to place it.

He felt tissue on his stomach. His eyes flew open. Jurgen was

cleaning him up. He smiled at Nik lazily as he threw the wadded up

tissues in the silly little office trash can. Nik wondered how many

other graduate teaching fellows had evidence of sexual misconduct in

their trash cans. Probably lots. He looked back at Jurgen as he

smoothed a palm down Nik’s chest from throat to navel, then caught

Nik’s wrist. He pulled him up by it, unlocking the cuff from that one.

Jurgen stepped back from the desk, putting the cuffs back in his

pocket. “Let me take you to lunch before we go back to your place.

Can you leave, yet?” He leaned over to mess with something by the

door, and Nik watched the muscles in his back flex under Jurgen’s

tight T-shirt.

“Uh.” Could he? It was the beginning of the term, did he need to

be here for his office hours? Well, technically, yes.

Jurgen pulled his leather chaps out of a backpack and started

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