Out of Her League (17 page)

She put a hand on his shoulder to steady
herself, but he stopped her. She frowned curiously as he slowly turned her
around.

“Like this,” he said, his lips pressed to
the small of her back.

“I don’t…” she began, the words caught in
her throat as he brought his knees together and encouraged her to straddle
them. “Trust me,” he said, his voice dark, his lips coasting up her spine.

She let him guide her, pressing a hand to
the table for support as he helped her to sit in his lap, his cock running between
her legs and along her folds.

She rolled her hips and hummed happily.

“Christ,” he gasped. “You keep doing that
and this will be over quickly.”

“No,” she said. She didn’t want that. She
wanted all that heat and girth and
promise
to be
in her
.

She reached between her legs, lifting a
little and wrapping her hands around his shaft. His hands clenched her waist,
holding her up, then holding her steady as she sank down again, this time
taking him into her body.

She groaned at the long, slow stretch, how he
filled her up, split her open. Her legs trembled, torn between making this last
forever or letting herself fall and feeling him lodged deep inside her. His
low, desperate moan vibrated through her, the sound cut off when her weight
finally,
finally
rested fully on his thighs and she ground against him.

“Fuck. Fuck, god. Look at you.” His hands
ran over her hips and ass, then up her ribs and around, pulling her back
against his chest.

Her head fell back onto his shoulder and
she rolled her hips continuously. He thrust up against her and matched her
gyrations, keeping himself deep while his cock did unspeakable things inside
her.

“Does that feel good?” he asked over her
shoulder, like the proverbial devil. Fortunately, there was no angel to balance
it.

“God, yes,” she gasped, shuddering at how
his cock rubbed her just right inside, sending bright jolts of pleasure deep
into her core.

She cried out when his fingers strummed
over her clit, her hips losing their steady circles in favor of jerking
helplessly. His other hand cupped her breast.

“Hold on,” he murmured and she did, reaching
down and back to cling to his hips, anticipation making her dizzy.

She moaned, low and shameless, as he slid
lower in the chair and spread his knees, hers hooked over top, spreading with
them wide. She tipped forward, her hair in her face, forced to release her hold
on him to wrap her fingers around the edge of the table. She squeezed her eyes
shut and whined low in her throat as his cock nudged deeper, as far as he could
go, jolting against something that maybe hurt, but maybe felt fucking amazing.

She had no idea how long she hung like
that, gasping and writhing on his lap, before she realized her feet were still
able to touch the floor. She wondered, vaguely, if he’d known all along that
her heels would give her control.

“
Yes
,” he groaned when she lifted
up, and she heard the absolute relief in his voice, the sound cut short when
she dropped back down again. The shock of their bodies striking fired an
explosion of pleasure through her entire body, electrified jolts that reached
her fingers and toes.

His hands slid over her ribs, damp with
sweat now, trying to help and find purchase. She could feel how they shook. She
shifted her weight forward, using the table as leverage as he pushed her down
onto his cock, his hips twitching up rhythmically, each thud of skin on skin like
a low bass drum of desire.

Her thighs screamed at the workout they
were getting—in heels, no less—but that was nothing compared to the litany of
swears and praise streaming from Lachlan’s mouth. He told her she was
beautiful, that he’d wanted to fuck her the moment he’d seen her, that he loved
her quick mind and remarkably firm ass.

She laughed, joyous, and took her pleasure
as he encouraged her to do exactly that. He’d given up on helping her move,
focusing instead on getting her off. One arm curled around her hip, his hand
dipping low and attacking her clit.

A noise tore from her throat, inarticulate
for all that it was clearly begging.

“God, you like that,” he grunted,
satisfaction clear even through his labored breathing. “I want you to come,” he
told her. Demanded. “I want to feel you squeezing around my cock.”

She moaned, shivers running down her spine
at his words.

“I wish I could get my fingers in there,
too,” he growled and she whimpered, because she wanted that. She wanted him to
stuff her full and take her apart like that.

His other hand slid between their bodies, tracing
through her folds and around his cock. Then it was gone.

She whimpered when his slick fingers ran
along the valley of her ass.

“I bet I could feel it here,” he muttered
hoarsely, tapping a finger against the thin skin and nerve endings bunched
around the entrance to her ass. “I bet you’d squeeze my fingers so tight in
here.”

She nodded, not even sure what she was
trying to say, but knowing that she wanted it. His words lit her up, making the
hair on the back of her neck stand on end, her skin tingling as she ground
against him.

He wedged the tip of one finger into her
ass and she keened.

“Come on, baby,” he urged, his voice
ragged. “I need you to come. I’m going to fucking die if you don’t come soon,”
he groaned, shoving his hips up harder to meet her, pushing his finger in
farther in the process.

She sat back and ground down on his finger,
the angle stretching her tight hole open while his cock thrust and rubbed and his
other finger flicked over her clit. She rode it, rode all the sensations
storming her body, letting them swell up, fill her limbs and her head, until
they washed over her in a mighty rush.

 Her climax poured through her, tearing a
scream from her lips as his hips jabbed up against her, bouncing her on his
cock and his fingers, drawing out the waves of pleasure until he jerked against
her, his hips arched, and roared.

He was still twitching, the desperate clasp
of his hands on her hips—she hadn’t even noticed him pulling them from her
body—holding her steady as she came back to her senses, her mouth open wide to
suck as much air into her lungs as possible.

Wow
.

She collapsed forward, her head hanging
between her arms. She stared at the pins caught in the tangled hair hanging
about her face and huffed out a laugh. She was a wreck.

 He carefully eased her up and off of his
cock, pulling his legs together so she could perch on his thighs while he
addressed the condom behind her. She was still far too blissed out to move, let
alone offer any kind of help.

Easing her to the side, he curled an arm
around her ribs and another beneath her knees. She smiled and put her head on
his shoulder when he stood with her in his arms.

There couldn’t be that many philosophy
professors in the world who could do this, she thought vaguely, pressing her
face into his flushed, damp neck and savoring the smell of sweat and skin.
Still no cologne, even for a night out on the town.

She smiled and decided she would never like
those artificial scents again.

“Bedroom?” he asked.

“Little late for that, isn’t it?” she
murmured and pointed down the hallway.

He laughed softly into the disaster that
was her hair.

“How are you even standing right now?” she
asked in awe.

He put her down on her bed gently. “Sheer stubborn
will,” he assured her, pressing his lips to her forehead, then to the tip of
her nose. Finally, her lips.

The kiss was slow. Languorous. And far too short.

Still, she didn’t protest when he pushed
her back onto the bed, then pulled off her shoes and stockings. She maybe even
helped a little when he pulled down the covers and urged her to crawl beneath.

He kissed her again. “You okay?” he asked
softly.

She smiled. “I’m
great
.”

She fell asleep to the sound of his quiet
laughter and the press of his lips to her cheek.

Michaela crept into the library, looking up
each row of stacks as she slowly made her way to the back corner study room
Sadie had reserved for their group.

She didn’t see any sign of Tanner’s idiot
friends. In fact, she didn’t see much of anyone. She wondered if Sadie had
known this place would be deserted at this hour on a Monday morning, and that
was why she’d chosen it.

It was a nice thought, somehow.

She saw Eric go into the study room and
slipped in behind him.

“Good morning,” she said, and he jumped a
foot in the air.

“Holy crap, we should put a bell on you.”

“God, can you imagine what would happen
then
?”
she shot back sarcastically before realizing that maybe he wouldn’t find it
funny. It wasn’t like a quiet guy like him was ever going to appreciate all the
extra attention hanging around someone like her would bring.

He surprised her, though, when he smiled
shyly. “Guess that’s not a great idea for you, huh?”

“Ah, no. But I’d take an invisibility cloak
any day.”

Eric gave her a funny look, then turned to
set out his stuff on the table. Michaela sighed.
Way to make it awkward
again, Michaela,
she chided herself, then swore silently that she’d just
shut up for the rest of this meeting and see how it went.

She’d promised Lachlan she’d go into it
expecting to stick it out, but it was hard not to think about how much easier,
how much more painless, it would be if she just walked.

Tanner came in next and tried to smile. It
looked painful. Michaela just nodded and returned to organizing the abstracts
she’d prepared for her assigned readings.

“Look, I’m sorry about the other day.”

Her head snapped up and she stared at
Tanner. Jesus Christ, were they going to
talk about this?
A glance at
Eric told her he’d rather they didn’t either.

“It’s fine,” she said woodenly, when it
became apparent Tanner was waiting for some response.

“No, it wasn’t cool. I didn’t think when I
told them that they’d do that. It was total asshole behavior. I can make them
apologize if you want.”

Michaela’s eyes widened in alarm. “No!
Please, no, that’s not necessary.”

And maybe she’d been too forceful, because
Tanner winced and now looked even more pained. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s okay. I just don’t want…that.”

“Right,” Tanner said crossly.

Michaela looked at Eric desperately for
help, but he was sunken into his chair, silent and miserable looking.

She looked back at Tanner, who was also
slumped in his chair, not looking at her. “I appreciate the offer,” she said,
sincerely. Because she did. People rarely saw the need for anyone to apologize
for the shit they did around her.

“I won’t tell them when we’re meeting
anymore,” Tanner said.

Which was a probably a good idea, but
Michaela still felt guilty. “I don’t want to put you in a position where you
feel like you have to lie.”

Sadie came into the room then and paused.
“Who’s lying?”

“No one,” Tanner muttered. “We’re just
establishing some ground rules, I guess.”

Michaela’s heart sank. “If you’d rather, I
can go,” she said softly. It really would be easier for all of them, except
that there were
so many goddamn readings
.

“No,” Tanner said firmly. “It was my fault,
anyway.” He turned to Sadie. “You ready? I think we should just get to work.”

Sadie nodded slowly and sat at the table,
taking the time to look at each of them before pulling out her laptop and
papers.

From there it got a little easier, though
Tanner was still stiff, Sadie still studied them all curiously, and Eric remained
mostly silent. They exchanged the abstracts they’d each been assigned, and
reviewed them together, the atmosphere gradually easing as it became clear that
while their lives might be very different, when it came to their coursework they
were all pretty much in the same boat.

Even better, where one of them had a
question, usually at least one or two of the others could fill in the blanks.
It was such a huge fucking relief that Michaela found herself smiling and then arguing
right along with the others. When Eric admitted he could imitate Professor
Monroe, they badgered him into giving a performance that left them all
breathless with laughter.

She didn’t think of bowing out when they
made plans to meet a couple times over the next week. They all agreed that it
would benefit everyone if they went back and did the abstracts for the readings
that had been assigned before they’d formed this group, which meant more work
in the short-term, but hopefully less when it came time to study for their
exams later in the semester.

It wasn’t until they’d packed up and opened
the door to leave their room that Michaela remembered all the reasons this was
still not a good idea. A half dozen students were waiting for the room, and as
Michaela and the others filed out, everyone went silent, elbows nudging neighbors’
ribs and mouths dropping open as they passed.

Based on the looks on her study group’s
faces, they hadn’t enjoyed the reminder of what it meant to have Michaela in
their midst any more than she had.

Lachlan
hated
talking on the phone. As
a rule he ignored his cell phone, often leaving it on silent and then listening
to the voicemails later. Though he also hated voicemail, so it wasn’t like
people expected that to get him to call them back either.

He was still tempted to let it ring through
when he saw his phone vibrating on his desk. The only reason he answered was
because it was Callum, and he’d already left two messages in the past three
days alone.

He immediately regretted not
listening
to those messages when his brother’s voice boomed over the phone.

“So, what’s this I hear about you dating my
best friend?” Callum said, trying to sound stern. He was undermined, somewhat,
by Rupert laughing in the background and telling his husband to be nice.

“What?” Lachlan said, his brain jumping to
an image of Michaela draped over his lap, destroying him with her uninhibited
enthusiasm.

“I hear you and Michaela are getting
awfully
close.”

Callum had
no
idea.

Lachlan worried, suddenly, if he should
have been keeping better track of the gossip blogs. “Who the hell did you hear
that from?”

“Mom.”

“
Mom
?”

“Who heard it from Savannah.”

“Ugh.” Lachlan dropped his forehead onto
his desk.

“Who assured me, when I called her, that it
was all true. Something about Michaela watching your hockey games and dragging
you out to fancy-schmancy parties?”

“
Fancy-schmancy
—really? Weren’t you
the one who used to go to all those parties with her?”

“Yes, I was. And we were
dating.”

“No, you were not. You were
pretending
to date.” Which, actually, wasn’t the point. “And we’re not,” he clarified.

“Pretending to date?”

“Right.”

“So, you’re dating for real?”

Lachlan was more than a little alarmed by
how hopeful Callum sounded. Lachlan knew he was the last person on earth who
Michaela should date. Or who should date Michaela. His brother was clearly
deluded.

“No,” Lachlan said firmly.

“So, let me get this straight. You’re not
pretending to date, and you’re not dating for real, but you are going on dates.
How does that work, exactly?”

We hang out and have a lot of fantastic
sex.

Yeah, no, he’d just keep that to himself. Unless
he
wanted
Callum to drive down to Boston and punch him in the face.

“We’re friends,” he said instead.

“Well, that’s good. God knows she could use
a few more of those,” Callum said, sounding a little sad.

“She’s doing okay here, Cal.”

“Is she?”

“Yes. She’s even connected with an old
friend from school. I think they’re planning to have lunch next week.”

“Yeah? That’s good. She doesn’t have a lot
of friends from before.”

“Well, in this case, she hadn’t realized he
was someone who would have stood by her all along.”

“
He?”
Lachlan grinned at the
suspicion in his brother’s voice.

“Down, boy. Robby was way more into
flirting with me than hitting on Michaela.”

“Oh, ha. That’s okay then.”

“And it wouldn’t have been okay if it was a
man who might be interested in dating her?”

Callum sighed. “I don’t know. I worry. She
didn’t fake-date me just for fun, you know?”

“So, why did she?” Lachlan asked, wondering
if Callum would answer. Lachlan knew that Callum had been content to pretend to
date his best friend in order to stay firmly in the closet. But he’d never
understood Michaela’s motivations. And Callum had refused to explain it to
anyone in the family when they’d asked.

“The press likes to talk about how she
can’t keep a man. It’s ridiculous. And infuriating,” Callum said, voice dark.

Lachlan agreed, but it didn’t really answer
the question. “And so she thought she could keep you?”

“What? No. Nothing like that. It was just
to get the press off her ass for a while. She’d dated a few men since, you
know, the whole sex-tape thing, and just like for most people dating at that
age, it didn’t work out for various reasons. Only, instead of getting to be a
normal person who can walk away and be done with it, she’d get hit with
articles about how
sources close to him
had told reporters every little
thing she’d done and a bunch of shit she hadn’t.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Right. She’s under a lot of pressure. A
lot of eyes are on her. So, when it comes to the men in her life, I worry. A
lot.”

“I don’t blame you. I have no idea how you
went to all those functions with her and didn’t end up punching someone in the
face. If it wasn’t for Seamus, I’m not sure I would have made it through even
one night. I’m probably screwed next week.”

“You’re going out on
another
non-date next week?”

“No. Yes. Stop,” he said with a sigh. “It’s
not a date. It’s more like…a class.”

“A class,” Callum repeated flatly.

“Right. She’s trying to help me get over my
issues. You know, with talking to women and stuff,” he mumbled.

“Of course she is,” Callum said.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. It’s not important. What matters
is that you two are having fun. I’m glad you’ve become
friends.
”

Lachlan felt like there was another whole
conversation happening that he wasn’t getting, but he let it be. “Thanks. I
think.”

Callum laughed. “If it helps, now I’m going
to worry less. I’m glad you’re there for her.”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll try.”

Lachlan really didn’t know what else to
say. Or what else Callum might want him to do, other than be Michaela’s friend.
He was reasonably certain, though, that Callum wouldn’t appreciate
all
Lachlan was doing for—and to—Michaela these days.

He closed his eyes and saw, for the
thousandth time at least, her dress dropping to the floor and her gorgeous ass
as she walked away, bold as you please.

Lachlan was getting another erection,
sitting at his desk at work while speaking to his brother on the phone. And
that was just
wrong.
It was definitely time to change the subject. And
while Lachlan might not be the most adept conversationalist, he knew how to
derail his brother.

“So, how are the boys?”

It turned out Michaela’s trick of just
listening and making appropriate noises of interest worked as well on his
brother as it did on the doyens of society. Then he’d only had to mention that
he was due to meet Michaela and take her with him to his hockey game for his
brother to cut him loose.

Lachlan had to run to get home to grab his
gear, and found Michaela was waiting on his front porch. One of his neighbors was
standing on her own porch, two doors down, gawping.

He waved and she didn’t even blink, like he
was invisible. Honestly, what was
wrong
with people?

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said to Michaela as
he leapt up the stairs two at a time.

Michaela got out of the way of the door,
waiting until he was working at the lock before whispering, “And here I was
hoping we’d have time to warm you up before heading over to the rink.”

He promptly dropped his keys, letting out a
hoarse chuckle as he bent to retrieve them. “You’re making me want to miss my
game,” he grumbled.

“You wouldn’t.”

He smiled. “You’re right. I wouldn’t. But
you make me wish I would.”

Her smile was more than ample reward for
his honesty. He opened his door and reached for the bag just inside. They were
in his car and on the way to the rink before he finally got up the courage to
ask her what he’d been wondering about since she’d more or less propositioned
him in his porch.

“Would you be okay having sex at my house?”

Michaela looked over at him curiously.
“That’s a strange question. And I think we both know the answer.”

“Well, yes. Now, I mean. But I just
figured, with what happened…” He shrugged. “I’d understand if you wanted to
restrict our more intimate meetings to places where you could be sure you
weren’t being filmed.”

Michaela’s smile turned softer. It made
Lachlan’s stomach do funny things. “I don’t get why you think you’re not good
with people. You’re one of the most perceptive people I’ve ever met.”

Lachlan focused on the road. “That doesn’t say
much about the people you’ve met.”

“Maybe,” Michaela agreed with a laugh. “But
you’re right. I don’t, usually, take any risks.”

“But with me you would?”