Papillon

Chapter 28: Tick Tock

Francis

A frustrated and overly dramatic sigh escaped Bella. Flicking my gaze above my laptop, a pouty expression in a pink skirt and white cardigan stared back at me. Perched on her desk, her legs were swinging as I sat next to her, working.

"What's wrong, papillon?"

"How long is this going to take?"

"I don't know, baby. I need to finish this essay if I want to go to college," I replied, amused.

"You've been working on it for two hours, Francis Duval," she complained. I'd come over to her place at her request but had a shit-ton of college scholarship applications to complete. Bella, on the other hand, was just... very sexually frustrated.

"I'm almost done," I promised, kissing her hand.

"How much do you have left?"

"Just the conclusion."

I looked at her apologetically and she narrowed her eyes at me. Then, a sinful smile pulled at her lips.

"I'll make you a deal," she said.

I leaned back in her chair, watching her pull out her phone to play Bryson Tiller and Trey Songz on her speakers. The fact that I even knew who they were was a phenomenal example of just how pussy-whipped I was.

She stood up with her back to me and let her cardigan slip off her shoulders, tossing it onto my face. The coconut scent engulfed me entirely.

"What's the deal?" I tilted my head to the side, truly interested in what she might have to say to me now.

"If you finish your essay by the time everything is off my body, we have sex tonight. If not..."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's extremely unfair."

Slowly taking her earrings off, she set them down gently on her dressing table, never breaking eye contact with me. "Tick, tock, tick, tock."

Frustrated, I groaned and unbuttoned the uppermost button of my shirt, rolling my sleeves up. Willing myself to stay focused on my useless fucking essay. Who the hell needed college?

She seemed to be enjoying the music, swaying her hips as she slowly removed her other pink accessories.

Her knee-high socks came off next, and she took her time sitting on the divan by her bed, drawing attention to every single part of her legs. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the room in my pants becoming significantly smaller.

"This is entirely barbaric," I reprimanded, my voice sharp.

"If it's bothering you so much, you should do something about it," she cooed suggestively.

"What if I just say I'm done?"

"I know you're not," she winked, removing her other sock just as seductively as the first. To be fair, she could fall and break her goddamn dressing table right now and I would think it was seductive.

Training my eyes on the screen again, I typed furiously at the goddamn keyboard, trying to get more work done before she cleared her throat innocently. I flicked my gaze to her, watching the material of her skirt shimmy down her waist and slowly fall to the floor.

An agitated growl escaped me.

"You're distracting me," I chided.

"No, baby... I'm motivating you," she purred. "Come on, now... keep working."

In one move, she pulled the hem of her shirt up until she was standing there in a matching pink lingerie set that made me want to literally tell NYU to shove it up their fucking ass and accept me or not, I don't give a damn.