𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐘

[20] Rated-R Movie

r a t e d - r  m o v i e
COVEY'S POV:

So he made me sit down on the couch. And then he put on a movie. And I thought it was gonna be like Chicken Little or The Sandlot  or something like that, but he put on a rated-R movie. 

He put on Fifty Shades of Grey.

Thirty minutes into the movie, I look over at Conrad who has his eyes fixed on me intensely. "Why aren't you watching the movie, Coco?"

"I want to see your reaction," he says, not looking away.

I gulp and bite the inside of my cheek. "Yeah, okay."

"I want to see your reactions to the things he does to her," he whispers lower, his voice barely audible. "Because you don't know how far you can go, but I can find out by your reaction to the scenes."

I nod, trying to keep my eyes on the screen. So he wants to watch me watch other people doing 'it'? 

That's not creepy at all. In fact, it's kinda hot. Oh my, what has he done to me...

I take a chicken nugget from off of my plate and bite the head off the dinosaur as I continue watching the attraction that Christian has for Anastasia. And in my personal opinion, he's so intense it's kind of creepy. But okay. Conrad Monroe is a lot better than Christian Grey.

When I go to reach over to grab the glass of water from off the coffee table, one of the chicken nuggets falls off my plate and I let out a tiny whimper. Dino chicken nuggets can't fly, idiot. 

I set my plate to the side and kneel down on the floor to pick it up, popping it in my mouth right away. When I go to get up, my gaze locks with Conrad's and I sit back on my heels, fixing my hair.

"What?" I ask, swallowing my bite.

He licks his lips and they curl upwards at one of his thoughts. "Nothing."

I tap his knee and his eyes turn a shade darker. Fifty shades of gray. "Tell me."

He shakes his head, relaxing against the couch a little more, arms draped over the cushions. "I'm just imagining things."

"Like what—" Oh. Ohhhh.

Conrad smirks, watching as the gears keep turning in my mind. He's thinking about me doing that—uh, doing... that—to him.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat because the chicken nugget is now gone and I have nothing else to occupy myself with. Number one, the fact I'm watching a BDSM movie is so not like me. And number two, I'm on my knees in front of Conrad not sure how to give him what he wants.

So despite the fact that my cheeks feel red and hot, and I don't know what I'm doing, and I feel incredibly flustered, I reach up in a moment of extraordinary confidence and grip the waistband of his pants. "You're the teacher, so teach me," I say, my voice coming out smooth and collected, dripping with confidence.

And he moves his hands down to grip my forearms, a look of want glossing over his gray eyes. "Covey."

"Teach me, Professor," I repeat, determination laced in my tone as I drown out the movie in the background. "Tell me what you want me to do."

He sits up in a millisecond and grabs my wrists, walking me down the hall and towards his room.

Yessir.

When we get to his room, he shuts the door and aggressively pins me up against the cold wood, his hips restraining me as one of his hands pins both of my wrists above my head. Woah baby. His free hand traces the outline of my body, and he lowers his lips down onto mine in a hurry.