Fran
I tapped my pen against my book, lifting my eyes to look at Brian for a split second.
As I'd been doing for the past hour.
Studying was the last thing on my mind, but I could tell it was the first thing on his.
I bit down on my lip, pulling my glasses off of my face. I rested my head in my hand, my eyes fixated on him. Questioning how one person could look so good doing absolutely nothing.
He shifted his position, opening his legs wider and dropping his head in his hand. He glanced over at me, smiling when he realized I was already looking at him.
"Workin' hard?"
I nodded, smiling. "Mm hmm."
He chuckled, looking back down at his book. "I'm stressed about this test."
"Why?" I asked, stretching my legs out across the couch, rubbing my feet against his leg.
He grabbed my ankles and placed my legs on his lap, rubbing my leg for me. "Math is just not my thing. Never has been."
"You have a B plus in that class right now," I said, scooting closer to him, "you're doing great."
I rubbed his bare shoulders, trailing my eyes down his body. Shirtless, clad in sweatpants and nothing else. Ugh. I love it here.
"I am terrified of flunking."
"You're not gonna flunk," I said.
He looked over at me, nodding down at my book. "What were you studying?"
"Not shit," I honestly answered, making him smile and rub his hand up my leg.
I closed my book and placed it on the coffee table, grinning at him as I climbed over into his lap. He looked up at me with a smile and threw his book on the ground, pushing his hips up to meet mine as I pressed my lips against his.
"Door's locked?" I asked, pressing needy kisses to his neck.
He nodded, gripping my hips tightly. I pulled away from him and stood up, earning his eyes. He spread his legs and looked up at me, no trace of a smile on his face — just carnal eyes, and nothing made me more excited.
I pulled my shirt over my head, throwing it to the side. He leaned forward and grabbed my waist, pulling me back into his lap. I giggled, pushing him down on his back on the couch.
"I can't get enough of you lately," I whispered, hovering above him.
"What about me?" He asked, propping his head up on the couch arm.
I trailed my fingers down his chest, to his defined abdomen, and to the waistline of his sweats, dipping my hand inside.
"This," I said, feeling him hard beneath his underwear.
"How bad do you want it?" He asked, grinning up at me.
Holy shit. How did he get so hot?
I was at a loss — I stuttered, blinking a few times.
"I want it bad," I finally said, chewing on my lip.
"Well, I want this," he said, gripping my backside, "more than you could ever know."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he said, pushing my shorts down, "I'll prove it to you."
He pushed his sweatpants down, looking up at me as he rubbed his fingers against my bud through my underwear.
