Show Me: Extracurricular Activities #4 Read online

  Show Me

  Extracurricular Activities #4

  Neve Wilder

  Copyright © 2019 by Neve Wilder

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Art by Neve Wilder

  Copy Editing by One Love Editing

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Foreword

  1. Episode 4

  Want More Neve Wilder?

  Also By Neve Wilder

  About Neve Wilder

  Foreword

  WARNING: This episode of Nate and Eric’s story ends on a big ol’ cliffy. I mean, the others did too, but this one’s a humdinger. So if you’re the kind of reader that absolutely can’t take the angst plus the wait, you might want to just hold out for Extracurricular Activities #5, which I am hard at work on right now. It will be out February 23rd. Then you can read #4 and #5 back to back. :)

  Otherwise, onward!

  Episode 4

  I woke out of a dead slumber with a jolt, my eyes flying wide and automatically wincing against the assault of morning light. Confused, I fumbled to get my bearings, fingertips brushing against soft cotton and then bumping up against warm skin as my vision adjusted. My heart beat wildly in my chest, and I wasn’t entirely sure why until a knock sounded and I jumped all over again, fight-or-flight instinct lacing my sense of bewilderment.

  A warm hand slid over the center of my chest and splayed, pressing me back into the mattress as Eric’s voice came low and soft. “Relax, it’s locked. I made sure earlier when I came back from taking a piss.”

  His fingers trailed in a sluggish caress over my skin, a heat he took with him as he slid off the end of the bed and ambled toward the door, shoving one hand lazily in his boxers as he went. In my still half-asleep state, I did the only logical thing I could think of: I flail-rolled myself off the other side of the bed, landing heavily on the floor, out of sight of the door just as I heard the lock pop as Eric opened it. I twisted around and rested my head on my forearm so I could peer around the bottom of the bed like I was back in fucking high school hiding from some girlfriend’s parents. It’d happened a couple of times.

  “Why bother with an alarm clock when there’s your ass,” Eric groused, and I had to silently agree with him; why the hell were people in this house such early risers? But when I glanced over my shoulder at the clock on the bedside table, I was surprised to find it read 10:00 a.m.

  “You seen Nate?”

  I froze, and there was a brief pause before Eric replied, “At the thing last night, yeah. He was still there when I left, though.”

  Mark made a disgruntled noise. “Weird. His door’s cracked and—dude, can you leash that thing or something? I feel like I need to salute it back.”

  “You interrupted my morning briefing.” Eric laughed, and the husky sound of it slid across the room like a shaft of light and pooled in my stomach. I shifted around as my dick got hard at the mere suggestion that his was, too. Great, my Pavlovian instincts had reached even creepier heights. If Eric popped wood in the middle of a forest and no one was around to see it…

  I must have made some noise, because Eric shot a look over his shoulder, and I tried to stave off the snicker that was bubbling up in my chest by pressing my mouth to my forearm.

  Mark snorted, then continued. “Anyway, he came home with me last night… Guess he could have gotten up really early. Whatever. If you see him, will you remind him that we have chapter today? He’s been flaky as fuck lately, and it’s weirding me out. You think he’s up to something?”

  “Like what?” I could hear the skepticism in Eric’s voice and was duly impressed by his acting abilities. I’d have been stuttering.

  Mark hedged for a second, trying to come up with something, I guess, and completely clueless that his answer to what I was “up to” was standing in front of him sporting morning wood that I was very interested in giving a happy ending. “I dunno. Maybe banging some chick he doesn’t want us to find out about?”

  Eric broke into loud laughter, probably because his thoughts were running along the same track mine were.

  Mark joined in. “Like that butterface from Kappa?”

  Eric’s laughter trailed off. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, guess you wouldn’t. Speaking of chicks, that redhead you’re always hanging out with, Amelia?”

  “Amanda,” Eric corrected.

  “You hitting that? Because daaaaamn.”

  “Nope.” There was a long pause, and I knew Mark well enough to know he was waiting for more. An offer for a hookup or some further explanation. Eric’s tight-lipped game was stronger, though, and for whatever reason, he apparently didn’t want to give anything else up to Mark. After a moment, Mark must have relented with a gesture or something, because the next thing I heard was a quiet, “Yeah, cool. I’m out,” and then Eric shut the door again.

  I heard the lock click and dropped my forehead on my arm in relief. I had a singular moment of wondering what the fuck I was even doing—on so many counts—before a billow of air puffed over me when Eric flopped back on the bed and peered down at me as I rolled onto my back to stare up at him. The residual adrenaline running through me made me antsy.

  “Don’t need coffee anymore this morning—maybe a tranquilizer instead.”

  Eric gave me a tight smile as he eyed me. “This is like a scenario out of a bad after-school special.”

  “Jesus, what kind of after-school specials did you watch growing up?”

  He flipped some hair from his eyes and folded his forearms over the edge of the bed, resting his chin on top. He looked…nice in the morning. A little softer, and it wasn’t like I was intimidated by him—not physically, at least—but his presence seemed so vivid and commanding in the places we got off together that just the ordinariness of being with him in his room somehow felt weirdly intimate. I kinda wished we hadn’t had such a rude awakening, that…

  “None, actually. My parents didn’t believe in TV.”

  “How can you not believe in TV?”

  “The old ‘it rots your brain’ argument.” He shrugged one shoulder lazily. “So I was left to my own devices.”

  “And look how you turned out, getting guys off in libraries and at fundraisers.”

  “I think you were there, too, so not exactly an equal argument in favor of TV either.”

  “Point.” I laughed and rubbed a hand over the scruff on my jaw. I ached for a shower, and I really needed to go to the gym, but damn, Eric’s mouth was right there, silently telling me what I needed instead was to fill it with my cock. I licked my lips and pushed the heel of my hand against my boxers as I met his eyes and I saw it, that shadow passing through the olive-green tones, the darkening of want making its presence known.

  He took a quiet breath, gaze drifting down to my boxers, then back up again. “You threw me for a loop last night.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ve been throwing me for about a month now.” I could have worded it better, but it came out as a blurted confession.

  He touched the corner of his mouth with his tongue, gaze raking over my body again. It really was a raking, too, like he had the power to drag furrows down my body, leave welt marks behind, hot and pink. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded and swallowed hard, hoping like fuck I wasn’t blushing, even though I felt the creep of heat over my neck and my cheeks. What was it about the way he looked at me that could turn me from tepid to hell-fire blaze in seconds? Eric scra ped his teeth over his lower lip, making it pop out all shiny and slick, reminding me what he looked like when he was sucking my dick.

  Silence fell, this kind of tension-heavy pause like a finger hovering over a taut rubber band. And I felt like I was waiting for him to snap it against the inside of my wrist. One of us was supposed to fill it, probably with words, probably with conversation about what the fuck we were doing, and it defaulted to him since I’d been the last one to speak, but it was obvious after a handful of seconds that he wasn’t going to.

  Instead, Eric pulled himself forward over the edge of the bed, fingers tensing to brace his weight on either side of me as he slid from the mattress and straddled me in one long, sinuous movement that rolled over me like rippling water. That light, that liquid. His breath on my lips was faintly minty; he must have brushed his teeth earlier. I hadn’t, and probably should’ve been more self-conscious, but I wasn’t because his closeness absolutely fucking consumed me like nothing else. My entire body was suddenly on alert, my nerves prickling with awareness and the hairs on my damn forearms lifting as he dipped down and licked my lower lip slowly while the bottom half of his body pressed into mine, everything about him hard and warm.

  Fuck, he had a sexy mouth, and his lashes lay dark against his cheek as his tongue made another pass before he opened his eyes to find me watching him. I opened my mouth to him, let his tongue flick lightly over mine. Not exactly a kiss, but a wet, repetitive caress that was strangely fucking hot and exciting in its weirdness.

  He rolled his hips once against me and drew back by an inch when I groaned.

  “Want me to throw you again right now?”

  “Trick question.” I knew the second I said yes, he’d take me all the way to the edge, then leave me hanging. And besides, the loop throwing was already well in progress. A foregone conclusion. I mean, Jesus fucking Christ, I’d crawled into his bed last night like some desperado. In the light of day, it was more than a little embarrassing. I’d never really been the kind of guy to give chase. Could I blame it on those last several beers?

  I rolled upright and intercepted him, pushing him onto his back and catching his startled expression a second before I straddled his knees and yanked the band of his boxers down, exposing the thick cock lying along his thigh. By the time I looked back up, he’d regained his composure, and that smooth amber chuckle came out to spur me on as I lowered my mouth and licked up the length of his thigh, dark hairs tickling the tip of my tongue until I reached his crown and circled it. With a groan, his hands flew to my hair and he arched into me.

  “All of it, Sanders, don’t be a tease.”

  I played along, wrapping my lips around him, filling my mouth with his cock, and there was something insanely sexy and gratifying about feeling him get hard in my mouth, about all that soft skin tightening and stretching just for me when I bathed it with my tongue. Maybe this was exactly why he liked fucking around with me so much. The sense of control was as much an aphrodisiac as the awareness that it could shift any moment.

  And it did, because a second later, Eric anchored his fist tight in my hair, holding me still while he fucked my mouth, drawing back just enough for me to catch my breath when I choked before plunging in again, hard and fast, the muscles in his stomach strained and defined, his thighs like granite underneath me. The scattershot roughness of his exhales urged me on as he propped himself up on one elbow, kept the other hand tight in my hair, and dug his nails almost painfully into my scalp.

  “Look at me,” he demanded. “Yeah, just like that.”

  I felt my moan vibrating against his cockhead as I met his eyes. What a fucking way to start the morning.

  I tasted his precome, lapped the saltiness from his slit as he hissed, his eyes shuttering closed like a cat blinking in the sunlight, and just as soon opening again, because he was a greedy bastard and liked to see his dick between my lips. I kept my gaze locked on his and, just for his benefit, opened my mouth and let him watch the flat of my tongue running up and down his glistening shaft.

  He snapped out a curse, and when I felt a telltale quiver of his thighs beneath me, I closed my mouth over him again, gave him one last hard suck, and popped free, leaning back on his thighs.

  I half expected him not to let me go, to drag me back down onto his dick and fill my mouth with his release. If he had, I’d have finished him, would’ve been helpless not to. Instead, there was a flare of frustration in his eyes, then dawning understanding and amusement.

  “That’s how you’re gonna play it, huh? A little tit for tat?”

  “That’s about the size of it, yeah.” I licked my lips clean and wiped my chin with my hand. “You could always ask me nicely to finish you off.” I arched a brow, and he rolled his lips inward to fight off a smile. “But that ain’t happening, is it?”

  His eyelids drooped to half-mast, all confident ease as he gave his cock a few light strokes. “Nope. I’d tell you to. And you would, wouldn’t you, frat boy? You’d come right back and open that sexy mouth for me and let me blow my load all over your face.”

  “Probably.” Yes. No point in trying to deny it when my dick presented all the evidence in the wet patch that had darkened the front of my boxers. Asshole. He could twist something in a second and it was crazy how addicted I was to it, how much I looked forward to it, even when I tried to test the invisible boundary lines we danced around.

  I was so hard it fucking hurt, and I wasn’t even sure why I felt the need to challenge him. He was underneath me, ready to give me exactly what we both knew I wanted, but there was something about the unspoken stalemate and constant anticipation between us that stoked my arousal. I knew I’d spend the rest of the day—hell, whatever amount of time elapsed between now and when we next hooked up—thinking about it, wanting it, playing it in my head, aching for it.

  Eric pumped his cock a few more times, so fucking swollen, the crown fat and leaking. I could practically feel his jizz ready to pop off. And goddamn I wanted it. My palms were getting the tops of my thighs wet where I clutched them in an effort to keep from touching myself, determined to carry this out. Not that Eric was making it easy, of course. He never did.

  And he didn’t now.

  He rolled upright, unseating me from his thighs and wrestling me onto my back where he hovered over me and rubbed his cock against mine in one long, serpentine, nerve-spiking thrust. “You’d let me fill you with my fingers. My tongue. My dick. Whatever I wanted. Wherever I wanted. However I wanted.” Each word spilled like an incantation, a primal rhythm to it that had me spreading my legs wider, only half realizing that I was opening myself up to him. I swear the fucker could cast spells talking like that. He reached down and pinched the head of my cock until I winced, then let go. Blood rushed back in, bringing with it a tingle that made me light-headed. “Wouldn’t you?”

  Check. Check. Check. Check. My dick twitched and leaked. I balled my hands into fists to keep from reaching for it or for him. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to see if I’d beg without asking or being prompted, without telling me to do it explicitly. And damn, I was close, feeling his dick hard against mine, his body surrounding me, overtaking me, the hard rise and fall of his chest, and that crazy penetrating, unflinching stare of his, like he’d never been ashamed in his life, like he’d always been perfectly, incautiously fucking filthy and relentless about what he wanted.

  I didn’t even have the instinct to try to wriggle free.

  “Yes,” I admitted on a moan, digging my nails into my own palms.

  He reached for my hand, uncurling my fingers, only to wrap them around his cock, then kept his grip on my knuckles as he squeezed, pressing my sweaty palm into his hot skin. His face was so close that when he licked his lips, I felt the tip of his tongue tease over me. I let out a shaky breath, close to coming just like that.

  “But you’re right. Trick question.” His words fell over my lower lip on an exhale, and I could tell by his eyes that he was smiling that enigmatic smile. It was a mo ot point. He’d just proven that he didn’t even have to open his mouth and I’d do whatever the fuck he wanted.

  It irritated the shit out of me.

  It also got me hotter than hell.

  I scowled as his grin broke wider and he squeezed my hand again, in turn squeezing himself so hard another bead of precome dripped from his slit. I sucked in a shaky breath as it ran down my knuckles.

  And then he pulled his hand away and said, “I’ve got shit to do.”

  Dismissed in a span of seconds. Typical fucking Eric. It was frustrating to no end, but I couldn’t deny the exhilaration that accompanied it.

  He planted his palm in the center of my chest and shoved himself upright, then stood, picking up my pants from the floor and tossing them toward me.

  I caught them one-handed, stuck my feet in, and arched my hips to pull them up. “You’re such a dick sometimes, you know that?”

  “I know you like it. I know it gets you hard. That’s what I know.”

  I rolled my eyes at his back, stood up as I fastened my pants, then headed for the door. “I’ll be around,” I tossed out, as nonchalantly as I could while still sporting a giant, throbbing erection.

  “Nate.”

  I turned back to see him fishing through his nightstand. He took out a folded piece of paper and frisbeed it in my direction. I missed and had to pick it up from the floor before I could open it and stare uncomprehendingly at the numbers. “What’s this?”

  “Lab results. If you want to keep doing this, maybe you should get checked out, too.”

  My head immediately populated with filthy images of his bare dick plunging inside me. The blazing heat, the unrestrained surge of his come through me, filling me, dripping from my hole. Fucking Christ. The paper in my hands was going limp with how much my palms were sweating over the prospect. I tossed it back on the bed and squeezed my dick through my pants while he smirked.