Page 19 of With This Mask
"Turnabout's fair play, I suppose," he grunts, his eyes narrowing dangerously. It's clear he didn't anticipate this side of me, but there's also a spark of excitement in his gaze.
Before our game can escalate further, Professor Harlow announces an open debate on the topic at hand, and I reluctantly release Alec.
"Regarding the issue of income inequality in education," I begin, raising my hand, "it's essential to address not just the financial barriers faced by lower-income students but also the cultural and social factors contributing to this disparity."
As much as I was enjoying every second of having my hand wrapped around Alec’s dick, I did come to this class to learn. As I argue my point, my focus shifts from Alec to the subject matter. This is my territory, after all – a place where my intellect and determination shine. I notice several classmates nodding along, while others scribble down notes.
Alec looks like he’s listening intently, but I don’t miss it when he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, requiring some rearranging. I feel way too damn smug that I’m the reason for his discomfort.
"An interesting perspective, Salem," Alec says smoothly though, meeting my gaze with a challenging smirk. "However, it's also important to consider the role personal responsibility plays in one's success. Wealthy or not, an individual's drive and ambition can propel them to great heights."
I think he’s trying to compliment me. But his words are ever laced with barbs. "You're right, Alec. Personal responsibility is a factor," I concede. "But let's not pretend that everyone has the same starting point. Some people have had everything handed to them on a silver platter. While the rest of us had to scrounge for even a fork."
"I’d be happy to let you borrow my utensils, they’re the perfect fit," he shoots back, his expression turning positively evil.
Oh, he’s bad.
"That’s enough of you two," Professor Harlow interrupts with a growl before this can go farther. "Let's remember to keep things civil and focused on the topic at hand."
But our poor professor has no idea what Alec was really referring to.
His dick.
Which was in my hand, in his classroom, just a few moments ago.
I blush hard, and sit back in my seat, as if I didn’t just do something so completely out of character.
That night as I get ready to leave my dorm room, a notification dings from my phone. New post by Vice. Without even seeing the content, my face blushes. My fingers shake as I tap on the notification.
Fuck.
It’s a simple video. Alec stands there, shirtless, facing away from the camera. He’s looking out a window, one arm bent as he leans against the frame. I can only see half his masked face, but even this view has my heart racing. The camera does a slow zoom in, and the music is perfectly matched to the moody vibe he has going on.
The caption reads, “Waiting for you.”
Oh shit.
I don’t know how to take that other than as a direct nod to me. Considering I’m supposed to be arriving any minute now at his apartment.
Already, there are twenty comments just in the first sixty seconds of the posting.
Be right there.
Does Vice have a girlfriend?
Heart broken.
Be ready when I arrive, big boy.
These comments are wild. And I blush when I accept the fact that it was written for me, and all these other people are losing their damn minds.
With a smug smile, I walk out my door, and turn toward Alec, Vice’s, apartment.
Ten minutes later, I raise my fist to knock on the door, but before I even make contact, it’s yanked open. Alec meets me with hungry, serious eyes that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Get in here,” he says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me inside. As soon as the door clicks shut behind me, he cups my face in his hands and pulls me toward him, his lips finding the sensitive skin of my neck.
"Tell me what you want tonight," he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot and enticing.