55. Too Horny to Function

I was horny. Too fucking horny to even function.

“Why don’t we just skip our last class today and have some fun?” I asked Carter, Harwood Academy’s star quarterback. I wrapped my arms around his abdomen, slipped my hands underneath his shirt, and brushed my fingers against the thick muscle underneath it.

Carter opened his locker and shoved in two textbooks next to the football and smelly practice clothes that he always kept in there.

I pressed my nose to his neck, inhaling the Azzaro Wanted cologne I bought him for his birthday last year, and sighed. “Come on, Carter.”

“You know that I’d love to, but if I miss another class, Coach will sit me out next game.”

I placed a lingering kiss just below his earlobe—right where he liked it—and slid my hand underneath his jean buckle, then wrapped my fingers around his hardness. When I began stroking it slowly, he took a deep, shaky breath.

“Are you sure about that?” I murmured.

I had wanted him to take me all day, had been daydreaming about th