Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
“Yeah, you did.”
13
Kempton
It’s nearly four in the morning by the time I’m gingerly sliding the window open to sneak back inside the dorm room. And I’m exhausted. Utterly, utterly exhausted in the most amazing way possible. And sore, and starving, but oh my fucking God was that the most incredible night of my life.
We ended up staying on the couch another hour—first me sinking to my knees in front of them and taking turns sucking both of them into my mouth. And then, of course, I had to take turns riding both of them. You know, for comparisons sake. For science, if you will. After that, we were in Porter’s master shower—me clinging to the glass walls somehow as the two of them on their knees in front and in back of me, making me almost pass out from pleasure as they tongued my pussy and my ass until I moaned for more.
In Porter’s bed after that, it was a repeat of the couch, with me on my hands and knees getting fucked from both ends, completely losing track of how many orgasms I had as my two gorgeous guys took turns switching back and forth, until finally, we collapsed for the final time. Both Beck and Porter wanted me to stay the night, but I knew I had to get back at some point. And so here I am, the sky at that final hour of darkness before dawn as I clamor into my room.
I hear a grumble as Ana wakes, and I wince as she opens her eyes and glares at me.
“What time is it?”
“Uh, early, go back to sleep.”
She frowns. “Early?”
“I mean late.”
Her frown starts to turn into a grin as she lifts her head from her pillow and glances at her phone.
“Holy shit, Kemp, it’s four in the morning!”
“Yeah, I…” I blush wildly, and I know even with the second shower before I left, I look like I just got fucked.
Ana picks up on it too. “Well well well!” She grins widely. “Looks like Beckett Truman kept you pretty busy,” she giggles.
Yeah, him and his adopted brother ten years older than me who’s also my professor.
I decide I’m not even remotely ready to share that particularly salacious detail of my sex life with her quite yet.
“Look, can we talk about it tomorrow morning?”
“It is tomorrow morning.”
I roll my eyes as I sink onto my bed, clothes and all.
“Yeah, well, sleep firs—”
There’s a pounding on the door, making us both gasp and bolt upright in our beds.
“Who the hell is that?” Ana whispers.
The pounding comes again, and this time, with a voice that makes my stomach drop.
“Ms. Carlisle and Ms. Penworth!”
I recognize the voice as that of Mrs. Stillwell, the resident chaperone of Marshall Hall, and when I look at Ana, she whitens.
“Oh shit,” she hisses. “Do you think someone saw you—”
“Ladies!” Mrs. Stillwell snaps. “Open this door right now!”
I swallow as I slide from the bed, standing and padding nervously to the door. When I open it, I’m greeted by Mrs. Stillwell and two campus safety police, and my heart jumps into my throat.
“Can I help you, Mrs. Still—”
“Uh-uh,” she mutters, looking more scowly than she even usually does. “Don’t be cute, Ms. Carlisle. You were seen just now.”
“Excuse me?” I trip out.
“Sneaking up the lattice outside, and then climbing into your dorm window.”
My face goes white, and she smiles thinly.
“A bit after curfew, isn’t it, Kempton?” she says icily.
“Oh, Kempton was just out for a run,” Ana throws in. It’s a weak last-minute excuse, but I know she’s trying to help.
“And aren’t we on the other side of curfew anywa—”
“At five, yes,” Mrs. Stillwell mutters before she turns back to me, her brows arched and a harsh, thin smile on her lips.
“I think you might need to get better running attire, Kempton.”
I swallow, glancing down at my flip-flips, skirt, and tank top.
“Or better lies,” she adds brusquely, shooting Ana a witheringly look.
“In any case, you need to report to Principal Kane’s office, with me, tomorrow at noon. Sharp,” she hisses, giving me one last once-over before she and the two security officers turn and march off. I close the door and slump against it.
Shit.
* * *
“Godamnit, Kempton!”
I wince at the sound of my dad’s voice through the speaker, his face twice as large on the big screen TV up on the wall of the conference room. I’m sitting alone on one side of the table, with Principal Kane, and the new Vice Principal, Mrs. Owens. Natasha Owens used to be our head of admissions, but a few weeks ago when our previous Vice Principal, Ms. Lyne was fired and arrested on fraud and embezzlement charges, Mrs. Owens was moved up.
All-in-all, it’s not a terrible line-up to be facing. I mean, Principal Kane is a little tough, but very easy on the eyes. And Mrs. Owens I at least somewhat know through her daughter Waverly, who’s on the swim team. Next to her is Chief Wallace, our head of campus safety, who’s the least threatening looking man to ever wear a badge, and old Mr. Roberts, the dean of student affairs.