OBSESSED Series

Chapter 22

“Yeah. It turns out…I fucking live to make you proud of me. So…” He blows out a shaky breath, then puts his attention back on the textbook. “So I’m not just going to pass, I’m going to get an A. And then I’m going to win the championship, just so I can lay it all at your feet.”

“It’s not just for me. He’d be proud, too. And you can be proud of yourself.”

He drops the pencil in his hand and stands, coming toward me, intense as ever. “I know. And I am. But I never would have considered any of that if you didn’t come into my life, so I’m doing it all for you, Stella.” He cradles my face in his hands, the gentle touch at odds with his determination. “Your man is going to give you the world.”

Our mouths gravitate toward each other, and we both grow winded on the spot, our bodies pressing, grinding briefly, before we both pull away. Aching.

“Goddammit,” he growls through his teeth, slamming a fist into the wall. “I…angel, it’s going to be hard for me to be gentle today. I know I said I would, but fuck. Fuck. These last two days have me at the end of my rope.”

“However, it is between us, it’ll be right,” I say, brushing our fingers together. “You’ll make it right.”

Gage nods, swallowing, seemingly fascinated by the way our fingers touch. “Get ready to go, huh? I want to be there early. I want you to wait outside the test room, where I can see you.” He reaches down and grips his manhood through his jeans. “And honey, I want you thinking about this fat dick, so you’re nice and wet when they’re done grading the test. No more foreplay. We’ve been doing that for days.” Hot eyes tick up to mine. “Outside the classroom, wet and waiting. Understood?”

“Yes, Gage,” I whisper, because whether it’s right or wrong, I love the way he commands me. It’s not done in the name of keeping me under his thumb. No. He commands me in ways that keep me close, keep me safe, because I think if he didn’t have those two assurances, he might lose his mind. And I’m getting to his level, too. I’ve become his identical counterpart, yearning for him when he’s at practice or even just in the shower. We reunite like long-lost lovers afterward, hands stroking and getting reacquainted, syncing our breaths once again. I miss him when he’s standing right in front of me.

He advances on me slowly now, turning me toward the bedroom, lifting up the borrowed jersey and slapping my bottom. “Wear something I can take off easily.”

I’m not the only one waiting outside of the test room.

Half the school is here in red and gold, our official colors. Some people even have their faces painted or hold signs with encouraging messages for Gage. When it was just the two of us studying, the pressure to help him pass was more than enough, but this? So much is on the line. If Gage doesn’t pass, he won’t play in the championship and we will lose. It’s a given.

No. He’s going to pass. Not only that, he’s going to get an A.

He worked so hard and he’s a lot smarter than he gives himself credit for.

Remembering his directions to me before we left the apartment, I close my eyes and recall him beneath me last night, the way he rode me on his bucking hips, sweat dripping off his abs, jaw clenched tight, shuddering, trying not to come. How he groaned my name so brokenly. How he threw himself off the bed and took a cold shower while I lay panting, my underwear clinging to my skin. It’s almost over. The waiting is almost—

My thoughts burst like a bubble when I hear a door creak. Slam.

My eyes fly open. The mass of students is deadly silent as Gage walks out, backpack slung over one shoulder, a backwards hat on his head. He’s holding a paper in his hand, but I can’t read his expression. Oh God, he’s not smiling. What happened?

He’s focused on me, jaw set.