Chapter 7

• Xavier
• Xavier barely made it to his bed before he shoved his hand down the front of his jeans and gripped his cock.
• Fuck.
• He pumped his hand over his shaft, his skin sliding over the copious amounts of precum. He had always been a leaker, and it was handy when he didn’t want to stop and use lube or lotion.
• He flopped onto his bed, closing his eyes as he played back the scene in the hallway.
• He had come home pissed off and hungover, and having Emma grill him as soon as he walked in the door had soured his already bad mood. He had tried to ignore how Emma's damp skin glistened in the light. How her wet hair dripped little droplets between her cleavage, which were barely covered with a light dusting of freckles that her dick liked way too much. He wanted to cover them with him cum
• Or the fact that Emma was shirtless and standing there in only a pair of loose basketball shorts, her too-pretty face twisted up in anger. Angry Emma was hot as fuck. Then Emma had punched him.
• Or at least tried to.
• Something inside Xavier had snapped. He blamed his hungover and sleep-deprived state of mind for why he had pinned Emma against the wall.
• Emma had pissed him off, and he had wanted to scare het. But Emma hadn’t been scared. He had been turned on.
• Feeling Emma's hard nipples, seeing her eyes shutter with desire, hearing her breathy little moans as Xavier had pressed his body against her, held her against the wall, had sent his sex-starved brain into a tailspin.
• Emma hadn’t even tried to shake him off. She had just stood there and let Xavier manhandle her and use her. Xavier breathed out and bit his lip, stifling his moan as he stroked himself faster.
• He had let Emma think that what they had done had no effect on him, but the truth was, he had been about five seconds away from blowing his load when Emma had come against him.
• Hearing it, feeling it, knowing that he had gotten Emma off, had nearly sent him over the edge, but he had managed to keep control and step away.
• He wasn't about to let Julian know just how much that had affected him. How much Julian had affected him.
• Xavier clenched his free hand into a fist and shoved it into his mouth to muffle his moans as he stroked faster, harder. His body tightened, white-hot pleasure coiling deep in his abdomen. The edges of his orgasm sliced closer, creeping up his cock and tightening his balls.
• A vision of Emma's blissed-out face, her heaving chest and shaking body as she had slumped against the wall flashed in Xavier’s mind, and he was done.
• He came hard, shooting over his hand as his orgasm ripped through him. His breaths were fast, choppy, and hard, his chest burning from the effort of keeping quiet as he rode the waves of pleasure. He stroked slower, prolonging the orgasm for as long as he could.
• “Fuck,” Xavier whispered, still holding his spent dick.
• Fucking with Emma was fun, but this was a dangerous game.
• The smart thing would be for Xavier to forget this ever happened and go back to pissing Emma off like he always had.
• Too bad he’d never done the smart thing.
• ****
• “We need to make a schedule for the van,” Emma said, sitting next to Xavier on the loveseat, a determined look on her too-pretty face.
• Xavier ignored her, his eyes focused on the phone screen, not even seeing the Insta posts he was scrolling through.
• “You’re on your phone,” Emma persisted.
• “Exactly. I’m busy,” Xavier replied.
• “We need to talk about this.”
• “No, we don’t.”
• “Yes, we do.” Emma let out a frustrated huff and waved her hand in front of Xavier’s phone. “Focus, asshat.”
• Xavier looked up at Emma, unable to stop his smirk. Emma was clearly pissed, her cheeks pink and her eyes blazing with anger.
• “What’s your schedule like?” Emma asked.
• “I have classes.” Xavier turned his attention back to his phone.
• “Fuck you, Xavier,” Emma punched him in the shoulder.
• Xavier reminded her, “Remember the last time you punched me? What ended up happening?”
• Emma drew in a quick breath.
• “Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish.”
• “That was a mistake,” Emma said as she glared Xavier.
• “Sure it was,” Xavier retorted.
• “I hate you so much.”
• “Likewise,” Xavier replied, looking up at Emma. “Here’s how it’s going to work with the van. You can come to school with me in the mornings. Then I’ll drive you home when my classes are over. Since you’re a loser with no friends, it doesn’t make sense for you to have the van. You’ll work around my schedule, or you’ll walk.”
• “That’s not fair.”
• “Seems fair to me.”
• “I don’t even know your schedule. What if my classes start first or end later?”
• “That sounds like a you problem.”
• “I hate you so much.”
• Xavier didn’t bother answering; he just pretended to focus on his phone.
• “I’m the one with the keys,” Emma said smugly. “What if I just didn’t give them back to you? What would you do then?”
• “Are you sure about that?” Xavier asked.
• “Sure about what?” Emma inquired.
• Xavier glanced up. “That you have the keys,” he said.
• “Of course I do,” Emma replied, blinking in confusion.
• “You might want to check your duffle bag.”