Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“Mmph.” Dev couldn’t form words. He blinked at Ewan stupidly, surprised his glasses weren’t steamed up.
Ewan curled his free hand around the nape of Dev’s neck and tugged him down for one last kiss. Soft and gentle now, and Dev felt the sweetness of it in his chest like a burst of warmth.
After they’d cleaned themselves up and put their dicks away, Ewan packed up his books. “So, uh, I guess I’d better go.” He stood by the desk with his bag in his hand.
Disappointment stabbed at Dev. But what had he expected? Cuddling? That wasn’t on the list of things to practice. He found himself wishing it was. “Okay.” He shrugged.
Ewan stared at him intently, but Dev wasn’t sure what he was looking for.
“Thank you,” Dev said. It came out sounding inappropriately formal, and his voice was tight in his throat. For all the reading about social interaction Dev had done, he’d never found a guide for how to behave after a sex lesson. “That was very….” He scrabbled around for a word to complete the phrase. Maybe he should have stopped at “thank you.”
“Educational?” Ewan’s lips curved and his eyes were bright with mischief. “Informative…?” His grin turned dirty. “Hot?”
Dev grinned too. Ewan had a magical ability to put him at ease. He’d never known anyone quite like him before. “All of the above.”
“I should have made an evaluation form for you to fill in at the end of each session.”
Dev could tell from his tone that Ewan was still joking. “Yes. And I could make you one for the maths lessons.”
“That was also awesome, by the way. I forgot to say earlier because I got distracted by the orgasms… but you’re a good teacher. Thank you.”
“So are you.” Dev flushed, remembering Ewan’s instructions earlier.
“Next week, then?” Ewan asked. “Blow jobs 101?” Dev nodded, not trusting his voice to come out as anything other than a hoarse squeak. “Friday night?”
Dev managed to speak that time. “Yeah, probably. I’ll text you to confirm.”
“Okay.”
Dev followed Ewan down the stairs, feeling like he ought to see him out. They paused at the front door.
“Bye, then,” Ewan said.
Dev pushed his hair out of his eyes to give him something to do with his hands, which unaccountably itched to touch Ewan again. “Bye, thanks again.”
Ewan gave Dev one of his hundred-watt grins. “It really was my pleasure.” And then he opened the door and went.
Dev closed it behind him with a quiet click. Standing in the hall, his body still buzzing and his mind whirling with everything that had happened, a sound drifted in from the living room—Mac and Jez playing Mario Kart, judging by the sound of the music.
Needing a distraction from the thoughts crowding his head, Dev went to join them. “Hi, can I play?”
“Sure, after this race,” Jez replied without taking his gaze off the screen.
“Did you have a good evening studying with Ewan?” Mac asked.
“Yes,” Dev said, glad they weren’t looking at him. Because he couldn’t have stopped the smile that spread over his face if he’d tried. “It was very good, thanks.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Although Dev was often at the edges of Ewan’s thoughts during the next week, Ewan didn’t have to time to do more than fantasise about him when he jerked off in the shower or in bed late at night.
He kept a lookout for Dev when leaving the house or arriving back, hoping he might run into him in the street, but their schedules didn’t match and there was no sign of him. Though Ewan did see Mac a couple of times, who greeted him with a friendly grin. Once he saw Mac with the blond guy who also lived next door, walking down the road hand in hand. The sight of them together hit Ewan with an unexpected lurch of envy. For the past year or so, he hadn’t missed being in a relationship at all, happy enough with the freedom of casual sex and no-strings hook-ups. So why was he suddenly looking at Mac and that other guy and wishing he had a boyfriend again?
Ewan had an essay deadline on Friday and had to stay up late on Thursday to get it finished. Of course, then he was so knackered he slept through his alarm, woke at ten, and missed a class with the tutor the essay was meant for. He ran all the way to campus, arriving sweaty and apologetic at her office.
“I’m really sorry, Dr Jeffreys,” he panted, holding out the printed essay. “I finished it, but I didn’t make your class this morning.” He winced. She was pretty strict about attendance.
To his surprise, she frowned sympathetically. “You look rough, do you have a temperature?”
“Um—” He mopped at the sweat on his brow; his face was probably flushed from running. “—I’m not sure. Maybe?”