Their Straight-A Student (3 page)

Afterward, she lay under her ex-boyfriends, almost faint and shaking. They carefully dressed her, rubbing her sore muscles and kissing her shoulders softly. Truthfully, they were so nice to her that she was half-afraid that she'd wake up in the morning and find out it was all a dream.

Thankfully, with their seed dripping out of her and the holes in her bra and panties, she had evidence that it was real. And the pictures, too. She was going to
love
looking at those. 

"So, is that what you meant in your letter?" Clayton asked her, kissing her throat with a returned gentleness that only now seemed appropriate.

"Yeah," she said, pleased to her very core that he'd read it and actually decided to do something about it. Grateful that it was everything she could have asked for, and more. She hadn't even thought to involve another man, but being double-penetrated had given her the best orgasm of her life.

"You want some help studying now?" Clayton asked, chuckling a little bit.

Melanie was exhausted, but too happy to do anything but sass him. "Only if you can handle me getting a higher score than you on the test."

Clayton raised a brow, as if daring her to try. But Brad chuckled, "She doesn't just want to be our slut—she wants to be our Straight-A Student."

Melanie's body still throbbed with a deep and abiding gratification that made her leer lustfully at her ex-boyfriends. "I do. And I really want to get back together…with both of you."

DEAR READERS

Thank you for reading
Their Straight-A Student
!
 

FREE BOOK OFFER: I hope you enjoyed this story and if you did, please help other readers by writing an honest review and publishing it on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads, and other sites frequented by readers like you. I will give you a free book of your choice from my backlist if you email me a link to your review at:
[email protected]

DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story engage in some risky behavior and make some questionable decisions; it should go without saying that this behavior is not to be encouraged in real life. But that's the beauty of fiction; they can do this, and we can enjoy thinking about them doing it, without anyone getting hurt. 

In the meantime, please enjoy the following excerpt from
Stranger Danger!

EXCERPT

STRANGER DANGER

Laurel Adams

~~~

Semen seeped into the crotch of my panties as I closed my eyes and tried to sleep on the midnight bus back to college. On that dark and chilly fall morning, my wetness was my naughty secret, a reminder of my marathon orgasm session with my boyfriend and our mad-dash fucking session before leaving to catch the last bus out. It'd been risky. I'd just barely pulled my jeans on when my parents came upstairs to help me with my bags.

But I loved risky sex. Going down on him in a movie theatre. Sexting in the middle of class. It made my boyfriend nervous, but I couldn't help myself. He was my high school sweetheart—a really nice guy—and I really tried to be a nice girl.

But it took effort. 

As the nearly empty bus rumbled out of town, I could still feel my boyfriend's hands on me. I tried to ignore the buzz of arousal, but my mind kept replaying pictures in my head. Sex on the floor. Sex over the bathroom counter. Sex with me on top. Sex fully clothed, my jeans barely pulled down. The more the memories flickered in my mind the more intense the fluttering between my legs. 

I wanted to come again. Needed to.

Biting my lower lip, I looked around me. The bus was quiet; I was one of only a handful of passengers and none of them were seated near me. The only ones I could see were sleeping. It seemed safe enough to bring myself off. 

I knew what I was about to do was lewd, risky and highly inappropriate, but, that only made me want it more. With my wool coat draped over me, I carefully unbuttoned my jeans and slid my hand into my panties. I was so hot and sticky that I let out a soft hiss of relief at my own touch—too soft to be heard, I hoped. My clit was engorged and slippery, and I shifted in my seat to allow my hand more room. I smeared the slickness of my boyfriend's cum all over my pussy lips and let my fingers circle and pinch at the hood. 

I was close, so close. Just a little bit more and I'd go over the edge.

It felt so good that when the bus pulled into the next station, I didn't stop. I felt the lurch of the brakes, but didn't stop. Heard the hiss of the door, and stifled a moan. It wasn't until a shadow fell across my seat that I grew still. 

Fuck. A new passenger had gotten on the bus. Peeking through my lowered eyelashes, I could see that it was a man, older than I was. He had a backpack and a philosophy book in one hand. And though there were plenty of empty seats the bastard just had to take the seat across the aisle from me. 

He'd ruined my naughty adventure. I hated him. And his stupid philosophy book, too.

He threw his bag into the seat, took off a pair of black rimmed glasses, then closed his eyes. He wasn't bad looking for a killjoy and an older guy. You just think so because you're horny. And I was impossibly horny.

I'd been so close to coming that every part of me was throbbing with need. The temptation to finger myself was more than I could stand. I was eighteen—that age you think you can get away with everything—and once the bus was on the road again, quiet and dark, I decided to risk it. 

I admit, there was an added thrill to my fingers trailing lazy circles over my clit with a stranger so close. But hidden by my coat and rubbing ever so slowly, I began to relax into the knowledge I was going to get away with it. The stranger across the aisle would never know. It would be my filthy little secret. And I was loving every moment. It felt so good, and yet, it was torture. My pulse was quickening, and I tried to steady my breathing. But with only the slightest of movements on my part, I might hover here in arousal indefinitely.

Then the stranger's eyes opened, and in the shadows, he looked over my way. My heart stopped. I saw him through half-lidded eyes, and I thought his gaze lingered just a moment too long. I grew perfectly still, and pretended to be asleep. I listened to the whir of the wheels of the bus, the coughs of an old man from the back, and the cries of a baby from somewhere toward the front of the bus while we traveled. 

Finally, he looked away.

We were on the highway now, and the streetlights flashed by at regular intervals. I still wanted desperately to come, and that was evidenced by the fact that my slickness, combined with my boyfriend's semen, had now soaked through my jeans, leaving a wet spot between my legs. It made me desperate. 

Maybe it was this desperation that clouded my already shaky judgment.

I started rubbing faster, harder, needing more intense contact. I could hear my heartbeat racing, but I was purposefully keeping my breathing steady, or trying to. The bus was now abnormally quiet, and though a light mist of perspiration dotted the back of my neck under the strain of trying to come so perfectly still and quiet. I was close, oh, so close again. 

But so was the stranger. I don't know what made me open my eyes. But when I did, the stranger was staring right at me through the semi-darkness. I froze. I casually closed my eyes again for a moment or two, and then opened them just in case it had been a mistake. 

It wasn't. 

He had the most intense stare I'd ever seen. Not vacant. No, it spoke volumes. 

He knew I was masturbating.

I was caught!

And before I could even turn away, he was out of his seat and slid into the one next to me. I actually yelped with surprise, not knowing what he was going to do. I made all the blatantly prejudiced evaluations one makes about strangers in times of crisis. I came up with the fact that he was a clean cut guy who read philosophy books, so I didn't think he would attack me. Instead of screaming, I just froze in shock and embarrassment.

"Don't stop." His voice was rich and urgent in my ear even as the waft of warm breath from his whisper caressed my neck. He smelled of some sort of clean cologne and his manly cheek pressed against mine.

My heart was in my throat, and I was so embarrassed I thought I could just shrink up and die in that seat. A lump rose in my throat. The pain of embarrassment was palpable, and I felt tears well up to sting my eyes. "Leave me alone!" The vehemence in my whisper should have driven him away. And for a moment—just for a moment—he looked like he might apologize for scaring me and return to his seat. 

But then something seemed to snap in him. He grabbed my left hand, the one that wasn't inside my panties hidden beneath my coat, and gripped it so tightly that I yelped with pain.

Then he silenced my yelp by putting a finger over my lips.

Now I was more than embarrassed; I was afraid. Desperately afraid. I was terrified. I violently tried to yank my hand back from his, but impossibly—he kissed it. "Don't fight me."

Read the Rest Now!

LAUREL ADAMS
writes hot, dark, sexually transgressive tales. With her bite-sized serial stories, she likes to push boundaries and leave her readers tingling and titillated.

ALSO BY LAUREL ADAMS

CLAIMED BY THE CROWN PRINCE

Prince Bashir is rich, good-looking, and has a penchant for luring young American women into his harem...

As a newly-hired photographer for an international gossip rag, Nicole bets she can make a fortune off any pictures she takes of Prince Bashir, who is he fascination of the western media. But when Nicole's friend falls under the spell of the party boy prince, Nicole warns against becoming his plaything. Her friend goes off to the tiny island nation anyway and stops sending letters home. Worried that something terrible has happened, Nicole sets out on a mission to save her friend only to be claimed by the prince himself!

Claimed by the Crown Prince

BLACKMAILED BY THE BOSS

When her billionaire boss gets ahold of embarrassing pictures of Maggie, she worries that her career is over. But when he convinces her that playing the office slut is a game she can win, Maggie revels in her humiliation and all the punishment he wants to dish out. But when her jealous boyfriend comes up with a plan for revenge, Maggie is caught between a very sexy rock and hard place.

Blackmailed by the Boss (Part 1)

Blackmailed by the Boss (Part 2)

Blackmailed by the Boss (Part 3)

Blackmailed by the Boss (Bundle 1-3)

BORROWED BY THE BILLIONAIRE