Follow the River

Johnston nods. “See it doesn’t happen again.”

When the good ole professor turns his back and starts writing on the board again, I snap my gaze back to Ciaráin.

“Díul mó bhad,” he hisses under his breath before rolling his eyes, turning his attention back to class.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He smirks, not looking at me still. “Suck my dick. Though it’s probably a poor choice of words on my part seeing as that’s most likely exactly what you’re wanting to do with my cock.” He pauses, eyes meeting mine in contempt. “And then some.”

That’s fucking it.

Slipping my shit into my bag, I toss it over my shoulder and grab him by the arm. I yank him out of his seat, creating a ruckus sure to piss Johnston the fuck off and get me sent back into my old class I’ll probably end up flunking.

But I don’t care. I’m over it.

Ciaráin looks at me like I’m insane, and let’s be real, right now, I feel it. I don’t give him a second to protest or sit down though, I just grab his bag with my free hand and pull him out of the lecture hall, the door slamming closed behind us.

Dragging Ciaráin with me, I glance through the window of a classroom down the hall to find it empty and quickly move us in there. Away from prying eyes and ears.

“What the shit, River?” he roars, wasting no time to light into me the second the door closes. I toss his bag on a desk and cross my arms over my chest, leaning against the door providing his only means of escape.

We’re having this shit out, here and now. I don’t care how long it takes.

“You told me to suck your dick. I got us a private place to make it happen,” I shrug, baiting him. “Go ahead, baby. Whip it out for me. I’d love to see how many inches I’ve got to work with.”

His nostrils flare as a look of disgust crosses his face. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Aw, don’t be shy, Rain.” I give him a patronizing smile, catching the way his jaw ticks when I use the nickname he hates. For what reason, I couldn’t care less..

Whatever. It’s only more ammunition at the end of the day.

“I don’t care if you’re small,” I continue, tapping my fingers against my bicep. “I get that you could be self-conscious and all. Despite what the girls might say, having a small dick is a big deal. But not in this case, baby. It just means less for me to take deep into my throat.”

I watch in pure satisfaction as the vein near his temple throbs in rage at the shit I’m spewing, knowing it’s more than likely a bunch of bullshit. And when I glance down at his cock to drive my point home, I’m stu

I’ve never been happier to be wrong in my life in regards to his…size.

I raise my brow. “I stand corrected. Looks like you’ve got quite a bit packing. Even better.”

He scoffs. “Really, River? Which one is it? Dick size matters or it doesn’t? You’d think as some sort of fucking faggot that you’d care how big a cock is while it’s filling your ass.”

There it is again. That fucking word.

Faggot.

It doesn’t matter how many times I hear it, it doesn’t make it any easier to allow it to slide off my shoulders.

“Whoever said I’m the one getting fucked?” I quirk a brow in challenge.

“There’s no way you haven’t, seeing as you’re a goddamn queer. And they tend to take it up the ass.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head, so fed up with this shit. We’re getting absolutely nowhere, only ru

Giving myself a second to breath, I sigh. “You do realize I’m bisexual, right?”

He lifts a brow in amusement, an arrogant smirk decorating his face. “Your point?”

My jaw ticks in irritation. “Meaning that labeling me as queer and faggot is not only derogatory, but also incorrect. Bisexual doesn’t even define me. I don’t do labels. I fuck whoever I want to fuck, whenever and when it suits me, wherever I want. Guys and girls too.”

Ciaráin nods a few times, “Ah well that might be true in technicality. But, Le

“I don’t see how my topping or bottoming is any of your fucking business,” I snap, evading the question because it is none of his damn business.

He has no right to know the answer to his question is yes. It’s rare, seeing as I prefer to top my partner, regardless of gender. But every once in a while, I willingly seek out getting fucked.

Sue me.

But then my brows furrow momentarily as I continue to process his question. And realization dawns on me.

The question isn’t if I do it or not…it’s why he wants to know.

A slow grin slides over my mouth. The opening is there, and you can bet your ass—pun most definitely intended—I’m going to take it. “Though, seeing as you asked, yes Grady. I take it as well as I give it when it comes to dick. And I wasn’t kidding when I offered to let you take the merchandise for a spin.” I’m in his face before I can stop myself, looking him up and down. I want to devour him in every sense of the word. “I have to say, you aren’t my usual type. But at least if you fuck me from behind I won’t have to look at your fucking face.”

His hand shoots out, clamping around my throat as he forces me to step back until I hit the wall.

“The fuck you just say to me?” he snarls, squeezing my windpipe.

I suck in as deep of a breath as his hand will allow, knowing my sudden loss of oxygen isn’t only from his vice grip on my trachea. It’s him touching me.

It’s electric. Especially when we’re like this.

Volatile and angry.

It’s a shock of adrenaline straight into my blood, like fucking heroin.

I grip his wrist with my hand, eating up the way the skin feels beneath my palm, and tug enough to be able to speak. “You heard me.”

Ciaráin sneers before spitting his words out. “You need to learn how to shut your fucking mouth before I break your damn jaw so it has to be wired shut.”

“Now why would I do that when I know how much you hate it when I don’t listen?”

His body crowds me, pressing tighter against my throat until I can barely make the tiniest gasp. I can barely make a conscious thought except he might actually kill me when it happens.

I feel it.

Him.

Hard against my leg. Waiting for me to drop to my knees and take him in my mouth.

My free hand moves of its own accord, coming between us to lightly trail a single finger down the length of his erection. The action causes him to freeze, loosening his grip around my throat to practically nonexistence.

I gulp down oxygen, taking a moment to look at him and the fury in his eyes tells me he had no intention of stopping until I just made him.

But still, the fucking asshole I am, I pop those dimples with a smile an add a second finger to my caress of his cock, hard as steel behind the cotton of his sweats.

Hard for me.

“Does my defiance turn you on, baby?”

He cocks his head and glances between my eyes, his own narrowed and calculating as I continue to taunt him with my fingers.

After a moment, he steps back, shaking his head. “Nah, my hand around your throat does. Knowing all I have to do is snap your damn neck to shut you up for good.” He adjusts himself quickly, turning his back on me to grab his bag on the table.