Chapter 62 – Pretending You Are Mine Novel

“The c**kiness is actually making me dryer by the second.”

“Can we not?” Ross asks as he sips his coffee. “I don’t want to think about your w*t nether regions.”

“I sure as hell do,” Silas says.

I point at him. “That’s exactly what not to do. No comments like that. Just sit there and be quiet.”

The professor walks in before I can shoot off any more warnings to Silas. Class starts, I prep my notes with a header, and just as the professor starts talking, a text message pops up on my computer.

Silas: You look really pretty.

I glance over at him, and he points to the front of the class and whispers, “Pay attention.”

I roll my eyes and focus up front even though I can smell his addicting cologne waft toward me every time he shifts.

I start typing something the professor said when another text pops up on my screen.

Silas: That sweatshirt looks hot on you too.

My nostrils flare, and when I glance in his direction, he points at the front again.

He’s in so much trouble.

So instead of turning toward him, I type him back.

Ollie: What happened to no distractions?

Silas: Can’t a guy tell his girlfriend he thinks she’s pretty?

Ollie: Not when she’s trying to pay attention in class. This might be how you acted when you were in school back in the day, but not me.

Silas: Using the term “back in the day” will get you spanked, and you text me all the time from class, so don’t try to be Miss Studious just because I’m here.

Ollie: Threatening me with a spanking? Oh no, I’m shivering in my boots.

Silas: I can taste your sarcasm it’s so heavy.

Ollie: Do you really think a spanking is a punishment? You know I only get w*tter when you slap my ass.

Silas: Fine . . . then your punishment will be no fellatio.

Ollie: Ew, don’t use the term fellatio. God, Grandpa.

Silas: I’m surprised you even knew what that was. Fine, no s**king my c**k.

Ollie: That’s fine. I can handle that.

Silas: Liar. You’re itching to blow me right now.

Ollie: You’re vulgar.

Silas: LOL. Says the girl who tells me to fill her with my cum every goddamn time we’re together.

Ollie: That’s not vulgar. That’s just an honest request.

Silas: I love how you’re able to run circles around the truth. Truly inspiring.

Ollie: I’m studying to be a journalist after all. We have to run around the truth a bit.

Silas: Studying to be a journalist? Seems more like you’re occupied with texting your extremely hot boyfriend.

Ollie: Yes, my extremely hot boyfriend who is thirty-one and sitting in a college class because he’s so attached to me that he can’t spare a moment without smelling my pheromones.

Silas: Is that what the oniony smell is?

I gasp and poke him in the side, causing him to laugh, drawing some attention from the students around us. Silas adjusts his glasses and sinks lower into his chair.

I see him type away on his phone, and I try to pay attention to what the professor is saying, but it’s no use as another text from him pops up.

Silas: You’re going to get yourself thrown out of class. Is that the goal?

Ollie: The goal is to pay attention, but you’re distracting me.

Silas: It’s because I like you, and I think you’re cute.

Ollie: We would never have been able to be in class together if we were the same age.

Silas: We wouldn’t even be talking to each other if we were the same age.

Ollie: Why do you say that?

Silas: I was a dweeb in college. Didn’t have dick piercings, which I know is a huge plus for you. Barely had any tattoos, and my head was shaved.

Ollie: Oh my God, I need to see pictures.

Silas: Maybe one day if you’re lucky. But you must earn the opportunity.

Ollie: s**king your dick every night hasn’t earned me that opportunity?

Silas: It’s brought you closer. These are sacred pictures. But back to us knowing each other in college. I would never have gone for it because I was with Sarah. I never would have even talked to you.

Ollie: What if you came to college single? Then what? Would you have talked to me?

Silas: Still no. You would have been placed in the too pretty catalog.

Ollie: Now you’re just being ridiculous.

Silas: I’m not. It’s the truth. You’re gorgeous, Ollie. I would have been intimidated.

Ollie: Nope, not falling for it. I’m not reaching over and holding your hand because you’re being all cute and telling the truth. Nice try, fella.

Silas: Wasn’t looking for a handhold . . . but it would have been nice. I like holding your hand, makes me feel at home.

“Oh my God,” I mutter right before I rest my hand on his th**h. From the corner of my eye, I see his grin stretch from ear to ear. His hand encapsulates mine, and he gives it a good squeeze.

For the rest of class, he sits there, holding my hand while I take one-handed notes on my computer.

And honestly, I’m not even mad about it.

* * *

“Did you search this place out?” I ask Silas as we sit at a small, hole-in-the-wall deli where we ordered pastrami sandwiches.

“I might have looked up delis near your campus. Being the sandwich lover you are, I assumed you already knew about this place.”

“I don’t, and I feel embarrassed about it.”

“You should,” he says as he unfolds his sandwich. It smells amazing.

I lift the pickle that comes with the sandwich and take a bite. As I chew, I lightly m**n. “Oh my God, so good.” Silas stares at me, a pinch in his brow. “What?” I ask him.

“Can you please not m**n? I don’t want to have a boner while eating a pastrami sandwich.”

I chuckle. “You need to control yourself.”

“Won’t happen when you’re around. Sorry. Control your m**ning.”

“Can’t when a pickle hits me in all the right spots.”

“You hear yourself, right? You hear how that can be taken out of context?”

I smirk. “Maybe I wanted it to.”

He shakes his head at me. “You’re so f**king dirty.”

“Pot calling the kettle black. Not sure I’ve ever met a dirtier man than you.”

“You haven’t lived long enough,” he says as he lifts his sandwich to his mouth. “Talk to me when you’re thirty.”

“First of all, I don’t plan on having experience with anyone else, and also . . . when I’m thirty, that means you’re forty. Will you even be able to walk around with me, or will Granddad need a cane?”

“Make fun of me all you want,” he says, taking a bite of his sandwich. He chews and swallows. “But when I’m forty, I’ll still make you come harder than any other man.”

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