Iced Out (Leighton U Book 1)

Why in God’s name I thought it would be a good idea to take another freaking philosophy class for an elective this semester is beyond me. It was meant to be a quick, easy A with everything I learned last term, but I end up studying this shit more often than I do anything else. And while it makes sense in theory, when the professor asks me to put it in my own words in an essay, it becomes a lot fucking harder.

Doesn’t help that Kant, Hume, and all the rest of them blur together into one jumbled mess inside my brain after staring endlessly at my textbook, trying to figure out where I want to start. Which is what I’ve been doing since nine this morning, when I arrived at the library.

Eight fucking hours ago.

I’m about two seconds away from ripping my damn hair out when I notice a lone figure weaving their way through the dimly lit stacks toward me.

At first I think I might be hallucinating from staring at the computer screen for too long. Because there’s no way in hell Quinn is at the library. On a Sunday…or probably any other day of the week.

But I’d recognize that smirk and saunter just about anywhere. They’re the only things getting my blood heated these days—whether it be out of lust or anger.

He looks good. Damn near edible in his LU Hockey hoodie and sweats. None of which should be attractive in their own right, but Quinn makes it work for him just as much as he does leather and jeans.

Then again, maybe it’s those fucking glasses getting to me instead.

“Stalking me, de Haas?”

He stops across the table from me, his damn smirk growing when his eyes lock with mine before shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. “Stalking? No way in hell. This little meet-cute is one hundred percent consequential.”

I squint at him. “You mean coincidental?”

“Tomato, potato,” he says, brushing me off. “The point is, it’s not stalking.”

“Oh, really?” My brow raises. “Because I know there’s absolutely no chance in hell you just happened to stroll onto the fifth floor of the library. First or second, maybe. Highly unlikely, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. But up here? Absolutely not.”

All I get is a non-committal shrug. “I know, it’s weird. But I was just up here browsing the stacks in search of a good book and there you were. Must’ve been fate.”

“Destiny,” I deadpan. “Especially when the only books up here are actually research articles and dissertations.”

He rounds the table, coming up beside me and placing one hand on the smooth wood, the other on the back of my chair. The light brush of his fingers sears me through my shirt, instantly making my stomach roll with anticipation.

There’s nothing shook up in his stare down at me, blue eyes flaming and a quirk on those sinful lips. And it’s infuriating to know the damn guy doesn’t even have the decency to look sheepish when he’s caught red-handed in a blatant lie.

“Give it up, Quinn. How’d you find me?”

“Sent out an APB, obviously.”

I roll my eyes. “And the real answer, jackass?”

“Oh, calm down, baby.” His deep laugh, a low baritone, floats over my skin and sends a rush of lust and adrenaline coursing through me. Or maybe it was the pet name that…I could get used to hearing more.

God, I’m so fucked for this guy.

My brow lifts some more as I wait for his answer. Which comes as he circles around me, both hands brushing my shoulders and his breath hot on the side of my neck as he speaks into my ear.

“I asked Cam.”

I turn to face him, my mouth only inches from his. “Seriously? And that isn’t going to be a dead giveaway to something being up with us?”

After all the crap that went down last week, the last thing I need are my roommates asking even more questions.

“He’s none the wiser, I’m sure of it,” he practically purrs. “I told him I had a book for you. Leadership for Dummies. He laughed and said you’ve been here all day. And since I know you have an essay due tomorrow, I figured you’d go where it’s the quietest. With the least people around to…distract you.”

Part of me wants to laugh at how clever, and insanely ridiculous, his excuse is, but my body is too keyed up from his proximity.

Thankfully, he leans away, giving me some much-needed distance as he pulls out the chair beside me at the table. Too bad it’s not nearly enough, because my attention is still hyper fixated on his body only a foot away.

How in the ever-loving fuck this guy gets me worked up with his presence alone is so far outside my IQ range, it’s laughable. Then again, it could also be the warm palm landing on my thigh beneath the table, just above my knee.

“And now you’re here to fuck it all up, aren’t you?” I murmur, gaze locking on his. When he nods, I can’t help the soft scoff falling free from my lips. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because whether or not you want to admit it,” he whispers, fingers inching closer and closer to my dick. “I’m your favorite kind of distraction.”

He’s right, he’s become my favorite distraction. And he’s also correct in assuming there’s no way in hell I’d ever own up to it.

Too bad he must read it all over my face, because the sinful grin on his lips only grows—like my fucking dick. Another thing he doesn’t fail to notice, if the way his finger grazes against it, teasing along the head, is any indication.

“And honestly?” he murmurs, arching a brow. “You look like you could use a little bit of a…stress break.”

My eyes leave him, checking around the dimly lit fifth floor. There’s a handful of people in study cubes or strewn about at tables across the open areas…and the closest person is still a good thirty feet away.

Taking my silence as a go ahead, Quinn strokes me over my own pair of sweats. My hand darts beneath the table on instinct, gripping his wrist tight enough to hurt.

“Not here,” I hiss, releasing my hold on him. “Last aisle on the left. Go all the way to the back. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He smirks, pulling his hand back and rising from the table. “Don’t keep me waiting, or I’ll have to start without you.”

I watch as he disappears from sight in the stacks, all the while willing my dick under control so I can go find him without waving a flag at anyone I might pass by on the way there. But when ninety seconds pass and I’m still harder than stone, impatience wins out.

“Fuck it,” I mutter, tucking the damn thing in my waistband and pushing out of my seat.

Leaving my books and bag on the table, I follow in the direction I sent Quinn to wait for me. An empty table with a bunch of belongings on it might cause suspicion if left alone long enough, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take.

The only thing I care about is getting my hands on the sexiest, most infuriating teammate I’ve ever had.

Except…the last aisle is empty when I get there.

I head through the stacks, all the way to the back, about to be really fucking pissed if he left me hard up in the library, of all places. Out of nowhere, an arm reaches out and grabs me by my hoodie, hauling me into a hard, masculine body.

“Took you long enough,” he growls, pressing me into one of the wooden shelves before crashing his mouth to mine.

Tongues fight for dominance as hands frantically search for bare skin. The ends of his fingers dig into my hips while mine anchor into his hair, and we devour each other until we’re both a panting mess, ripping at clothing like two wild animals.

I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this. Of the battle we have between us before he eventually caves, becoming putty in my hands.

Twenty-four hours are all the time that’s passed since I’ve been inside him last, but I’m still starving for him. I didn’t realize how much until now.

My fingers leave his hair and dig into the hard muscles of his shoulder, shoving him to his knees at the same time he pushes my sweats to the floor. It’s agonizing how the seconds ticking by feel like years before he’s finally pushing my underwear down to pull me free. But it’s worth it the moment he flicks his wicked tongue across my slit, lapping at the precum like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

My eyes close in rapture, head falling back against the shelf behind me, and I silently thank my lucky stars there’s no real books on them to topple over with what’s about to happen.

“Make it sloppy, Quinn,” I rasp, hand cupping the back of his head as I thrust into his mouth. “I want inside that ass before I come.”

He takes everything I give him, and I swear to God, he asks for more too. Every pump of my hips, he tries to take my length further, until I’m lodged deep down his throat.

When I lift my lids and look down at him, I find his gaze already locked on my face. Watching me. Taking in every ounce of pleasure written on my face. Pleasure he’s giving me.

His nostrils flare, the heat in his eyes searing me, spurring me on more as I continue fucking into his mouth.

That mouth was made to destroy me.

But his mouth isn’t enough. I want all of him. I want to see all of him.

“Lose the pants,” I order.

A wicked grin curls his lips when he releases me. “You want me to put on a show for you, baby?” He doesn’t even bother giving me a second to respond. Instead, his sweats slide down over his thighs, revealing his cock. Long and hard and thick, a bead of pre-cum sitting on the tip making my mouth water.

And I notice, once again, he’s commando.

“No underwear,” I muse, locking gazes with him again. “You knew exactly what you wanted when you came here.”

He grins, leaning in for me again. “I had my hopes.”

Seems I’m not the only one who’s been insatiable for this since the first time.

My eyes heat when his lips find their way back to my dick at the same time he wraps a fist around himself, giving his length a slow tug.

Yes.

“Lemme see how hard you get from me fucking your face.”

He smirks again, around my cock this time, and makes a show of jacking himself while he blows me. It’s a filthy, erotic sight, and soon enough, all my senses are quickly overstimulated in the best way.

A way bringing me closer and closer to release.

Using my free hand, I grip his wrist and drag his arm upward. His eyes flash to mine, a silent question in their blue depths as he continues to work me over with his mouth. Rather than give him an answer, I smirk and lick his index and middle fingers before dragging them past my lips. He groans around my length as my tongue swirls around the digits, getting them nice and wet for what I have planned.

Once I’m done and release him, I don’t even have to tell him what I want to do. He’s already reaching his arm behind him, sinking his fingers inside. I can tell the moment they breach past the rim, another sinful moan vibrating around my length, muffled it deep down his throat.

“That’s it, Quinn. Work yourself open for me,” I demand, my voice a gruff whisper as I piston my hips forward.

I’m caught between wanting to let my head fall back, truly letting the pleasure take over my senses, and keeping watch, all the while memorizing every single detail of this encounter for later. Sear it into my brain so I’ll never possibly forget it.

Pleasure wins out in the end.

How can’t it when everything he does makes me feel this good?

It doesn’t matter that he’s making me as rash and reckless as he’s known for being. But fuck, if it doesn’t make me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before. And if we’re gonna be reckless? If we’re going to fuck around in public, we’re actually going to fuck.

I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted inside him before this was over.

Pulling from his mouth, I yank him to his feet and spin him around to face the stacks. There’s only so much time before someone’s bound to walk through here, and I want him full of my cum well before that happens.

Spitting in my palm, I mix my saliva with his on my cock before lining up with his hole, pleased to find him already pressing back for more.

“Hold on to the shelf,” I command softly, to which he quickly obeys. “And do your best to keep quiet.”

Once I know he can steady himself, I press my hips forward just enough to crown him. I had planned to ease him into it, especially without any lube, but he pushes back on my second shallow thrust, and I slide all the way home.

“Oh, my. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans, both hands digging into the wood hard enough to splinter it.

“Shh,” I murmur into his ear, pulling back an inch before sinking back in. “If you can’t be quiet, I’m gonna have to stop. Something neither of us want.”

I know it’s asking a lot of him, the mouthy, vocal fucker he is. But there’s a fine line between a little reckless fun and getting arrested for public indecency. The latter is sure to happen if he can’t shut up. Though, I can’t say I blame him. The pressure around my cock is exquisite, the clenching making it nearly impossible from letting a chain of expletives spill from my own lips.

He remains silent when I give a tentative pump of my hips, so I go for another, each time sliding in until I’m seated all the way inside again. Tension lines his shoulders as he tries to keep quiet while I start moving quicker, my tempo increasing dramatically.

I reach around him, circling his cock with my fist, only to find it leaking with precum and begging for attention. Something like a whimper, or maybe a choked gasp, escapes him the moment I stroke him to the rhythm of my thrusts, and I catch him biting his fist to keep from shouting out.

“Good, Quinn,” I murmur hotly against the back of his neck. “Now, just relax. I got you.”

He loosens for me then, not just his shoulders, but his entire body. Becoming pliable for me, allowing me to drive us both up the mountain until we reach our peak, ready to jump off into a freefall together. But it’s not enough for him to let me take over, and soon he’s slamming his hips back into mine with unrelenting force. Impaling himself on my length impossibly deep and thrusting into my hand when I pull free.

Seeking, needing, aching for more of what I’m giving him.

The bookcase he’s clutching rattles from his frenzied movements, and I think he’s going to topple the thing over before this is all said and done.

Ripping his mouth from his fist, he pants out a soft moan. “Fuck, baby. More. I need more. Please.”

I’m giving him everything I fucking have as I pound into him at a frantic pace. With each powerful snap of my hips, he keeps pressing back against me, creating a muffled slap when I bottom out inside him. The little mewling sounds from the back of his throat becoming louder and more frequent.

So needy. So responsive to everything I do.

But also so, so recklessly noisy.

“Oh, fuc—”

My free hand leaves where it was planted on his hips, clasping over his mouth to keep him quiet again.

“Every sound you make while I fuck you is so damn hot, but not if they get us caught,” I growl, giving his cock a warning squeeze in my fist. “Bite me if you need to, but you have to shut up.”

His mouth moves beneath my palm, teeth sinking into the fleshy muscle beneath my thumb as I push forward at a relentless pace. Even with his teeth digging into my skin, damn near hard enough to break the skin, I still catch all the muffled moans behind my hand.

The potent scent of sweat and sex fill the air around us, sending my lust into overdrive. Need turns into desperation as I piston into him, taking from him as much as I’m giving. More and more precum pools on his tip, and I spread down his shaft as I jack him from root to tip. The desire to taste it runs rampant through me, but so does the need to fill him.

Mark and claim him as mine with my cum.

My tongue darts out, licking a bullet of sweat dripping down his neck instead. The taste of salt and Quinn bursts on my tongue, and I nip at his throat for more, causing him to groan some more. The sound vibrates off my palm loud enough, I swear someone has to be hearing us.

But at this point, I don’t even care about getting caught. Hell, nothing else matters right now except for me and Quinn and this and us.

His breathing comes in harsh gasps from beneath my palm, quickly turning into a muted cry of pleasure. And I know I must be hitting just the right spot inside him. The spot that makes him see stars for me, and me alone.

And it’s enough to make my balls ache and throb for release.

“That’s it, Quinn. Get there,” I rasp, my voice coming out low and ragged. “Come for me.”

Almost on command, he bears down on me, his climax sending me spiraling into my own. Cum spurts from me as I bury myself deep inside him and hold there. His ass might as well be a vise, milking my orgasm with every constricting clench and squeeze it makes around my length.

“Fuck,” I mutter, his cum spreading through my fingers and dripping to the floor at his feet. “Fuck, that’s it.”

His teeth release their hold on my hand, and when I pull it back to look at it, I find a couple spots where he damn near broke skin.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, forehead falling against the shelves in front of him. “It was that or shout out for the entire building to hear.”

“Don’t you fucking dare apologize. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Better than the shower?”

The comparison causes me to pause, because the shower was sure as hell one of the hottest experiences of my life too. Edging at its finest.

But this wins. By a fucking landslide.

“Better than the shower,” I confirm.

And I’m now realizing Quinn might’ve found some sort of hidden thrill-seeker hiding inside me. The possibility of being caught gets me off. Him too, apparently.

But even with a new kink unlocked, it’s not true exhibitionism, and I definitely don’t want to be caught. The orgasm I was chasing made it so I didn’t care, but now with the high wearing off, it doesn’t sound pleasant in any capacity. No matter how worth it the release was.

So even though I’m ready to collapse into a sweaty, cum soaked mess with him and not move for hours, I pull free from his body and start righting myself. He does too, clearly agreeing we’ve been risky enough for one day. No need to add any extra minutes to get caught.

Once we’re both decent, cocks put away and sweatpants pulled up our hips, I crowd him back against the shelves and kiss him.

Soft and slow, like it’s the only thing in the world I want to be doing.

And right now, it is.

When I pull away, once again gasping for air, there’s a dopey, euphoric smile on his face. “We’re so doing that again.”

I chuckle and rest my forehead against his. “Maybe we should make sure we’ve escaped unnoticed this time before we plan another round?”

“You’re probably right.” He lets out a soft sigh, adding, “And why limit ourselves to just the library? We’ve already christened the locker room. There’s plenty of other academic buildings for us to fornicate in.”

I lean away to look at his face. “Did you seriously just say fornicate?”

A small smirk lifts the corner of his lips. “What can I say? Maybe you fucked me so hard into these shelves, some of the knowledge on them got inside me too.”

“Wow,” I murmur, shaking my head. “Unbelievable.”

He laughs, leaning in to kiss me again, but I shove my hand in his face and push him away.

“I literally think I hate you sometimes.”

Rather than allowing me to deny him, he grabs the back of my neck and hauls me in and takes what he wants. He kisses me hard, the kind that curls my toes, before whispering against my lips.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”