Moments later, another school bag landed beside it, and Conor Archibald crashed his lips to mine.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he whispered huskily in my ear before biting down gently on my earlobe.
Okay, so yeah. I left a bit out when I was talking about Conor Archibald before. A kind of significant bit. I guess quite a lot of the reason I don’t like him is because we’ve been meeting up in secret for two months now to have these steamy make-out sessions – and believe me, that boy knows what to do with his lips – but he’s still 100% in the closet and doesn’t, by the looks of things, want to come out and see the rest of the house any time soon.
Don’t get me wrong. He really is arrogant and obnoxious and extraordinarily full of himself, and these aren’t exactly qualities that I admire, but while I’m not falling for him, it does rub a bit that he won’t even acknowledge me in the hallways of our private boarding school, but waxes lyrical about how sexy and hot I am when we’re alone. And the fact that the sound of him moaning my name when I’ve got his dick in my hand is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard doesn’t even begin to make up for it.
Conor collapsed against me as he came in my hand, gasping. ‘Oh god Tyler,’ he said hoarsely, his body still rocking from the aftershock of his orgasm, ‘that was amazing.’
‘Yeah,’ I grunted, resisting the urge to wipe my hand off his back and grabbing a Kleenex out of my pocket instead; kept there for exactly this situation.