Free Horizons by Mickie B. Ashling Page A

shoulder, amused at his feeble attempts to escape. He was pounding me on the back and calling me a big lug. “Now what was that again about disciplining me?” I asked as I put him down, feeling his body slide against me, rubbing in all the right places.
    We stood there looking at each other, clearly wanting to take this further, but no one willing to make the first move. I knew I had a raging hard-on, and I imagined he did too. We were both breathing heavily, and it wasn’t from the minor exertion of carrying him around. My face felt like it was on fire. He ran his tongue around his lips, a habit of his that never failed to make my blood boil. I had this horrible urge to grab his head and kiss him.
    “You’re rocking my world without even trying,” I confessed, feeling all kinds of stupid.
    “Clark?”
    I spun away from him and crossed over to the other side of the room, kicking my book bag, which I’d dropped when I’d slung him over my shoulder. I sat at the table in an attempt to hide the boner straining against my pants. It was bad enough that I had to have a tutor, but I would be damned if I was going to let him see that I was lusting after him, like some pathetic fourteen-year-old schoolboy.
    He remained where I’d left him, a pained look on his face.
    “Well, are we going to study or what?” I asked, slamming a book on the table.

Chapter 8

     
    I SPED up I-80, heading out to Folsom. I’d been in a miserable mood since I left Jody last night.
    We’d sat for an hour, attempting to read through a few chapters, but the dynamic between us had changed after the close body contact. We were like two prizefighters, tiptoeing around each other, afraid to meet in the center of the ring for fear of the explosion that would occur. He must have been able to tell I was at my breaking point, as I clenched and unclenched my jaw the entire time we were reading. I couldn’t bear to look at him, and when his hand accidentally brushed mine, we both jumped in shock.
    It was torture in the most erotic, mind-bending way. I would have probably disgraced myself if he touched me again, and so I just stood up, kicked back the chair, and told him I had to go. He sat there and nodded, looking the other way. I knew he was as affected as I was because his hands were trembling when he held the book and his eyes were shimmering.
    I pulled into my parents’ driveway, completely unaware of the distance I’d traveled. The house seemed unoccupied, and I yelled out for Mom, getting no response.
    Hunger seized me suddenly. I couldn’t remember when I’d last eaten, so I pulled open the refrigerator door and grabbed the essentials of a sandwich—the cold cuts, the mayo and mustard—and a bottle of Corona, balancing everything like a circus juggler. By the time I’d polished off my lunch, the troops were starting to arrive.
    “Dude, when’d you get in?” Zach grunted out, looking like he’d been through a war.
    “What’s with you?”
    “I’ve been out helping Robby lay carpet in the baby’s room.”
    “Talk about last minute.”
    “I know.”
    “Did you get it done?”
    “It’s all good. Are you staying the night?”
    “May as well.”
    “Is Nikki with you?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “We’re not joined at the hip, you know.”
    “You’re lucky to have her, dude. She’s hot as fuck!”
    “We’re just friends.”
    “What a dumbass!”
    “Don’t call me that!” I spat out, just itching for a fight. I hoped he’d say it again, because I was in the mood to break something, and his face was as good as anything.
    “What the hell is going on?” My dad had just walked through the door and caught my end of the conversation.
    “Tell Zach to mind his own business.”
    “Why are you in such a foul mood?”
    “I’m just tired of people telling me what I should and shouldn’t do.”
    “Like who?”
    “Like never mind!”
    I stood up and walked out of the room, making my way down the hall toward my bedroom. I