Caught? Punished?

I'm caught. I'm doomed. I'm gonna get dragged down to his office and he's going to file a report saying that I was blowing some guy in an alleyway and I'm going to get kicked out of college before it's even begun and I'm going to get a reputation and everyone will know my name for all the wrong reasons and this is the worst case scenario and worst of all is the fact that I'm just realizing that the guy I was with, my handsome mystery man, must have gone right when I went left and that means that I didn't even get his number.

Or his name.

And I'll probably never see him again.

And staring the end of my life in the face right now I probably should have higher priorities than that but I honestly don't. Honestly, that's the part that hurts the most.

I swallow hard and take a half a step back and I'm trying to think clearly and formulate some way to talk my way out the security guard dragging me down to his office when he steps forwards and all my plans are for naught as he addresses me directly.

"Have you seen a guy run through here? Longish hair? Leather jacket? Plaid shirt? Jeans?"

I stammer, my brain not working fast enough to respond.

"Anyone?" he calls out to the room, "Anyone seen a guy run through here with longish hair and wearing a leather jacket, plaid shirt, and jeans?"

"That literally describes half the people on campus," someone calls back sarcastically, "Hell I'm almost wearing that."

Sure enough, a glance around the room found that of the five guys in it three were wearing either a leather jacket or plaid shirt and all of them were wearing jeans.

"Besides you really think we'd snitch? Pig?" quipped another girl who, for emphasis, flipped the guy the bird.

If I wasn't so freaked out and undeniably glad that he'd not clocked me I might have even felt bad about it.

"Fucking punk kids," he says, shaking his head and slamming his way out the door, "Should have taken that mall security gig instead."

Once the door closed I breathed out a long and slow and steady breath and turned away as quickly as I could. I walked through the hall from this building to the next, trying to look like I was walking with purpose and a destination in mind until I managed to make my way through to the building at the end of the collection of them and turned into a public bathroom, walking instantly over to the sinks and flicking on a faucet to have it start running.

Leaning over the sink I stared into the water as it rushed down, breathing heavily and marveling at the luck I had and laughter started up from somewhere and it took a moment for me to realize that it was coming from me.

I had been so lucky. I had had so much fun.

Fuck me. I mean that was the goal and it hadn't happen but fuck me that was amazing. Every bit of it was amazing from the reckless way I'd just dragged him into the alley and pretty much thrown myself at him to the way I'd acted almost instinctively.

Sucking. Swallowing. Enjoying.

I could still taste the memory of him on my lips, on my tongue. I could savor it and when I closed my eyes I could remember the way he'd been overcome. The way that he hadn't been able to help himself.

The thrumming heat in my belly, it was still there. Placing my hand over it I could feel it aching and while there was plenty for me to have, god I was satisfied with what I got. What I got was so good. So right. So unbelievably me.

The new me.

The me, maybe, that I wanted to be.

Emily Ross. The kind of girl who would do that?

Maybe, just maybe. Maybe yes.

Because after all, I had.

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