Black Sheep

“Jesus, Kap. What happened to you?”

I look up from the sink in the Psych building’s faculty break room with a sigh and a weary glare. The ice burns its cold sting into my skin. I wince as I press it harder to my wrist. “I went to the library.”

Fletcher scoffs. “And what, battled a velociraptor? You look like shit.” She leans against the counter and takes in the disheveled sight before her. The mussed-up hair. The shreds of the jacket’s lining hanging below its hem. My guilty-as-fuck expression. I fucked your grad student in the library, my thoughts blare on repeat. I scowl down at my wrist.

“Oh my god,” Fletch says. “You had sex.”

“What the fuck?”

“Who was it?”

“How did you—”

“It was Bria, wasn’t it?”

“What the—”

“Holy shit. It was Bria. And she ate you alive.” Fletcher cackles a delighted laugh. She slaps her thigh and I shoot her a glare. She only laughs harder. I groan and lean down to rest my forehead on my arm. “See? I told you she doesn’t hate you.”

“No, she definitely hates me,” I grumble without looking up.

“Not that much if she screwed you in the library.”

“But enough to pull the emergency alarm afterward and leave me to deal with campus security.”

Fletcher bellows another laugh. She laughs and laughs and laughs. I can almost hear the tears sliding down her skin. When it finally subsides, she lays a hand on my shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

She chuckles and it fades to a long pause of silence before Fletcher squeezes my shoulder and passes behind me. I hear the fridge door open and I lift my head to watch as she opens a random carton of almond milk. She gives the contents a sniff and takes a long swig. My stomach churns. “I’m happy for you,” she says, the amusement in her voice coated with a thick smear of processed nut juice.

“Don’t be.”

“Why not, because you bent and broke a few rules in one night? Bria’s not your student. Maybe it’s not celebrated as the paradigm of morality, but come on, Kap. You’re both consenting adults and you’re not her supervisor. You’re not even going to be here next year. And fucking in the library? Yeah, that’s probably forbidden if you read between the lines of the rules that are posted on the wall. But who hasn’t had that fantasy? And more importantly, who were you hurting?”

“I don’t know, campus security’s budget? Those dickhead undergrads that never bothered to check if we’d left?”

Fletcher snorts. “Stop trying to live up to your Marvel namesake, Kap,” she says as she leans back and looks at my butt. “That is America’s Ass. Though maybe not anymore. It might belong to Bria the Velociraptor now.”

Fletcher cackles as I sigh dramatically and shift my gaze back down to my wrist. I still feel guilt twisting my guts like braided rope. This isn’t me, bending my rules so far that they fray and break. But it felt good. Really good. Like all this pressure to conform to rigid standards was released for a few precious moments. I took what I wanted, and in the absence of the voice of reason was music. The sound of Bria’s desperate moans. The rhythm of her back slamming into the books. The cadence of my breath and the heartbeat that deafened me.

I groan and lay my forehead back down against my arm, turning Fletcher’s question over in my mind. Who am I hurting? Me. Me and my sanity. Because there’s no way one stolen moment with Bria will ever be enough, but she might never let me close to have a second chance at capturing that feeling again. And that thought is like a blade carving out my soul.

Fletcher laughs as though she can see my pathetic thoughts. I turn my head and watch as she takes another long drink from the carton. “Whose is that?”

“No idea. I’m living on the edge, Kap.” I snort a laugh and Fletcher pats my shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go get a real drink.”

We head to Fletch’s house on Oak where she and her wife, Blake, manage to wrestle free a few details about my eventful evening. Yes, it was scorching hot. Yes, it surpassed every library-sex fantasy I’ve ever had—and I’ve had many. Yes, Bria most definitely still hates me. I think.

Bria is there in my mind even when our conversation moves to other topics. She’s a scar across my thoughts. Her gentle scent is still in my nostrils. She wasn’t wearing perfume. It’s just her, a faint flowery note in her skin. But her taste…it exploded on my tongue. Sweet and hot with a hint of salt. I want to bury my face between her thighs, to devour her, to stroke the flesh inside her as she pulls my hair and rides my face and I—

“Kap. Have you heard a word I said?”

“Boy’s got it bad,” Blake agrees with a smirk around the lip of her wine glass.

“He barely survived one round. I don’t know if we should be trying to push them on that trip together,” Fletcher says. “He might wind up a bunch of bleached bones on the roadside.”

I glower at Fletcher and take a sip of my bourbon. “Trip? What trip? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your trip to Ogden, dumbass. Interviewing eyewitnesses. You know, part deux of the favor you owe me.”

I run my palm down my face. “Absofuckinglutely not. I am not taking Bria with me to Ogden. I couldn’t even get her to go to dinner as per your request. Are you on crack?”

Fletcher cackles like the evil villain in basically any movie ever. “Oh come on, Kap. I’m willing to bet your dinner invitation was half-assed at best, but look at you now! You’ve well surpassed that by fucking her in the library. You’ve exceeded my wildest expectations.”

A loud groan resonates from my chest.

“Besides,” she continues, “she’s a talented student. We’re lucky to have her. She could have gone anywhere. Literally anywhere, and she’s here at Berkshire. And you’re going to deny her the chance to go test her methods of interviewing in the field because, what…you’re worried you’re going to fuck her? Spoiler alert, Kap—you already did.”

“And you will again,” Blake pipes in as Fletch snickers beside her.

“I hate you both.”

Blake’s onyx eyes warm with empathy and she tosses her long black braids over her shoulder, leaning forward to rest her forearms on her knees. “In medicine, you might spend the first few years learning in the classroom, but you become a true doctor in the process of clinical rotations and residency. You know, by doing. Putting your training into practice.”

“There are dangerous people involved. Bria could get hurt.”

“There are dangerous people everywhere. You can’t shield her from the career she chose. She’s far from stupid. She knows there are risks,” Blake counters. “You know I try to stay neutral between you both, but I’m with Kat on this. Give Bria a chance to do this.”

I sigh, leaning back in my chair as I take a long sip of my drink. Fletcher smiles and the long glance we exchange makes me think that if I let it linger, the decision will be made for me.

When I eventually Uber home, it’s with the determination to sort my shit out and maybe lay off the bourbon for a few days.

So that’s how I vow to spend the rest of my week. Eating clean, head down, working hard. I resolve to avoid the fourth floor. No trips to any coffee shops. When I have lunch with Fletch on Wednesday, I promise to talk to Bria after the weekend about coming along to the interviews. Until then, however, I stay focused on my own shit, no matter how taxing that becomes.

But now, it’s Friday afternoon, and the momentum I felt at the beginning of the week has slowly died. I’m supposed to be grading assignments for my second year Introduction to Cognition class. But I’m not. I’m looking up restaurants in Ogden, Utah, compiling the most promising options on my OneNote. My thoughts seem to be drifting everywhere they shouldn’t go. I started the week strong, but as it’s progressed, everything has begun feeling like an effort to get to a destination that eludes me. When I’m supposed to be thinking of lecture topics, I’m wishing I were doing more mundane admin tasks. When I’m trying to grade papers, I’m thinking about interviewing former cult members and plans for taking down Caron Berger. When I should be thinking about research papers, I think about Bria, and invariably my dick thinks of her too, and that leads to me having to jerk off multiple times a day in a futile effort to get my brain back on track.

I’m about to give myself a stern talking-to when there’s a soft knock at my open office door. I look up as it drifts open a little wider.

Bria’s formidable energy takes up the empty space like a dark star.

“Dr. Kaplan,” she says, her voice clear and precise, yet alluring and full of mystery. “Am I disturbing you?”

“No, not at all,” I reply. I want to stand but my dick is already hard and straining against my zipper at the mere sight of her. She’s wearing a dress today, not her usual jeans and sweater combination. Her hair is long and loose around her shoulders, the waves tumbling over the strap of her bag as she spins and closes the door behind her. “Have a seat.”

I gesture to the chair across from me and she stays standing, eyeing my hand as though she’s calculating how quickly she could rip it off. I realize after a moment that she’s not looking at my hand but my wrist, and my focus drops to the faint purple bruise. When I meet her eyes, she’s staring back at me with the mirage of a smile in her deep brown gaze.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Bria lets the bag slip from her shoulder and sets it down on the floor next to her as she takes a seat. She says nothing as she folds her hands in her lap. It seems she’s comfortable sitting ramrod straight and completely silent. Me…not so much. The silence stretches on as she watches me, her faint smile unwavering as she absorbs all the energy in the room.

“Can I…do something for you?” I ask. Bria’s smile widens as though I’ve just confirmed some hidden joke. It suddenly dawns on me she was doing it on purpose, playing me to the simplest of human behavior, the need to fill the awkward silence. Why though, I have no idea. Maybe just to throw me off-balance. Maybe just because she could. Maybe to remind me she can think circles around me, which I don’t need much reminding about lately.

“Actually, Dr. Kaplan, it’s about what I can do for you.”

Holy Christ, my dick loves the sound of those words. I clear my throat and take a sip of my lukewarm coffee that I haven’t touched in the last hour.

“Go on,” I manage.

“I heard you’re going to interview next month. In Ogden.”

My brow furrows. Fletcher went ahead and told her. Bria smiles as I smooth my expression. “That’s right.”

“I wanted to offer my assistance. To go with you. It’s mutually beneficial. I can support with the interviews, and in return I can use the experience toward my dissertation.”

“You realize this comes with risks, correct? The interview subjects are from Legio Agni, which is run by some powerful, wealthy, well-connected individuals.” I swallow, a burst of heat flooding my chest as I think about the weight of my next words. “While the risks are low, I can’t guarantee your safety anymore than I can mine.”

“I understand,” Bria says, seemingly untroubled.

“And you will need to sign some forms. Liability waivers, NDAs…the FBI also requires a background check.”

Bria’s eyes darken but she gives a single nod. “I figured that would be the case. It’s fine.”

We stare at one another for a long moment. This is a terrible idea. I both loathe and love it. “All right,” I finally say, and I catch the brief flash of pleased surprise in Bria’s eyes. “Do you have the funds from your grant to pay for the trip or do you need it covered by mine?”

Bria laughs, and the room fills with magic. It’s unbidden and joyous. Musical. I’m utterly spellbound.

“I can cover myself, Dr. Kaplan,” she says on the heels of a giggle. A wicked grin flits across her full lips and it takes everything in me to tear my eyes from them. Stripping my attention away from the memory of her kiss is like ripping off a Band-Aid.

“The plan is to leave early on a Friday, come back the following Monday evening. The drive is about eight hours. Seven o’clock start work for you?” I ask, for some reason eyeing her with skepticism even though I’m sure she won’t protest.

“Of course,” she replies, the echo of her earlier levity softening the usual sharp edges of her voice. “Send me a list of anything you need me to bring. I like to be prepared.”

Now that is no surprise. I’ve already gleaned that she has every eventuality planned out. I’m sure any item I give her on my list will already be on hers, but I’ll do it anyway. “I will.”

Bria smiles and we sit in silence, and though the moment could be strained by the lack of conversation, I take the chance to just look at her. I memorize every detail, from the bow of her full lips to her wide brown eyes to the smattering of freckles that dusts her nose. There’s a tiny scar near her hairline, a fallen black lash on her cheekbone that I would give anything to dust away. But there’s the expanse of her, the inimitable force of her, the depth that lies beyond what I can see. That’s what draws me in. It’s the impossibly fierce mind at work behind those eyes.

This moment that feels so sacred stretches on like pulled taffy, longer and longer until it thins. And still we sit in silence, and I keep trying to work her out, wondering what she’s waiting for, until it occurs to me. I have a chance to push her. To see where she will go if I give her a shove.

“Is there anything else, Bria? Or are we done?”

There’s a flicker in her eye. It’s so brief I could have imagined it. Nothing else about her expression changes. Just that wink of a star, and then it’s gone.

“I don’t think so, Dr. Kaplan.” Bria rises from her chair and gives me one last smile before she turns toward the door.

You fucking idiot, Kaplan. 

In an even more idiotic move than dismissing her callously, I race around the edge of the desk and come up behind her just as she reaches for the door handle, pressing the front of her body to the wood as I cage her with my hands.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else?” I whisper next to her ear as the sound of the conversation of passersby drifts beneath the door. It sets my heart battering against my ribs. “There wasn’t something else you wanted?”

Bria lets out a long breath as though trying to steady herself. “Well, I was going to fuck you but it appears you’re not interested.”

I swallow a groan and grind my pelvis against her ass, showing her exactly how interested I truly am. Bria’s breath hitches and I bite down on her earlobe, pressing into her again. I hear the click as she turns the lock on the handle.

“Get on the desk, Ms. Brooks.”

I move back just enough to let her pass. Her gaze collides with mine on her way toward the desk. I know that look. It’s anticipation. Desire. And a little bit of rage.

I follow as close as a shadow as Bria stops at the desk with her back to me, doing something on her phone. A breath later my voice is playing at a conversational volume. My lecture from last week’s Intro to Cognition class. Bria sets the phone on my bookshelf and turns toward me as she backs to the desk until her ass hits the edge.

“I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong impression,” she says with a wicked smile.

“How did you—”

“I have skills you don’t even know about, Dr. Kaplan.”

My chest burns with the urge to claim this woman in every way possible. With my mouth. With my hands. With my words and promises. And most definitely with my cock that strains against my pants.

“On the desk. Now.”

Bria smiles sweetly but her eyes are twin black flames, ready to absorb my soul. She rests her palms on the edge of the desk, shifts her weight onto her hands, then hops up onto the thick wooden slab. She raises one eyebrow as if to ask what’s next.

“Open your legs.”

Bria shifts one knee and then the other until her legs are spread wide, the fabric of her dress dipping between her thighs. I stalk closer until I take up the space there, and I lay my hands on her knees, gliding my palms up her skin without ever taking my eyes from hers. My hands consume every inch of her creamy smooth flesh, the muscle beneath my fingers lithe and strong, and finally I reach her hips.

“Ms. Brooks,” I say in a low, quiet, chastising voice as my recorded lecture prattles on in the background. “Did you come here without underwear?”

A half smile claims Bria’s face as she slowly nods. “Convenience. Your lecture only lasts forty-four minutes. Who wants to waste time with unnecessary fabric?”

I growl as my dick twitches and strains, begging to be fit into her tight, hot sheath. I grip Bria’s hips and pull her with a rough tug to the edge of the desk. “Don’t you make a sound,” I demand.

She makes a zipping motion across her lips, tossing away an invisible key.

I push Bria’s dress up to her hips and spread her legs wide, taking in every inch of her glistening pink flesh. I kneel before her, my grip tightening on the soft skin of her thighs as my eyes take their fill of the moisture gathered on her folds, beckoning me to have a taste.

And then I descend.

I feast on her like a starving man. I run my tongue through her lips and up to her clit and down again, plunging it into her pussy. Her silky slick arousal floods my mouth and smears my lips with salty sweetness, the taste so delectably Bria. I kiss and suck on her sensitive bud and she releases her grip on the edge of the desk to twine her fingers into my hair, pushing me closer as she gasps.

Bria tells me what she likes without ever making a sound louder than a breath of air. She grinds against my face when I work her clit in circles. She pulls my hair if I suck a little too long and she bucks with surprise when I scrape her sensitive bud with my teeth, pushing me closer for more. I learn everything she loves and commit it to memory.

And then I push two fingers into her pussy and curl them upward, stroking the sweet, sensitive flesh as I worship her clit. I pump my fingers and Bria leans back, grasping one of her breasts as she grips my hair in a tight fist. I whisper filthy things into her flesh. Dark fantasies. Devious desires. I want to tie your legs open so I can devour you when I please. I want to fall asleep with my cock still buried in your pussy and wake you up by thrusting into you. I want to fuck your mouth until you choke on my dick. And Bria loves every filthy thing I say. I feel it inside her. Her most sensitive muscles clench around my fingers until she bites down on her hand to keep from crying out. Her channel constricts and flutters around my touch, her body pulling me in, trapping me in a place I never want to leave. She writhes and pants and I work her through it, wringing out every last burst of pleasure until she starts to relax.

When Bria’s quivering aftershocks subside, I wipe my chin with the back of my hand and climb up her body. And then I kiss her deeply, sharing her taste onto her tongue. Her scent and her flavor are seared into my brain like a brand. My need for her only burns hotter, a bottomless pit of flame, and I kiss her like I want her to know it. She kisses me back like she does.

I curl my arm beneath Bria’s back and lift her from the desk, not breaking the kiss as I hoist her into my arms like she weighs nothing. For someone so strong and capable of putting me on my knees, she’s very slight, almost birdlike in her sinewy grace. But as I learned quickly, this is a deception, an illusion. I may be able to carry Bria to the other side of the desk with very little effort, but if she didn’t want to be exactly where she is, she would put me on my ass.

When we get to the other side of the desk, I set her down on her feet, turning her to face away from me and pushing her torso down across the desk, maneuvering her hands to grip onto the opposite edge. I lay my palm on her back and lean close as the lecture recorded on her phone drones on in the background. “Do not move,” I whisper, and she makes no motion to do so. “And remember to tap three times if anything is too much.”

I dig in my pocket and take out the key for my desk drawer, unlocking the top right side where I’ve recently hidden a few surprises in the wildest hope that this second chance with Bria would come, never thinking it actually would. I pull out a bottle of cherry lube and rifle through my options until I find what suits my mood.

“What are you up to, Dr. Kaplan?” Bria whispers, her tone bemused and curious as she glances over her shoulder before I gently push her back down. “Dr. Kaplan… Do you have a naughty drawer at work?”

“I do.”

“How very filthy. I thought Berkshire University was meant to be a fine upstanding center of academic excellence.”

“Aside from my cock, there is nothing upstanding about me when it comes to you. And now that I’ve had a taste of that sweet pussy of yours, I will do literally anything to stay exactly where I am. I don’t care who I have to rob or kill,” I say as I uncap the lube and push Bria’s dress up over her hips. Bria laughs, that musical sound enriching the space between us like a rare, magical phenomenon.

“Dr. Kaplan, you are speaking my language.”

I rub my hand across Bria’s ass as I drizzle lube down the center of her crack and then set it aside. I separate her cheeks and watch as it slides over the puckered hole, down to her glistening pussy that’s slick and begging for my cock. Then I take the beaded toy and run it down through the lube, all the way to her swollen clit, coating it in moisture.

“One day soon you’ll take my cock here,” I promise as I roll the round head of the toy over her ass, massaging the pleated rim. I take my time loosening it, pressing, molding, testing the resistance, massaging some more. “Relax, Bria.”

She takes a deep breath in, and on the exhale I push the first bead in past the tight rim. I slowly guide it further until the second, slightly larger bead reaches the resistance, and I press on it gently, waiting until she exhales another deep breath before pushing that in also.

“Good girl. Four more,” I whisper, then I use my other hand to start circling her clit. Bria shudders and stifles a moan as I guide the next bead in and the next and the next until we reach the last one, the biggest that’s attached to a stem of almost the same width, and then a handle. “Last one, Bria.”

I slowly guide the toy to its full length and Bria presses her forehead to her arm, her pussy throbbing as I lean back and take in the sight of the black toy resting deep in her ass and her sheath pulsing with need for my cock. I undo my zipper and lower my pants and briefs, lining up with her pussy while being careful to avoid the end of the toy. And then I push my way in.

“Christ, Bria. You are so tight. You are every fantasy I could never have imagined, come to life,” I whisper as I slowly glide to my hilt and back again. Bria shudders with pleasure, her knuckles bleaching as she grips the edge of the desk. “I can’t guarantee I won’t fuck you six ways to Sunday every chance I get on this trip.”

“I’m counting on it, Kaplan.”

Her words spur me into a steady cadence of smooth thrusts. I know the excitement of that possibility, and what I could do with her is going to keep me with my dick in my hand for the next few weeks. But right now I’m entranced by the sight before me, her dress pushed up to her waist, those delicate but strong hands holding onto the sharp edge of the wood, the blush on her ass cheeks, the bounce of the toy with every pulse of my hips. I keep the rhythm as steady as music, a slow, almost imperceptible build. A crescendo of pleasure that’s nearing its peak with every stroke.

Bria’s muscles grow tense and a sheen of sweat starts to film her skin, and I know she’s as close as I am to coming undone. So I slow my rhythm and I grab hold of the toy, working it out and back in just an inch or two. And then I turn on the vibration.

“Fucking Christ,” she hisses, the sound almost enraged as she lets go of the desk with one hand to fold it into a tight fist. For a moment I worry she’s going to deck me with it, but she just curls it tighter and bites her lip.

“Too much?” I whisper, stilling the motion of both my hand and my cock.

“God no. I told you I could take what you had to give, Kaplan. I didn’t tap, so you do not stop,” Bria orders, shooting me a glare over her shoulder. I give her a wicked smile, one I know will bring my dimple into view. She shifts her fury to where it rests in my cheek.

“As you wish, Ms. Brooks.” And then I pick up the pace without holding back. I thrust into Bria’s tight channel. I work the toy clenched in her ass, its vibration blanketing my cock with pleasure. I circle her clit with the pads of my fingers. And then I feel her sheath grip my erection and I watch as she starts to come apart. My own release comes like a current up my spine, my balls tightening before the cum races through my cock and fills Bria in pulses that threaten to buckle my legs and send me to my knees. It feels like it will never stop, like I’ll just keep coming until I die from an exploding heart.

When our orgasms do finally subside, I switch off the toy and then wait for a long moment as we both recover our breath. I stroke Bria’s skin and watch as her breathing returns to a more normal rhythm. But I don’t talk to her. I just observe. For some reason, I just know she needs to come down in her own time, in her own way. And so I give her that time.

When she’s ready, I pull out, searing the sight into my brain of her swollen pussy dripping my cum and the black toy still lodged to the hilt in her ass. I stare at it for a moment longer than is probably necessary, but I swear it’s one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen, so when I pull the toy out I do it slowly, just to savor the view. I pull my pants and briefs back up and then I clean her with a soft terry cloth from my drawer, making sure every drop of lube and our arousal is wiped free of her skin before I lift her from the desk and right her on her steady feet.

“I enjoyed seeing you on your knees for me more this time than I did the last,” Bria whispers as she takes her phone from the bookshelf and turns it off at a break in my monologue.

“Me too,” I say.

“Have a seat.”

Somehow, it seems completely natural that Bria would order me around in my office so assuredly, and that I would do exactly as she requests. I sit, putting the toy and lube away before double-checking that my drawer is locked. Bria drifts toward the door and unlocks the latch on the handle, listening for movement on the other side before she opens it wide enough that anyone can see the both of us if they walk by. When she sits, it’s with that same rigid posture as before. But as the sound of voices grow louder from down the hall, Bria shifts just a little, shimmying ever so slightly in her seat before she gives me a wink as if to say our little secret.

And then, like nothing at all has happened, Bria launches into a discussion about ritualizing behaviors in digital cult settings.

I nearly die.

My brain is still caught on the image of my milky white cum dripping from her pussy and Bria’s already ten steps ahead, covering both our asses with a prim and proper academic discussion. Dr. Strom and the head of the department, Dr. Takahashi, stroll by, and Takahashi pokes his head in briefly to remind me about a departmental meeting tomorrow morning. I nod and say something vaguely affirmative in a blur, and then Strom and Takahashi are gone. Bria resumes her monologue until their footsteps disappear around the corner and she cuts herself off.

“I should go,” Bria says as she stands, pulling her bag up with her. My heart plummets. Though I know I’d get nothing done with her here in my office, even if she were sitting as straight and silent as a blade, I still don’t want her to leave. “Thanks, Dr. Kaplan. That was fun. I’m looking forward to interviewing with you.”

“I…right…”

Bria pauses at the door and turns, her hair falling across her shoulder as she eyes me with a subtle, wicked smile. “Unscented lube next time,” she whispers. “People will wonder what’s up with the cherry smell, Dr. Kaplan.”

And then she’s gone, and all the energy is sucked out of the room, following her down the hall like the tail of a comet.

It’s only once she’s left that I realize. When she first went to the door before I cornered her, she’d left her bag by the chair.

She was going to lock it anyway.