SLOANE
The vibrator pulsed against my c**t while the professor wrote an equation on the board.
I kept my thighs pressed together under the desk and stared straight ahead, trying to look like I was following. Every low vibration made my stomach tighten. I shifted once. The toy settled harder against me. Heat spread between my legs, slow and steady, and I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t make a sound.
I had it on because he was coming home today. Not to our old apartment. To his mansion—the one my mother had moved us into after she remarried him three days after my father’s burial. I still hadn’t met him. I already hated him. His company had won the deal that gave my dad the heart attack. Now I was about to live under his roof, and the toy was the only thing keeping my hands from
