So now, by week three of his obsession with Berry, he was going crazy. Like, to the point that he purposely irritated her so she'd talk to him, fucked girls that kinda reminded him of her, and still spent countless mornings rubbing one out in his shower—moaning her name—bat-shit crazy. He was desperate for this torment to end, and by Wednesday—"hump" day, ironically—he decided he just couldn't take it anymore.
He watched her carefully all morning. Conveniently, he'd had her morning schedule all but memorized from the year before, when he worked to optimize his slushie-to-dumpster tossing ratio. He waited patiently as the warning bell rang, then quietly slipped into the janitor's closet just down the hall from her Spanish class.
Rachel walked to Spanish, her mind flitting through conjugations for the quiz that was happening today. She was too surprised to react when a random, well-muscled arm reached out and suddenly pulled her into the janitor's closet. However, before she could reach for her rape whistle, the hands moved to pull her closer and a familiar pair of lips crushed themselves against hers.
She gasped in the dark, and "Noah" escaped her lips breathlessly. She'd done nothing but dream about him most nights, to the point that she'd found an excuse to speak to another Noah at school, a freshman, just to see if he sparked that flame within her. Of course he hadn't, and so she was left to her wishful thinking that he would maybe find her again.
And now here he was, here they were, in the janitor's closet at school; with his hands in her hair pulling her close; his mouth kissing hers greedily and hers responding with equal enthusiasm as well as her body as it began grinding up against him.
Rachel felt the heat pooling within her as she listened to him groan, felt his cock harden against her abdomen. She whimpered in pleasure as his hand inched up her skirt, fingering the waistband of her panties. She felt a sudden thrill as she listened to him whisper "my fuck, you're so wet Rache" and slip his fingers beneath the cotton, pealing them off and stroking her clit as he kissed along her jaw.
She knew she should question her own sanity—she was skipping class to fool around with a mysterious male whom she had never seen and only knew by first name. Honestly, though, she couldn't help it. He made her forget everything except him whenever his lips met hers, and she couldn't see herself making a rational thought if her life depended on it.
Noah slipped a digit into her as his thumb began rubbing her center, and she moaned against his chest. Always quick to reciprocate, she quickly undid his belt and pant zipper, reaching in to release his hardened dick. She slid her hands down his stomach, and fully grasped his cock, beginning to stroke it, gently massaging it between both hands.
She shivered in excitement as she heard him curse and then whisper in her ear, "Baby, you're too good—there won't be time." He removed her hands and replaced them on his shoulders, picking her up by the waist and pressing her against the back of the closet. He then continued to work her pussy, stroking her clit and adding a second finger in with the first.
She began to pant, and could barely hear Noah encouraging her on as she began flying straight up. She ground herself against his fingers, and he curled them inwards as he pumped them in and out of her, harder and faster. Rachel couldn't help herself, she began to chant "Noah—Noah!" and before the edge overtook her had the sense to bite down hard on his shoulder, allowing the flesh to envelop her climax.
The bite seemed to really set him off. Maintaining his hold on her, he slipped on a condom and slipped insider her, groaning her name softly the whole time. He just barely held it in as he thrust into her over and over. She whispered encouragment, fingering his boys and murmuring how good he was, how amazing he felt, and he growled out her name again as he came.
Puck set her down as gently as he could, and pulled off the condom, tossing it in the trash can. He was still panting, but he managed to breathe out, "Fuck Rache; never in my life…"
He just looked in her direction, holding her hand since he couldn't see her in the darkness. She was out of breath as well, but he was willing to wager she made a better attempt to hide it. Really; he'd never had such a girl in his life, and, whether it was the drugs or not, he wasn't sure he'd ever have one like her again. Goddamn, was all he could think. Where the hell had this girl been all his life?
They lay together in comfortable silence for a few minutes, though in the dark it felt like an eternity. Puck allowed his hands to trail through her hair, trace patterns on her arms, pretend that what they had was real and not some smoke-and-mirrors, drug-induced fling. It made him happy; calm even.
"So you are from here then?" Rachel's whisper cut through the darkness, causing Puck's hand to still and his expression to wince. "McKinley, I mean."
"Uh, yeah."
She obviously felt the discomfort in his answer, because she quickly rambled on, "I was just curious, because after the party you implied we'd likely never see each other again." He could practically feel her flush. "I guess I just assumed you went elsewhere."
Puck felt like shit—this girl deserved so much better than what he was giving her. "Look," he told her, tracing her face with his hand. "When I said that, I didn't mean to make it sound like I didn't want to see you again; I just meant—" he paused, trying to think of something that would make sense without giving him up. "I just meant it may not be good for us to be seen together, you know?"
Rachel was suddenly glad for the darkness, because she didn't want him to see the tears that were threatening to spill. She knew she wasn't popular (at all), but that he didn't want anyone to know about them? To keep her his dirty little secret?
Though he wasn't able to see her, he could hear her small voice utter "Oh."
"Aw damn, Rache," he told her, sitting up and wrapping his arms around her tightly. "Not like that. It's not like that at all. I'm afraid of what may happen with you being seen with me, not the other way around. Can you get that at all?"
Rachel sniffled and looked up into his barely discernable features, imagining him looking down at her. She could understand not wanting to drag down someone in the social hierarchy—wasn't that what she'd just been thinking after all?—but she couldn't for the life of her think who was lower on the pole than she.
"You must be mistaken if you can imagine that, whomever you might be, my associating with you would lower my social standing anymore than it already is," she whispered as she allowed him to pull her tighter.
"Trust me, babe," he whispered. "If you had any idea about who you really were at this school, you'd worry your ass off about hanging around people like me." He paused as he kissed her temple. "You're amazing Rachel."
They said little after that, and she allowed him to hold her until the bell rang. He helped her fix her hair a little (though she insisted she could just stop by the bathroom on her way to history), and kissed her before backing into the shadows as she headed to the door.
Rachel walked back out into the lighted hall, hoping her hair wasn't too messy from her liaison. She looked back at the closet she'd just exited, wondering who the mystery man she'd become so enamored with was and what he was hiding.