Judging from the way his eyes keep darting over at me—like he’s afraid I might eat him or something—he can’t figure out why I’d insisted he come with me, either.
All I know is that somewhere between the moment I saw him there and the moment I made the decision to take him with me, something inside me snapped.
Something wouldn’t let me walk away knowing that he’s already been drinking and is clearly in no condition to fend off someone who might try to take advantage of the situation.
I should know, because all I really want to do right now is talk him into taking his clothes off and giving me what I want.
What I need.
“Professor?” His eyebrows knit together as he looks over at me again.
Belatedly, I realize that we’re still sitting in the parking lot of the bar. I still haven’t started my car. And all of the conflicting thoughts racing through my head have me grinding my teeth and drumming my fingers against the steering wheel.
Christ, he probably thinks I’ve lost my mind.
I’m still not entirely sure I haven’t.
“Nick,” I say, finally. “We’re not in class right now. You can call me Nick.”
“Yes, sir,” he nods, then nibbles at his lip.
Or sir.
Sir works just fine.
The silence stretches out between us for a few seconds before he continues.
“Prof—um… Nick?”
“Yes?”
I return his stare, doing my best to school my features. I’m obviously scaring him and I silently curse myself for not handling the situation better. There were a million things I could have said or done back there, but none of them felt right in the heat of the moment. In that moment, all I could focus on were three truths:
Colton is vulnerable.
He needs me.
I won’t let anything happen to him.
Those are the only three things that matter to me right now—along with trying to reassure him that I’m not an actual crazy person.
“Why?” he asks. “Why am I here… with you?”
Because you’re mine.
That’s the simple answer, but it certainly won’t help the try-not-to-act-like-a-crazy-person rule. And of course he isn’t mine. Not yet, anyway.
But he should be.
Just like he should know that I will protect him. I will look out for him. I will take care of him and nurture that spark of greatness that I’ve already seen inside of him.
“Because this is where you need to be,” I answer, inwardly cringing at the way the truth spills out. This isn’t helping. I take a deep breath. I’m not doing myself or Colton any favors right now by acting like a caveman. He only deserves the truth, but it needs to be a reasonable version of the truth. “I’ve known you for almost an entire semester now, Colton. And I’ve never known you to…” I pause, reminding myself that I’m not here to lecture him any more than I’m here to club him over the head and take him back to my cave. Even if I want to take care of him, he’s still a grown-ass man. If he wants the same thing, he’ll have to tell me. “Maybe I shouldn’t have reacted so strongly back there, but I…”
My voice trails off again because—again—I’m not sure how much of myself I’m ready to reveal. This has already been a crazy night for me, so I can only imagine some of the thoughts that must be going through Colton’s head right now.
“I didn’t mind,” he says, giving me the faintest glimmer of a smile. “I mean… I didn’t really want to be there anyway.”
“Then why did you go?” The question slips out before I can stop myself. He doesn’t owe me anything—certainly not an explanation. If anyone should be doing some explaining right now, it’s me. But I’m genuinely curious, and at least he’s talking to me, so I’ll take what I can get.
“I’m not sure. My roommate—the guy I was with—said I should. Said it would be good to get…” His voice trails off and even in the darkness of my car, I can see that he’s blushing. He looks away quickly as he continues. “Anyway, he thought it would be good if I got out of the dorms for a while. Sort of a birthday celebration, I guess.”
So that answers a couple of questions, at least.
The guy he was with is just a roommate. I can’t help but feel a little burst of happiness at that news. Ridiculous, I know. But there’s no sense in denying it.
Am I happy that my little lamb is single? That some other guy isn’t eyeing him up—or worse—right now?
Fuck yes, I am.
Still, it would probably do both of us some good if I take this possessive streak down a notch or two.
“If you want to go back in there, I won’t try to stop you,” I say, deciding to give him one more chance to leave if that’s what he wants to do. As much as I want him, as convinced as I am that he should be mine, I’m not interested in holding him against his will. “I won’t like it,” I say, truthfully. “But I won’t stop you.”
“I’d rather stay here with you,” he says, quietly. “If that’s okay?”
So okay.
Better than okay.
Perfect.
“Good,” I say, biting the inside of my lip to hide the smile that’s trying to burst out. “We should probably get out of here, then.” I want nothing more than to take him back to my house right now. Get him inside where he’ll be safe and warm. Then start to undress him… “You said you live in the dorms?” I ask through gritted teeth. No matter what I want, I have to think of what’s best for Colton right now. Going home with me is probably not it.
“Yeah.” He nods, then looks a little sheepish. “I know I should probably get my own place now that I’m twenty-one, but I get room and board with my scholarship, and my parents say it would be dumb to give that up for… for whatever.”
I’m not surprised that he has a full-ride scholarship. He’s not just smart, but he’s a hard worker. He absolutely deserves whatever the university is giving him.
There are more questions I want to ask. I want to know everything about him—as much as he wants to share, anyway. But we’re pulling out of the parking lot now, and I have to keep my eyes on the road and my hands on the steering wheel.
Mostly.
I want to pull the car over, to delay the short drive from the bar to the campus. My mind is racing, but I can’t come up with a good excuse that doesn’t involve both of us getting naked.
So I drive.
Silently.
Hating that the time is passing too quickly. Hating that this crazy night has gone so far off track. Hating that Colton is obviously uncomfortable with me right now.
When we stop at the last red light before the campus, I reach over and put a hand on his leg, just above his knee. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself.
“You did the right thing tonight,” I say. “I don’t mean the part about coming with me. I just mean… you don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do. Ever. No matter who is asking.”
“I know,” he says. His voice is so quiet that I wouldn’t have even heard his reply if I hadn’t been studying his face so intently. “But thank you for…” He hesitates, meeting my eyes again before he continues. “For looking out for me. I’m glad you were there tonight.”
The light changes and I have to keep driving the short distance to the campus parking lot. I’ve only got a couple more minutes with him at the most, and even though I feel like I need to offer him something more, something like an explanation for whisking him out of that bar just to drop him off again so soon, but all I can manage is more awkward silence.
I’ve never had a problem expressing myself before—hell, my job is to talk, to teach, to discuss. But being near him makes me second guess everything I know about myself. I’ve already done things tonight that are so far outside the bounds of what is appropriate between a teacher and a student that I’m not sure I trust myself to speak, to move, to even think of anything else.
And that doesn’t even count the things I’d like to do with
the timid, uncertain young man sitting next to me.
“We’re here,” I say, stating the obvious as we pull into the parking lot. I find a spot and bring the car to a stop, idling with my hand on the keys, silently arguing with myself about whether to turn off the ignition.
I can’t stay here—not even for a little while. Not even just to talk.
Not for anything.
The risk of being seen by another student is simply too great. And for what? So I can say I spent a few more innocent seconds with Colton?
As ridiculous as it seems, that’s exactly what I’m considering.
“Thank you for the ride,” he says, the moonlight hitting his face and making him look absolutely angelic. “I guess I should probably be going…”
I nod, but I can’t bring myself to agree with him out loud. I don’t want him to go.
And even though he’s the one who said it, he still isn’t moving, still isn’t even reaching for the door handle.
I shift in my seat until I’m painfully aware of how close we’re actually sitting. So close I can hear each shallow breath he takes. So close I could probably hear his heart beating in time with that deliciously fluttering spot at the base of his neck—that is, if my own heartbeat wasn’t pounding relentlessly in my ears.
“Colton,” I begin, then stop myself.
What am I going to say?
What can I say?
I don’t want to end the night here and now but what choice do I have?
“Nick…” The breathless way he says my name has my cock throbbing hard against my leg. Fuck, I want him.
And for the first time tonight, I’m absolutely sure of one more thing.
He wants me, too.
I can hear it in his voice.
I can see it in his eyes.
And right now? In this moment?
Fuck it.
I’m tired of fighting it.
My eyes drop down to his pretty lips and he must see the conflicted emotions raging across my face because those lips part and he leans in closer.
“Please,” he whispers, the urgency in his tone making my cock throb again. Hard.
It’s all I need to hear.
I can’t deny him—won’t deny him. Not even if I wanted to. Not ever.
Our lips meet and I’m in fucking heaven. This is exactly what I need, exactly what I’ve been fantasizing about for too long.
A tiny whimper escapes the back of his throat and I kiss him deeper, my cock painfully throbbing as it tries to rip through my pants. I need to get out of this car. I need to get closer to him. I need—no.
I need to go.
This can not happen.
Not here. Not in front of the dorms where one of my other students could walk by and look into the window of my car at any moment.
Fuck.
I break away from our kiss even though everything inside me wants to keep going. He looks at me with those beautiful eyes, his pupils blown and his lids so heavy that he looks like he’s drunk off more than just the liquor he’s had tonight.
I feel it too, though. That intoxicating kiss has gone straight to my head. And my crotch.
“Nick?” he’s blinking now as if trying to focus on me. The arousal on his face has been partially replaced with a look of confusion. “Should we… can we…”
I shake my head, afraid of what he’s about to ask. Because if he invites me up to his room, there’s no way I’m going to turn him down.
“You should go,” I say before he has a chance to speak again. “Now.”
I can see the pain from my words flash across his face, and I instantly hate myself for causing it, but it’s for his own good. I might be the one who would get in trouble for what we’re doing, but he would get caught up in it, too.
I just can’t risk it.
Not tonight.
He doesn’t say another word. He simply nods and opens the car door.
I watch as he gets out and starts walking up to the dorm building, half-hoping he’ll turn around and flash me that smile that I love so much, or at least give me a little wave.
But he doesn’t look back. He doesn’t smile or wave.
And that’s fine. I shouldn’t expect it. I damn sure don’t deserve it.
The things I want to do to him are wrong. I can’t give in.
But fuck.
I still have to see him tomorrow in class. And the next day. And the next.
I’ve been good tonight. I made myself stop before things got too out of hand.
If something like this happens again, though?
I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself again.
I’m not sure if I’ll even try to stop.
Chapter Six
Colton
The fluorescent classroom lights are too bright.
The sunlight streaming in through the windows is too bright.
The people sitting around me are too loud.
I should have just stayed in bed this morning. I can’t even remember why I thought it would be a good idea to get up, throw on some clothes, and come to class.
Thank God I took a shower last night—though if I’m being honest, that was more to do with a need to relieve some sexual frustration than a desire to get clean.
In fact, I had been sorely tempted to put the shirt that I wore last night on again this morning, just so I could keep the faint scent of Professor Bradshaw’s cologne close to my skin for a little while longer.
I know. So dumb.
But I can’t help myself. Whenever I’m around him, it’s like my brain just sort of short circuits and all I can think about is the way he talks to me. The way he looks at me. And touches me.
The way he kissed me.
Professor Bradshaw looks up from his desk and his eyes immediately find mine. It’s almost as if he can tell I’m thinking about him.
Wishful thinking, I know. He’s probably just looking up because I’m staring at him like a crazy person.
Which, God, I seriously need to stop.
But that kiss happened. That wasn’t just wishful thinking—well, it was, but it was wishful thinking coming true, so that doesn’t count.
What does it mean, though? It’s not like I seduced him. He had to want that kiss, too… right?
The bell rings and everyone around me stands up, but I’m still in a sort of daze.
First of all, why does everything have to be so loud today?
Can’t we just… not talk? Not move? Not do anything to make my raging headache any worse?
But then as I finally start to gather my books and stand up, I realize I’ve got an erection that’s so hard it’s almost painful. That seems to be my body’s default response these days whenever I think of Professor Bradshaw.
It doesn’t even have to be sexual—although if I’m being honest, most of the time it is.
Still, my body isn’t doing me any favors today. First the hangover from hell and now this.
I stay in my seat, waiting for everyone else to begin filing out of the room before I even attempt to stand up again.
Professor Bradshaw is looking at me. I can feel it, even though I don’t dare to even glance in his direction again. Feeling the heat—whether I was imagining it or not—from those dark, brooding eyes will only make my predicament worse.
Still, he has to be wondering what I’m doing. Probably wondering if something is wrong with me. Or—oh, God—wondering if I’m intentionally staying behind.
What if he thinks I want to talk about last night?
What if he thinks I’m upset?
No.
Nope.
I have to get out of here. Like, right now.
I start to make my escape, doing my best to cover the way-too-obvious tent in my pants with my books as I angle my body away from the professor’s desk.
“Colton, wait.” His voice is quiet but commanding, and I stop in my tracks as a tiny whimper escapes the back of my throat. “May I see you for a moment, please?”
&
nbsp; “Okay,” I say, but I still haven’t moved, still haven’t turned to face him. “What, um… actually, can it wait? I have to—”
“No.” His voice is louder this time, and I can’t help but look as he stands up from behind his desk. “It really can’t wait. I… need you—need to talk to you. Right now.”
Oh, God.
Oh, God.
I swallow hard.
He’s staring at me and I’m finally staring back. My legs start to move, to carry me closer even though my brain is screaming that I should turn and run. He just wants to yell at me, to tell me that last night was a mistake, that it can’t ever happen again.
Or maybe he wants to lecture me about drinking, about going out when I should be studying.
Whatever he wants to say, it can’t be good. He already sounds angry. He looks angry.
“I’m sorry,” I say, hoping he’ll at least go easy on me if he can see that I regret what happened. Except… I don’t regret it. Not even a little. I want it to happen again, and oh my God, that thought makes my dick start to strain against my pants all over again. “I know I messed up…”
I might not mean it, but I know it’s what I’m supposed to say. It’s what he wants to hear.
“Wait,” he says, holding up a hand as he closes the space between us with a few quick steps. “Don’t. You didn’t mess up last night. I did.”
He’s so close to me that I can hear him breathing. I can feel the heat from his body. I can barely stop myself from reaching out and touching him as I look up into his eyes.
I don’t know what else to say. I feel like I should probably just turn and run—and then keep running until I can get all of these crazy thoughts and hopeless fantasies to die down.
But I don’t turn away. I don’t run.
I can’t let him think that I’m upset with him. That I somehow didn’t want his help. Or his guidance. Or his kiss.
Or so, so much more.
“Please don’t say it was a mistake,” I whisper, my voice so low that I can barely hear it myself. “Please, just… don’t. I know it sounds dumb. I know it probably didn’t mean anything to you, but—”
“It did.” Those two words shut me up immediately as he reaches out to push an unruly strand of hair away from my forehead. “It meant a lot to me, Colton. But I crossed a line that I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry for that. I should have had more self-control. I shouldn’t have betrayed your trust like that.”
Teaching Him Page 3