by Skye Warren
He waited, because it seemed like she might not trust him. There were a lot of reasons he was the wrong man for her, but not because he would betray her.
Her laugh was breathless. “Okay, I guess it does mean that. I just…have some trust issues. It’s just that you’re strong and secure, and I’m…well, I’m a train wreck, basically. I don’t have enough money in my account to cover rent, and it’s due in five days.”
“I can help you with that.”
“No. Absolutely not. That wasn’t some kind of sly request for a sugar daddy. I don’t want your money, especially now that we’re sleeping together.”
“It wouldn’t be like that.”
“That’s exactly how it would be. Dirty and cheap.”
He refrained from telling her that he would give her all his money. His house, his car. Every goddamn cent in his bank account—which would make her far from cheap. That probably wouldn’t help his case any. The words sugar daddy made him swallow hard. Was that how they were together? It made him feel like he was taking advantage of her—even more so since he hadn’t actually given her a cent since they first kissed.
“What if you moved in with me? You’re sleeping here almost every night.”
He already hated every time she left. Then she wouldn’t have to pay rent at her apartment, which he knew from the address wasn’t in a very safe part of town.
She spun to face him, her eyes glistening in the dark. Her lips trembled. “You mean that? No, it would be the same thing. I actually want… I need us to take this slow.”
Slow? That was the opposite of how he felt about her. Every part of him wanted to claim her, to take her as his own so no other man could ferry her away when she went out into the world while he was trapped here.
“So I can sort out my life stuff, without worrying about…us.”
“No problem,” he said, achieving some level of casualness. “That’s what we’ll do.”
If it killed him, that’s what he’d do. Because there was an us, whatever that meant, and he’d do anything to keep it that way. Even stand by while she struggled financially. Christ.
The goddamned red light was still blinking, mocking his inability to communicate with the outside world. Distracted, and maybe needing to prove something about his trustworthiness even if she wasn’t ready to believe it, he pressed the button to play while she looked on.
“Hi, Blake, this is Jeremy. Jeremy Mosely, Dean of Social Sciences. You remember we spoke about the Associate Professor’s position? I know you turned me down then, and we went ahead and hired some bigwig advisor from Washington to come down for the summer semester. But wouldn’t you know, his guy got elected and now he’s backing out of the contract. Can’t change his mind and we’ve got a class without a professor. We’d love for you to reconsider…ah, who am I kidding? We’re desperate at this point. It’s only one class. Name your terms, Blake. You were always the best man for the job.”
Jeremy rattled off some phone numbers, but Blake didn’t move. Damn. He hadn’t really wanted Erin to know about that. It would only serve to highlight his uselessness. His brokenness. The fact that he didn’t have a job, beyond the occasional article in an esoteric professional journal or consulting on a grant application. Of course, the cat was out of the bag now, and if he tried to backtrack in any way, she would only look at it like he was hiding something.
A smile spread over her pretty face. “They want to hire you at the university? Associate Professor?” She laughed happily and launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “That’s amazing, Blake.”
Shit. He hugged her back and then gently set her away. “Erin, it’s not going to work out.”
“But he said you could name your terms. You think you could get an office with a window in it?”
“I don’t care about the office. I mean, there’s not going to be an office.”
Her head jerked back at his sharp tone.
He softened, pleading a little. “It’s just not a good time.”
She looked around the small cluttered space as if she were seeing it for the first time. After a long moment, she said quietly, “I see.”
Goddamn her, she probably did see. She saw the thick walls that separated him from the rest of the world, shielding him from their sight. And then what? Would she walk out and never return? Would he wish that she had, knowing some stronger, more functional man could better care for her? He couldn’t let that happen.
The inevitability washed over him, and he shut his eyes against the deluge. She wanted to go slow so she could figure out her life; the truth was he needed to do his own figuring out. Truth was he needed to do this for himself. How long could he remain in hibernation before he withered away to nothing?
His throat constricted, but he managed to say with no small amount of futility, “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. If the position is still open, I’ll take it.”
Chapter Five
Erin
A sense of rightness filled Erin as she ducked into the social sciences building. She’d been flush with anticipation all through her morning classes, knowing she would get to see Blake at lunchtime.
She had been busy working for a maid service that sent her to fancy homes around the city. Between the new job and studying, she was exhausted. That didn’t stop her from driving to Blake’s house almost every evening.
They were consigned to the night, with takeout and a movie downstairs. They’d tear open the fortune cookies, adding “in bed” to whatever it gave them for the future. Soon life will become more interesting…in bed. And then Blake would set about proving it true in a languorous lovemaking session in his bedroom until the sun streamed between his blinds. Blake had joked that he was a gargoyle, turned to stone at sunrise.
A not-so-subtle reference to the scars marring his handsome face.
This was different. Blake had accepted a position as a temporary adjunct professor with the university. Now she would get to see him in the daytime.
She balanced two lattes from the vendor outside, slipping through the heavy crowd of students exiting the lecture rooms. A few banded together in small lines in front of the closed office doors. Office hours most commonly ran during the middle of the day between the usual blocks of class times. They began the week before classes started, to allow students to meet their new professors.
In Erin’s case, she had gone to see her advisor, who she already knew from previous years. He was smart and unassuming, so she liked him. He’d given her feedback on her preliminary ideas for the final research paper. She would incorporate his critique into her outline over the next few days, and he would sign off on it when school began.
She had one more stop to make before she left campus.
Professor Morris. The name made her flush with sexual heat. Probably because she’d called him that when he went down on her last night.
His position was temporary, but the letters were freshly engraved on the frosted glass of his office door. They must be hopeful he’d stick around beyond the summer semester.
Voices came from inside. Damn. Someone had beat her to him. Ah well, better that way. Then he could spend the rest of his office time with her. Oh, she knew he had a job to do. Amusing Erin Rodriguez wasn’t why the university had begged him to be an adjunct professor. But it was the first week of classes; how many questions could they have?
Someone jostled her in the hallway, and scalding coffee spilled onto her hand.
“Ouch,” she muttered.
A shadow moved in the office, then another. So there were a few students in there, chatting up the new professor to get in his good graces. With a start, she realized that must be exactly how she looked, coming to bribe him with a coffee. A blush heated her cheeks far more than the hot liquid could. If only they knew what she really did for him.
But no one could know.
They had agreed not to tell anyone. More accurately, she had talked him out of disclosing their prior relationship. The position woul
d be toast if the university knew he had a sexual relationship with a student, even if she wasn’t his student. It was an ethical black mark, but no way was she letting him get out of his return to society.
Nor would she allow their relationship to jeopardize her graduation.
One short semester. Only six weeks and they’d both be free. They could have a relationship out in the open. Maybe she would actually move in with him, once she had a job that could pay for her share of the bills. Bliss.
The hallway thinned to the occasional straggler.
Finally the office door opened, and two girls tumbled out, a flurry of tiny tank tops and scrunchies, the kind of adorable, I-just-threw-this-on look that Erin always envied. They barely spared her a glance, but some sense of propriety held her back from rushing inside before the door swung shut. No need to draw attention to her double-fisted coffee routine.
Acting casual, she hitched her backpack on her shoulder and reached for the latch on the door. With her back turned, she heard them speak.
“Did you see his face?” one of them said, giggling.
“I couldn’t stop looking, and not in a good way,” the other replied.
Erin froze. She held the door handle, but she was stunned by their awful words. They weren’t making any effort to be quiet, despite the fact that they’d only made it two feet away. She wasn’t sure if Blake could hear them from inside, but if she opened the door right now, he definitely would.
The first girl sighed. “Yeah, but when he turned around…damn, I didn’t mind looking then. He can write on the blackboard as long as he wants.”
“Mm-hmm,” the other agreed. “That was a fine piece of ass, no doubt. As long as he faces the other direction, I could stare at him all day.”
They continued down the hallway as anger bubbled up inside her. She’d always considered herself a passable feminist; certainly outright objectification or meanness bothered her. But here it was directed at not only a man, but the man she cared about. The man she loved.
Swallowing hard, she pushed inside.
“Hey, Professor. You have a minute?”
Blake looked up from his desk and smiled. “For you, always.”
She looked at him with fresh eyes, trying to imagine him as a professor she’d come to meet, as if she were a regular student instead of his maid. One half of his face was handsome, beautiful even. The other was matted with heavy burn scars from the top of his lip to his temple. His eye was still functional, but the shape didn’t match the other side, giving him a mismatched appearance.
She liked everything about the way he looked. The bravery of his military service, the bravery he showed going out into the world despite how people judged him. How precious it was that he’d lived, that he was with her.
Suffused with sudden emotion, she shoved the coffees onto a cluttered file cabinet and launched her arms around his neck. He caught her with an oomph but soon after tightened his embrace into a hug.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asked, laughing softly.
I’m so proud of you. But she didn’t want to bring it up if he hadn’t heard those girls. He seemed in good spirits. Instead she said, “Missed you.”
“You saw me last night,” he reminded her.
She pulled back, smiling slyly. “And again this morning.”
His eyes darkened, and she felt him thickening against her belly. He was so quick to arousal, always ready for more.
Holding his gaze, she slid her hand down. His stomach was taut beneath the button-down and undershirt she’d watched him don this morning. Her fingers crossed the ridge of his belt like it was the damned Rubicon, the point of no return. They were in his office, but they were alone…and damn it, she felt the need to please him. To pleasure him after those ridiculous girls had sullied him, whether he knew it or not. She found his erection, thick and pulsing.
He bucked into her hand, groaning. “Erin. Oh fuck, Erin.”
She loved her name on his lips.
“Yes?” she asked innocently. “Is something wrong?”
He gasped out something she couldn’t understand. It didn’t matter. His body told her what she needed to know: the heat beneath her palm, the shudder of his thighs beneath the smooth slacks. The arousal that fine wool and linen did little to conceal. He needed this as much as she did. God, he looked good in a suit. She wouldn’t have blamed those girls for their gawking if they hadn’t been so cruel about his scars.
She sank to her knees, pushing him gently against the wall. Their bodies blocked the door; no one would be able to walk in and see them. But someone could try, and what would their excuse be for blocking the way? Even worse, if someone outside were very near and very quiet, they might be able to hear the ragged breaths wrenched from Blake’s throat, the rasp of his zipper as she tugged it down, the low groan as she pulled him out, skin to skin.
The risk excited her. So different from the safe circle of his bedroom. It felt, somehow, like a declaration. A statement of intent. He’s mine.
He was heavy in her hand, a weight she’d expect from a man who hadn’t been laid in months. Instead he was like this every time. Large enough to fill her palm, her sex…her mouth. A wicked smile tilted her lips.
His nostrils flared, higher on the right side than the left. “God, Erin. What are you doing to me?”
“Should I stop, Professor Morris?”
Blake
Should she stop? No, don’t stop, ever.
Wait. Blake forced the lust fever back, allowed his mind to clear and really think about what they were doing. She looked so beautiful there, with her lips a full, pouty pink and her dark eyes sultry with arousal, that he almost couldn’t control himself, almost couldn’t stop. But she deserved better than being on her knees in this dusty office where someone might walk in. She deserved a lot better than him, but now that he had her, he didn’t plan on giving her up anytime soon.
He should be able to control himself better when he was so well practiced in denial, but damn it, he wanted those pink lips on him, he wanted her sweet, warm heat, but he wanted so much more. Her moans, her pleasure.
“Are you sure we should be doing this here?” His voice came out hoarse, belying any consideration implied in his words. He wanted this so fucking bad.
She squeezed gently, making his hips jerk. She smiled, pleased with her power. “If you tell me to stop, I will.”
Ah, hell. So beautiful. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sight, but he couldn’t last for long that way, feeling the brush of her breath against his exposed cock.
“Erin.”
“Yes, Professor?”
He narrowed his eyes, feeling on the verge of some discovery, on the edge of the cliff and he would jump just to be with her.
“You like this.” Surprise filled his voice. Surprise and wonder.
A small smile curved her lips, though she didn’t answer.
“The idea that someone might walk in on us. It turns you on. It excites you.”
Her cheeks darkened with a blush. She kept her eyes trained on his cock as her hands took up a steady stroke. He wouldn’t be distracted.
“Stand up then,” he rasped. “Let me take care of you.”
She shook her head, slow and coy. God, she turned him on. She only had to look at him, to smile, and he was revved up, ready to burst. But when she was like this, seductive, empowered, he wanted to fall at her feet.
But that wasn’t what she wanted.
“And maybe the power, too,” he mused. “You like me being in control. The role-play.”
“Well, you are a professor.”
“And you’re a student. A naughty one.”
She laughed. “Am I?”
Oh yes. For her, he would play any game, pay any price, and this was no hardship at all.
He knelt in front of her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her forehead gently. “That’s right. Coming into a professor’s office and taking out his cock. Do you do that for all your teachers?”
/>
She blushed fiercely, eyes downcast. “No, sir.”
“Only me, then? This is your first time holding a professor’s cock in your hand?”
“Oh God,” she moaned. Then she righted herself. “Yes, sir.”
Fuck, when she called him sir, it made him lose his mind. “Do you think that was a wise move? I must say, you don’t seem to know what to do with it next.”
She startled at his words, jerking her hand on him. Too much, too fast—he’d blow before the game had finished.
“No, that won’t do at all.” He tsked. “Looks like I’ll have to teach you to do this as well. I hope you can be a better student now than you are in class.”
“Oh, I will.” Her eyes danced with arousal and latent humor. Comfortable with each other, she and Blake kept to their roles, the pleasure well worth the charade, but beneath that they communicated with a sly glance and familiar caress.
“You’ll be a good girl for me,” he murmured.
“Yes,” she begged, and he was lost, her willing slave in the form of a harsh taskmaster, wanting to please her in any way, any form, and illicit role-play was on order.
Slowly he stood up, running the pad of his thumb along her plush lower lip. “Then let’s put this mouth to better use.”
Blake
A glistening drop of precum formed on the tip of his cock, giving lie to the sternness he presented. She wasn’t complaining, though. He filled out his role so well, both the lovely embarrassing words and the heft in her hand. Her mouth watered to taste him, but the tease was too fun to give up early.
“I’m so upset about getting a B, Professor Morris. I’m really an A-plus kind of student.” Of course it was all a game. This wasn’t reality; it was a sex world, a pretend place of security and wholeness.
She continued, “Is there anything I can do to convince you? I’m really quite diligent when I put my mind to the task.”
His eyes were slits, his upper lip lifted in a snarl of arousal. It was scary, and that excited her. She wasn’t frightened of him. His expression was feral because his lust was wild. Underneath, the man was gentle. Exceedingly kind. In fact, she’d thought he wouldn’t play along. That he wouldn’t be comfortable playing the role she’d cast him into. But she should have known better than to doubt him. He had never disappointed her yet.