The Handbook

by H. P. Mallory

  His eyes narrowed as he studied me. Then he pyramided his fingers together in front of him and started bouncing them against each other, one by one. “Don’t you think we need to have a talk first?” he asked as my heart thumped and then went into overdrive.

  “A talk about what?” I asked, playing the part of innocent pretty damned well, if I had to say so myself.

  “About what?” he asked with a skeptical laugh. “About what happened last night.”

  “Did something happen last night?” I asked, offering him another innocent smile even though I tried to turn it into a smirk to let him know I was playing a game.

  “I’d say so,” he answered as he dropped his legs to the floor and sat up straight in his chair, before leaning forward. “You kissed me.”

  “Did I?” I asked and then feigned a yawn. “Hmm, it must not have been that memorable because I can’t say I recall much about last night.” Then I smiled at him again. Somehow, and I had no idea how, but I was channeling someone smart, playful and confident, and she was doing a damned good job of throwing Derek off his game. Thank God for possession.

  He chuckled and stood up, immediately running one of his hands through his hair. He came around the desk and then sat on the edge of it, maybe a foot or so away from me.

  “So we’re good then?” he asked as he eyed me narrowly. “Nothing weird going on?”

  I shrugged. “We’ve always been good, Derek, no reason to stop being good now.” The words just spilled out of my mouth, and inside I was doing the victory dance because I’d never imagined in a million years that I could have sounded as collected and unconcerned as I did.

  He chuckled again as he stood up and then, gripping either armrest of my chair, he leaned down until our faces were mere inches apart. “Good, because I would hate for our working relationship to become muddled due to our sexual attraction to each other.”

  And that was when I realized what I needed to do. He was challenging me. By saying what he just had and by looming over me, he was showing me the powerful position he believed he held. He was using his physical size to intimidate me, but it wasn’t going to work.

  I didn’t say anything as I leaned forward to place my notebook on top of his desk, and then I stood up. He was forced to release either side of my chair as he, too, stood. Once he did so, maybe a few inches of air separated us. Of course, I had to look up at him because he was so much taller than I was, but I didn’t care—just in refusing to stay seated, I was illustrating that I wasn’t going to let him boss me around.

  “Our sexual attraction to each other?” I repeated with a salacious smile as I stared into his eyes, refusing to look away. “Whoever said there was any of that? At least on my side …”

  He smiled back at me and the pupils of his eyes dilated in a way that hinted at his sexual excitement. Well, at least that’s what Dani had told me a few months ago—that pupil dilation was a surefire signal that a guy was interested in a woman.

  “No one has to say it,” Derek nearly whispered as he held my gaze, neither one of us willing to cede the other victory. “It’s obvious.”

  My eyebrows reached for the ceiling. “Maybe to you it is,” I started and then cocked my head to the side as I continued to smile up at him, allowing my expression to completely contradict my words. “But I can’t say the same goes for me.”

  “Really?” he asked as he laughed in disbelief. “You were pretty convincing last night.”

  I shrugged as I leaned forward and whispered into his ear: “Beer goggles, or in my case, Vodka goggles. Apparently it’s a condition that affects everyone.”

  “Oh, is that what that was?” he asked as he stared at me, a smirk still riding his lips. He was so close to me, and his eyes were burning in such a way that I wasn’t sure if he might try to kiss me. “Because it didn’t feel that way to me.”

  “Of course it was, Derek,” I said as I sought to put some distance between us because there was no way I was going to allow him to kiss me. Not when I needed to play the part of aloof. I took my seat again and primly folded my hands in my lap as I smiled up at him, comfortable in the fact that I had been the one to break our proximity. “What else could it be?” I continued as he frowned down at me. “I mean, you’re my professor and I’m your student … your undergraduate student.”

  “I was your professor,” he corrected me as he leaned down above me, returning his hands to either side of my chair. He was turned on. I could tell by the expression in his eyes and the way that he couldn’t seem to stomach any distance between us. “And just for the record, there’s nothing stating that a professor can’t date a student, even an undergraduate one, as long as there isn’t a conflict of interest.”

  “Hmm,” I answered as I feigned interest in my nails. “So you’re telling me that you want to date me, huh?” I asked with a laugh, designed to make him feel like I was making fun of him.

  “No,” he answered immediately. “I was just pointing out the flaw in your argument.”

  “Well, just for the sake of argument, since you seem so inclined toward them, wouldn’t you say my being your teaching assistant is a conflict of interest?” I asked as I started chewing on my bottom lip, wanting to draw his attention to my mouth which worked like a charm.

  “I don’t know,” he answered and seemed flustered.

  “Well, in my humble opinion, I would say it is a conflict. And seeing as how we both value our ‘working relationship,’ as you termed it, I think it would probably behoove us to keep our distance,” I finished as I reached forward and unfolded his fingers from around my chair before placing my palm flat on his chest and pushing him away from me.

  There was a moment of complete surprise in his expression, but then he remembered himself and immediately covered it with one of cool detachment. He stood up and returned to the opposite side of the desk, where he leaned back into his chair and considered me with interest. “It’s good to see you back to your levelheaded self,” he said. I could detect a tone of disappointment in his voice though.

  “Oh, my levelheaded self never left,” I answered with a smirk.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  DEREK

  The tight, red dress hugged every curve of her lithe body. She was full and round in all the places that a woman ought to be, but slender and toned as well. She was stunning. There was no other word for her, and it burned me to admit it. Especially after our little altercation this afternoon in my office. I’d never expected her to play disinterested like she had. Instead, I’d thought for sure she would have apologized a million times and worried whether or not I was still going to consider her for the position of T.A.

  Instead, she’d kicked me on my ass, and I hadn’t been able to pull my mind off her for the rest of the day. Every time I remembered how expertly she’d played her part, I couldn’t help but smile. There was something about her that was getting under my skin. Actually, the truth was she’d already gotten under my skin, and now I wanted nothing more than to have her, to claim her. I wanted nothing else than to watch myself slipping in and out of her as I took what was mine to take. Because Nikki needed to be mine. I wanted her, and I was the type of man who took what he wanted.

  And as soon as you sleep with her, you’ll lose interest in her—just like you do with every other woman you get involved with, I reminded myself. No, it’s better to keep Nikki at arm’s length so you can maintain a good working relationship with her. Masturbate thinking about her, but don’t allow yourself to even think about doing anything more.

  Ugh, that voice in the back of my head that always had a point. That voice that was always right. That voice that I couldn’t ignore.

  I wanted Nikki, yes. I could admit that much. But I could also admit that I couldn’t have her. And that realization stung me like all the pitchforks from hell. But it was a decision I had to fully accept because it was the only decision.

  So why in hell had I invited her to dinner tonight? Of course, I’d pretended that I wanted to disc
uss the upcoming classes she’d be assisting me with because we never did get a chance to discuss them earlier, but that wasn’t really the reason I’d asked her out. The real reason was because I wanted to see her. Simple as that.

  “So when are you going to dress the part of a nerdy teacher’s assistant?” I asked as I eyed her with a faux-concerned expression. I’d just picked her up and seen to it that she was comfortably seated in my Bronco. And, of course, I’d noticed how her short dress rode up her thighs, barely covering her panties, if she was even wearing any. Truth was that I’d already checked her ass out as she’d gotten into the Bronco and I hadn’t noticed any panty lines.

  “When are you going to come to terms with the fact that your T.A. just happens to be innately sexy and there’s nothing she can do about it?” she responded, completely unfazed by my question. It seemed that whenever I tried to throw her off, she required no recovery. She eyed me with one eyebrow drawn in an unimpressed sort of way.

  God, this woman drove me crazy.

  “I’ll admit that it’s taking some getting used to,” I grumbled as I put the Bronco into drive and pulled into the street. It was true—my “relationship” with Nikki, or whatever you wanted to call it, was starting to aggravate me. I’d never had such an awkward friendship with a woman before. I wanted her so badly I could taste it. I could admit that much to myself, and I’d basically admitted it to her this afternoon. But I couldn’t have her. Mainly because I didn’t want to upset the current level of respect I had for her. And I knew, based on every other experience I’d ever had with a woman, that once we had sex, she would get attached and I’d want to run for cover. And that would be a shame the proportions of which I didn’t even want to consider. So, no, I would have to continue being her friend, and I’d have to continue talking myself down, and I’d have to continue masturbating everyday while thinking about bending her over. Fuck me, right?

  No, dickhead, I reminded myself, in the long run, it will be much better to maintain this frustrating friendship and keep her at arm’s length. So control your raging hormones and think about orphans in Uganda or dog shit or something!

  So why was I still having this conversation with myself … repeatedly? Why was I still trying to talk myself out of dating her?

  “Where are we going?” she asked as she glanced over at me, armed with her notebook, as usual. God, she was such a nerd. And somehow her nerdiness made me want her even more.

  You’ve got it bad, I said to myself, frustrated and irritated by the thought. Hmm, maybe it would be better to have sex with her even if it ruined everything? It just came down to the fact that I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last feeling like I wanted to rip her clothes off as I forced her to tell me she was all mine.

  Force her to tell you she’s all yours? I scoffed at myself. Goddamn, dude, what the hell is wrong with you?

  “There’s a new Italian place in town that I wanted to try,” I answered gruffly because I was waging a full-on, internal war with myself. When we came to a red light, I found myself looking at her hungrily. She was just so damned easy to look at! As soon as I took in her cleavage and that confidently sexy expression on her face, my jeans started to feel tight in the crotch … again. After I’d just talked myself down by thinking about huge pustules.

  Am I really getting hard just by looking at her? I chastised myself. Jesus, man, get ahold of yourself! You’re thirty-eight, not eighteen!

  “You mean Giuseppe’s?” she asked, frowning.

  “Yeah, that’s the one,” I answered, suddenly concerned because she didn’t exactly look happy to be going there. “Why, you don’t like it?” I couldn’t help but wonder if some other guy had had the pleasure of taking her to Giuseppe’s. And then I wondered who this possible asshole could be …

  “No, it’s not that I don’t like it,” she started as she appeared to be searching for the right words. “I’ve never been there so I wouldn’t know. It’s just that it’s …”

  “What?” I demanded when she grew quiet. “It’s what?”

  “It’s just expensive!”

  I shrugged as if the expense wasn’t such a big deal. Of course, being on a professor’s salary, it was a big deal, but I didn’t care how much our meal cost me. “Who cares about all that?” I asked as I smiled at her, relieved to know some other shmuck hadn’t already taken her there. “You gotta play with the big dogs more often, Nik!”

  “Oh, and you’re one of the big dogs then?” she asked, frowning at me.

  “The biggest.”

  “Oh my God,” she said as she exhaled a long breath and did her best to hide her smile. “Just don’t start getting thoughts in that head of yours,” she started as she turned to face me, her gaze resting on my hair. “Speaking of, you need a haircut,” she finished as she reached over and curled a piece of my hair at the nape of my neck around her finger.

  “Thanks for noticing,” I muttered as she pulled her hand away and I sorely wished she’d leave it there. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to feel her fingers against the sensitive skin of my neck.

  “No problem,” she answered with a smile. “Just don’t want your future students mistaking you for a homeless person.”

  I laughed in spite of myself before I remembered the conversation she’d abandoned a little while ago. “And, pray tell, just what thoughts were you worried I was getting, by the way?” I asked as I eyed her askance.

  “Oh, I don’t know … romantic thoughts,” she finished as she speared me with a pointed and challenging gaze.

  “Really?” I asked. “Haven’t we been through this already?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe, but it appears that one of us hasn’t gotten the message through his very thick skull.” Then she glanced at my hair again, reaching out to run it through her fingers. Every time she touched me, I felt the skin along my neck break out in goose bumps. “Maybe all that hair is getting in the way of your ears and, thus, affecting your auditory processing.”

  “Ha ha,” I mocked her. “Not funny. And as for getting romantic thoughts about you, I’m not, so don’t worry.”

  “Okay, just warning you,” she said with a shrug as she rolled her eyes.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then why are you rolling your eyes?”

  “Was I rolling my eyes?”

  “You were.”

  “Oh, probably just an errant speck of dust in one of them, that’s all.” Then she reached over and patted my thigh. “Not to worry, Casanova, your secret is safe with me.”

  “My secret?” I responded as I pulled into the parking lot of Giuseppe’s. The attendant was suddenly in front of my door, and I felt myself suck in a mouthful of air in response. “Jesus, they sure are prompt here.”

  Nikki laughed as the man opened my door and I unbuckled my seat belt, stepping down onto the asphalt below. When I walked around the Bronco in order to open Nikki’s door, I found her already standing in front of me. “I would have gotten the door for you,” I said, annoyed that another man had.

  “You don’t need to do that. We’re just friends, remember?”

  “Will you stop doing that?” I asked, legitimately annoyed.

  “Stop what?”

  “Acting like I can’t do nice things for you because we’re friends.”

  She shrugged. “I’m a strong, independent woman of the twenty-first century, Derek, and I can open my own door. Didn’t you learn anything in our Feminist Literature course?”

  “You’re going to give me a nervous tic,” I grumbled as I insisted on opening the door to the restaurant for her and she walked inside. I bypassed her and approached the hostess, letting her know I had a reservation. The attractive brunette checked her list and, finding my reservation, she grabbed two menus before escorting us through the ten or so tables in the small room, each covered with a white tablecloth.

  I couldn’t help but notice the heads turning to watch Nikki as she gracefully walke
d through the dining room. By the way she looked straight ahead, I didn’t think she was even aware that most the men in the room were giving themselves whiplash just trying to sneak a glance at her.

  The hostess showed us to our table, handed us our menus, and then laid Nikki’s white napkin across her lap before replacing mine with a black one to match my black pants.

  “Fancy,” Nikki said as soon as the woman walked away.

  “So what was this secret of mine that you were talking about?” I demanded, intent on knowing what the hell was going on in that sexy as hell head of hers.

  “Secret?” she repeated and shook her head, as if to say she was at a loss.

  “Yeah, you said you would keep my secret safe.”

  Then she was quiet for a few minutes as she brought her hand to her mouth and chewed on her lip while she, ostensibly, tried to figure out what I was talking about. “I can’t remember saying that,” she said finally with a dismissive shrug. “So I have no idea what I was talking about.” Then she glanced down at my menu which I was holding in front of me. “What are you going to order?”

  I wasn’t paying attention to my menu, though. Instead, I couldn’t pull my gaze away from her. There was something about her … God, I didn’t even know what it was. Yes, she was hot, gorgeous, beautiful, whatever word you wanted to call her. But I’d been with women who were equally pretty or maybe even more so. Yet, Nikki was unlike any other woman I’d ever met, and it was driving me nuts that I couldn’t figure out why.

  I have to have her, the words blared through my mind and I had to forcefully push them back. The moment the thought entered my head, I began to panic. I felt like I was relinquishing control. I was caving. And it wasn’t a feeling that caused me any level of comfort. I didn’t want a relationship. I was convinced that I wanted to be a bachelor for a very long time. So why did I…

  You want to have lots of sex with lots of women, I reminded myself. So snap yourself out of it and stop lusting after this one! Put her firmly in the friend category and stop thinking about what she feels like on the inside.