I swallowed, dreading the pained look I knew would come. “I was angry.” And foolish. I hadn’t wanted to face the truth about myself—my art would never be the same again.
She turned to me with a fire in her eyes. “Good.”
“Good?” I asked, thinking I must have heard her wrong.
“Yes. Good. Instead of suppressing your anger, your hurt, your frustration, you’re confronting it. And you’re channeling those feelings into your art.”
“But I ruined the one decent piece I had.”
“Stand back and look at it. Really look at it.” She tugged on my arm, forcing me to take a few steps back.
I tilted my head to the side, looking at it again. It was different, but it was actually… I liked it. Or at least, I didn’t hate it.
“See.” She butted me with her shoulder.
I nodded, turning to face her. “You’re right. You were right about everything.”
We stared at each other, and I tried to read her expression, her eyes. Was she just as captivated by me as I was by her? I wondered if that was why she’d asked me to pose for her. And I wondered how I’d feel when it came time to do so. I didn’t know how I was going to hide my desire for her then, and I could feel my cock pressing against my zipper, my heart pounding against my ribs. I was on the verge of stepping forward and kissing her, claiming her, but then she spun away.
“Let me just set up, and then we can get to work.” I put on some music, preparing the supplies we needed before inviting her to join me.
She stepped in front of me, filling my nose with her scent. As with every night we’d painted together, it was going to take all my willpower not to kiss her. But, hey, at least it was an effective way to silence my inner critic. I was so focused on the feel of her hand, the way her body curved to mine, that I couldn’t overanalyze every stroke of the charcoal across the paper.
We stayed that way for I didn’t know how long, her breath, her body in concert with mine. I tried to ignore the way my body felt electrified every time she was near. The way my dick was straining against my zipper to get closer to her. I was positive she could feel it, and when she pressed back against me—the movement unmistakable—I groaned.
My grip on her hand loosened, but I didn’t let go. Not when she leaned her head back against my shoulder. And not when I used my free hand to pull her even closer to me.
“Xander.” Her voice was breathless.
I splayed my hand over her ribs, using my thumb to stroke just beneath her breasts. She let out a heavy sigh, her breath shuddering as we stayed there, locked in time.
“I want to kiss you. God, I want to kiss you,” I said, holding her tightly to me.
After spending all afternoon with her, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I turned her to face me. And when I did, I saw the same desire reflected back at me.
I pulled her to me, slanting my lips over hers. She was stiff at first, but then she relaxed, giving in to the kiss. I threaded my fingers through her hair, sampling her like a fine wine. She was vivacious, effervescent, intense, and I couldn’t get enough of her.
She clutched at my shirt, kissing me just as desperately. She moaned, and it sparked a memory—that moment when she’d moaned in Professor Tate’s class. With that one sound, the reality of our situation sank in. She was a student. Not my student, perhaps, but she was a student at the school where I taught.
I took a few steps backward, knowing I needed to put some distance between us. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“No.” She shook her head, advancing on me until her face was inches from my chest. “You shouldn’t have stopped kissing me.”
Her lips glistened, the swollen petals begging me to kiss her again. I was torn between the desire to kiss her or draw her. And I’d never felt so consumed by my desire.
I dragged a hand through my hair. “Kate.” I sighed, trying to find the words. “You’re a student.”
She arched an eyebrow, stepping closer once more. “So, the ‘not my student’ rule only applies when you want me to pose for you?”
I rubbed my hand over my mouth, mostly to keep myself from kissing her again. “No. I just… I want to be sure you’ve really thought this through. I’m a professor. I’m…older.”
She placed her hands on my chest. I relaxed beneath her touch, even though my body was still wound tight like a spring ready to explode.
“I don’t care. Do our roles bother you? Does our age difference?”
“No. I don’t give a fuck about either of those things.”
“Then what—” A look of uncertainty flashed in her eyes. “You don’t want me like that.”
“What?” I grasped her hands in mine. “Are you kidding?”
She bit her lip, her doe eyes peering up at me. I wondered if she could hear my heart because it felt like it might damn near beat out of my chest.
“Angel, I want you so fucking bad. I’ve wanted you ever since the first time I saw you.”
I wanted her, but it was more than that. I needed her. And I would’ve been concerned by how much I’d come to rely on her had all the blood not rushed to my dick, making it impossible to think.
She peered up at me, her gray eyes soft and pleading. “Take me, Xander. Please.”
Those words, and the way she looked at me—this woman was going to be my undoing.
Chapter 10
Kate
* * *
He crushed my mouth with his, backing me toward the sofa as we raced to take each other’s clothes off. Shirts, pants went flying, and we couldn’t stop touching each other. When the backs of my knees hit the sofa, I sank down onto it.
Xander covered my body with his, pressing his lips, his hips to mine, his hard-on digging into me. Insistent. Needy. Wanting.
Or maybe that was just how Xander made me feel. Like a ball of need, like we were on the precipice of something both incredible and terrifying.
He kissed his way down my chest, and my nipples puckered against the cups of my bra. Oh god.
“You’re so beautiful, my angel.”
I softened at the term of endearment, but my cheeks heated, warmth flushing my skin as he ventured farther south. He kissed the sensitive skin on my stomach and sides, making me writhe and giggle.
“I’m so sorry.” I laughed, clutching at the couch so I wouldn’t try to cover myself with my hands. “I’m super—” I laughed when his scruff brushed against my skin again. “Ticklish.”
He glanced up at me, curls wild, grin askew. “Is that so?”
He ran his tongue along my stomach, lower toward my mound, which only made me giggle again. I covered my face with my hands, completely mortified. But this was new to me, and even though I was incredibly turned on—and ticklish—I was also anxious.
Xander propped himself up on his elbow. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do anything.”
“But I want to,” I said, hoping he’d realize how sincere I was. “I really, really do. But…” I bit my lip. “I need you to be patient. This is new to me.”
He smiled down at me, caressing my cheek with his thumb. “Am I your first?” His voice was gravelly when he spoke, though his gaze was tender.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I promise to go as fast or as slow as you need. I promise to make you feel good. Do you trust me?”
I stared into those bottomless blue eyes that had so captivated me since day one, and I knew the answer. “Yes.”
He slanted his mouth over mine, our tongues tangling, our legs intertwined. I forgot about anything and everything but the feel of him. The warmth of his skin where our bodies connected. The way he caressed my skin, as if he were in no rush.
He might be patient, but the need within me grew, and I found myself rocking against him. Despite the layers between us, the friction felt so good. Especially when he ran his hands over my breasts, squeezing and pinching them. But I wanted more. I wanted it all.
�
�Off. Now.” I tugged at his boxers.
He chuckled, barely breaking the kiss to say, “Yes, ma’am.”
He slid them over his hips, and his cock sprang out. It was…oh my god. It’s huge.
Another chuckle, this time darker, making me realize I’d said that aloud. But seriously, the thing was massive.
“May I?” he asked, running his finger along the top of my bra.
I sat up, pushing it off my shoulders before unhooking it and allowing it to fall. Even though he’d seen me naked before, he looked at me as if it were the first time. And I wondered if he’d always look at me that way—like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Somehow, I doubted it. At least, not if he knew the truth about the lies I’d been telling. But there’d be time to discuss that later. For now, I just wanted to enjoy this moment with him. Enjoy the fact that this incredibly handsome, talented man was interested in me. And not because of my last name or family wealth, but because of who I was.
“You are… My god, you’re breathtaking,” he whispered like a prayer.
I was too busy staring at his tattoos, tracing them with my fingers, exploring the smooth skin of his shoulders. He said I was breathtaking, but he was the one who was built like a god. Xander was no mere mortal, and everything about him rendered me speechless.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I teased, feeling both incredibly intimidated and turned on.
“Not so bad?” His hands fluttered at my stomach, the slight movement tickling me. “Not so bad?”
“Nah. Especially considering how old you are.” His age didn’t bother me at all, but it was fun messing with him.
“Old. Old?” He grabbed my hips, pulling me on top of him. “You’re going to be glad I’m so ‘old’ after you benefit from my experience.”
“We’ll see.” I smirked.
I liked this more playful, aggressive side to him. I liked seeing him let go.
I slid over his erection, relishing the sensation. I wanted so badly to just…
“I want you,” I said, amazed at my brazenness. What was it about Xander that made me bold, confident, fearless? I wasn’t sure, but I knew I liked it. “I’m on the pill.”
“I’m clean, but I have a condom upstairs in my nightstand,” he said between kisses.
It was only a few steps away, but it sounded like miles. I didn’t want to be apart from him. I didn’t want to break this spell and let the moment slip away. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
“Or we could…” I lifted up, gripping him at the base to position him, clearly suggesting that we forgo the condom.
His eyes darkened. “Are you sure? It’s only if you want to.”
I didn’t answer him with words. Slowly, with my eyes locked on his, his hands gripping my hips, teeth digging into his lips, I lowered myself.
“Oh fuck,” he said, dragging out the word as my muscles clenched and adjusted to his size.
I’d expected it to hurt, but it wasn’t as terrible as I’d feared. There was a little pinch, but then I quickly adjusted to the sensation.
Inch by delicious inch, I slid down his shaft until I felt so full, I thought I might burst. I shifted, wiggling my hips as I settled into the feeling of being so connected. So vulnerable.
“If you don’t stop moving like that,” he grunted, his fingers digging into my skin, “this is going to be over before it really gets started.”
I giggled, leaning down so my hair brushed against his chest. He closed his eyes, biting back a groan as I wiggled my hips a little more just to tease him. I’d never felt so powerful.
A few shaky breaths later, he growled, flipping us so that he was on top. His body pressed mine into the cushions, his scent surrounding me. I gasped when he thrust into me, his chest brushing against my nipples, his eyes intent on mine.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his brows furrowed with concern.
“Yes. More. Please,” I panted, feeling the pleasure building. I needed him to keep going, not stop.
I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer to me. And he sank into me, giving me all of him as he kissed me like the world might end.
“Fuck, you feel amazing. So tight.”
I kissed him just as passionately, clinging to this notion that I was the brave, confident woman he saw me as. And as my vision clouded with all the colors of the rainbow, I knew I’d never felt more free. More like myself than I was with Xander.
He threaded his fingers through my hair, pulling my mouth to his. His hands were everywhere—sliding down my back, gripping my butt, holding me closer to him. With every thrust, the intensity built.
“Oh god. Oh god,” I chanted, unable to do or say anything else.
I gripped the couch, needing to hold on to something for fear I’d float away. And as the orgasm came barreling through me, I screamed in ecstasy. Xander wasn’t far behind. His muscles clenched, abs rippling as he poured his release into me.
He fell beside me with a sigh, but he quickly pulled me onto his chest. His skin was warm beneath mine, his heart beating a strong, steady cadence. I could lie there forever.
“Are you okay?” His voice rumbled from deep in his chest, vibrating through his skin to me.
I laughed, feeling light. “I’m definitely okay.” I was more than okay. “That was…”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I know.”
I propped myself up on my elbow, admiring the angles of his jaw, the muscles of his chest. He was so beautiful, he seemed almost unreal. Like a sculpture and not a man.
“It’s not always like that?”
He shook his head, cupping my cheek, and I leaned into his touch, reveling in his warmth. “With you, it’s…something else.”
His words sent a thrill of excitement through me, and I settled back into his arms. With my cheek resting against his chest and our bodies intertwined, I listened to the steady beat of his heart. And I tried to enjoy this moment—instead of worrying about what happened next.
“Shit.” I stared at my phone, rereading the email for a third time. “Dear student, the add/drop deadline has now passed.” After that, the words became illegible.
Xander slid his arms around me from behind. “What’s wrong?”
I rushed to press the power button, hoping he hadn’t seen the email before the screen went blank. I couldn’t believe I’d missed the add/drop deadline for my premed courses. Now I was going to be stuck with them on my transcript unless I withdrew by the end of the semester. Surely I could get it together by then, right? That said, I’d been confident I would’ve told my parents by now.
I let out a deep sigh. I’d been so caught up in Xander—both literally and figuratively—the past few weeks, that I’d let everything else slide. If I wasn’t at class, I was at his studio—painting or making love. I’d never felt more creative and confident, never been happier. But, deep down, I feared it wouldn’t last.
“Kate?” Xander asked, reminding me that he was expecting an answer.
“Nothing.” I spun to face him, wanting to focus on him instead. “What’s that?” I asked, eyeing the elegant black card with a flash of gold in his hand.
He handed it to me with a smile. “The formal invitation for the opening.”
It was stunning—expensive and opulent, yet understated. I smiled when I saw his name at the top, easily envisioning his success.
“I’m so proud of you. This is going to be amazing.”
“There’s something else I want to talk to you about.” He led me over to the couch and sat me down. “When Theo was over the other day, I showed him some of your pieces, and he was impressed. He offered to help you sell or exhibit them.”
“What?” I jerked my head back, completely unprepared. “You’re serious?” I asked when he continued to watch me expectantly.
He nodded. “I know I should’ve asked you first, but… Kate, this could be a great opportunity for you.”
“I know. I, um, wow. I just can’t believ
e it. I mean, I haven’t been in art school all that long. And to have something like this…”
He frowned. “What are you talking about? You’re a junior.”
“Yeah.” I waved a hand through the air. “Right. I just meant—it’s gone by so quickly.”
“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed. “I can understand that. I was thinking—”
“Uh oh. Should I be concerned?” I teased.
He grabbed my waist, tickling me mercilessly until I pressed myself against him, kissing him until I couldn’t breathe. He made me dizzy, breathless, and restless. He made me crazy with lust, and I liked it.
When I finally withdrew, he stared down at me with hooded eyes. “I was going to suggest that we go out on Saturday—to celebrate.” He cupped my cheek with his hand, his eyes intent on my lips. “But now I’m reconsidering it.”
I arched an eyebrow, surprised by his suggestion, knowing we’d both been hesitant to be seen together. “In public?”
“Yes, in public.” He laughed. “Unless you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”
I swallowed hard, drinking in his tattoos and muscles. His dark hair and piercing eyes. “Um. No. But do you have time for that with the exhibition less than a week away?”
He glanced around, and I followed his gaze, taking in the completed pieces. There was just one remaining. “I think we deserve a little break, don’t you?”
“I thought that’s what the sex was,” I teased.
“The sex is exercise,” he said in a lofty tone.
“Ahh.” I tilted my head back. “I see.”
He dotted kisses down my neck, his lips brushing over my collarbone. “Kate,” he murmured, his scruff tickling my skin. “Go out with me. Please?”
“Yes,” I sighed, sparks shooting down my spine from his kisses.
Saturday. Saturday. What was on Saturday?
“Wait.” I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away.
“What?” He glanced up at me, his eyes hooded.
“I can’t this Saturday. I have this huge fundraising gala my parents expect me to attend.”
“Why am I just now finding out about it?” He frowned.
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