I follow Derek to the study. I can’t take my eyes off his physique. He’s everything I’ve ever admired in the opposite sex—broad shoulders, generous height, and a nice manly butt. Gina thinks he’s into me. He might have been but probably not after what I said yesterday.
“Oh, I’m sorry about what I said,” I say.
“What did you say that you have to apologize for?” he asks.
“You know… sort of insinuating that you’re the kettle calling the pot black.”
He glances at me with a frown. “What precisely did you say?”
I almost don’t want to repeat it, but since I mentioned it, I have to. “Well… when I said it looks as if you’re still working on getting your life back to normal.”
He grunts thoughtfully. We make it to the study, and Derek stops before entering. He presses his back against the doorjamb, giving me just enough space to pass. I skip a breath as I walk by him. My insides feel funny, as if my soul received an injection of his.
“I see…” he says. “Well, I accept your apology.”
I sit at the square table in the same chair I sat in yesterday. “Thanks.” I nearly lose it when he sits beside me instead of across from me.
“You’re welcome,” he says.
I have to think of something to say to keep from hyperventilating. “How was your day?”
He’s watching me curiously. Oh shoot. I drop my hands onto the table. I’ve been nervously twirling my hair into a bun in order to cool my neck.
“I’ve been working on a serious project, but so far so good,” he says.
“What project?” I ask before I can take it back. That was nosy of me.
“An important one.”
“Oh.” I reach down to grab my book bag. I’m sort of glad he redrew the line I attempted to cross.
Finally we get to business. Professor Valentine takes out his condensed version of the lectures I missed and spoon-feeds me knowledge. I wonder if he knows that when he makes the long “e” sound, the corners of his mouth turn up and make him look as if he’s smiling. I never noticed in class because I sit so far away from him. Also, his teeth are the perfect shade of white.
He’s explaining the Asia-Pacific Trade Agreement. I’m not the least bit interested in the material, but I follow his every word. Time ticks by, and my head gets full. My shoulders are tight, and I swear the blood stopped circulating through my legs about an hour ago. I rub my eyes.
“Do you need a break?” Derek asks.
I take my hand away from my eyes and focus on the face of my watch. Nearly four hours have passed.
I shoot up out of my seat. “Do you mind if I stretch?” I bend my body to the left and right.
Valentine’s face has turned red. He stands. “Of course not. Um… would you like something to drink or eat?”
I check my watch again. I don’t want to leave his presence, but dang it—we’ve been at it for a while now. “Well… how much more knowledge do you need to impart?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Not riveted by the material?”
I sigh tiredly. “Not exactly.” Once again, I let the truth escape. I’m too exhausted to play coy.
He’s still smiling. “Don’t worry. Me neither.” He shakes his head as he gazes off thoughtfully. “The department thought we needed the course in order to compete with other law schools. And to justify it and make it successful, they made it—”
I smirk cynically. “A required elective.”
He’s rubbing the back of his neck while giving me that look that makes me want to run into his arms and run away from his eyes.
“Right… so… would you like water?”
I frown. He seems flustered. “Sure, water.”
“You want to follow me to the kitchen?”
I watch his chest go up and down. Is he breathing heavily?
“Um, yes,” I say.
He nods and then turns and walks out of the room. I take a step and stop. What in the world just happened? Derek continues to walk, so I have to pick up the pace to catch up to him.
I’m a few steps behind him as we turn the corner and head toward the foyer. The doorbell rings. Valentine flinches as if the last thing he’s expecting is company. He faces me, and his eyes briefly make contact with my chest then my face. He turns toward the kitchen.
“The glasses are in the cabinet on the left side of the sink. Help yourself. I’ll be right there,” he says.
We briefly make eye contact, and all of my lustful urges rise to the surface. Why doesn’t he just take me into the bedroom, throw me on the bed, and spread my legs already? I won’t tell anyone, and by the looks of it, he won’t either.
I nod spastically. “Okay.”
I hurry to the kitchen, and Valentine opens the door.
“Detective?” The professor’s tone is cold.
“Evening, Valentine.”
“What do you want?”
The detective snorts cynically. “You’re not going to invite me in?”
“No. What do you want?”
I’m surprised by Derek’s tone. I quietly open the cabinet. Part of me feels as if I have to be inconspicuous, and another part of me doesn’t want the creaking cabinet to make me miss a word of what’s being said.
“You’ve got company?”
“None of your business. Why are you here, Detective?”
I lean back so that I can get a better view. All I can see is Derek standing in the middle of the door, guarding the entrance.
“I brought some reading for you.”
Derek is now holding a large manila envelope. “What’s this?” he asks.
“It’s a Christmas present. Open it.”
I hear papers shuffle. I lean back farther to get a better view. Derek has pulled white papers out of the envelope.
“It’s an accident report,” he says.
“Uh-huh.”
“Why are you giving me this?”
“Just thought you should read it.”
Derek stuffs the white sheets back into the envelope. “Is that all?”
The detective chuckles, but by the sound of it, he’s clearly not amused. “For tonight.”
“You know, Detective, I’m waiting for you to get to the point—that’s why I haven’t dealt with you yet—but I’m getting impatient.”
The detective sniffs facetiously. “Just read that. It doesn’t get any more ‘to the point’ than that.”
Derek is silent for a moment. I can’t see his face, but by his body language, I suspect he’s a bit intrigued by the documents in his hand.
“Have a good night, Detective,” Derek finally says. He’s just about to close the door.
“Oh, by the way…” the detective says.
Derek pauses.
“Did anyone besides you have access to your wife’s car?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps,” Derek says.
The detective grunts thoughtfully. After a moment, Derek closes the door.
I panic and hurry to turn on the faucet. I don’t want him to know I’ve been eavesdropping. Suddenly, water splashes my face. I scream while trying to cover the gushing with my hands.
“Damn it!” Derek says.
The next thing I know, he’s right beside me and his big hands are covering mine. The gushing slows.
“Hold it just like this, okay?” he says.
Two things. I feel a firm bulge on my butt, and those fantastic lips of his are so close to my ear that his breath warms it.
I gulp. “Okay.”
He clears his throat. “I’ll be back. I’m going to get my toolbox.”
I nod frantically. “Okay.”
After a moment, he takes his hands off mine, and the warmth of his body leaves me. He’s gone, and I can finally ease the tension out of my body.
I look down at the front of my shirt. “Oh, damn it.”
I’m wearing a sheer bra, so my hard nipples are poking through. Sure, the cold water made them protrude, but he’s been turning me on all
afternoon. No wonder he kept looking at my headlights—they’ve been blinking! I have a sweatshirt in my trunk. If only I could run to the study, get my keys, zip to my car, and get what I need to cover up.
“Good job,” Derek says.
He’s moving fast in my direction while carrying a toolbox.
“Didn’t the plumber fix this already?”
He takes a wrench out of the box. “Yeah, but he’s supposed to come back tomorrow and put on a new faucet. He rigged this one until then.”
Damn plumber. He’s the one who put me in this awkward position.
“All right, stay still,” Derek says.
He reaches around me. His hard chest is against my back, and I inhale and hold my breath. He puts the opening of the wrench around the base of the cold water spout and turns it.
“I have an old-style faucet,” he says. “My wife wanted to keep it because she said it couldn’t be bought anymore. Well, no wonder… it’s a piece of junk. There…” He’s no longer against me. “You can let go.”
“Oh…” I let go of the faucet.
We smile at each other, then his eyes travel down to the front of my shirt.
“You’re all wet,” he says.
Is he undressing me with his eyes? My brain takes a snapshot of what I really want—his hand over my tit, squeezing and pinching my nipple until he can’t take it anymore. Then the sexy professor will grab my shirt by the hem and pull it over my head. His lips, tongue, and teeth will be so eager to consume my breasts that he’ll suck on them right through my bra.
I remember to breathe. “Right. I am.” And I mean, I’m really wet.
9
Derek is still fiddling with the sink, and I’m standing by, assisting him. He’s hanging halfway out of the cabinet beneath the sink. His goal is to turn off the water until the plumber comes tomorrow, but the pipes are so old and rusty that it’s taking him forever to do it.
“Could you give me the three-eighths-inch socket?”
“Aye, aye.” I walk my fingers across the 7/16, 1/2, and 9/16-inch sockets until I see the one he asked for. I hand it to him. “Here you go.”
He looks at me with a smirk. “You know your tools.”
“Daddy’s only child, so in some ways, he taught me how to be a boy.” I wink.
Derek’s laugh is like music to my ears. He clicks the socket onto the ratchet, and now I hear it creak.
Water is all over the kitchen, but it’s been about half an hour since I messed things up. The manila envelope the detective dropped off gets my attention.
“So why would a detective give you an accident report?” I say.
The sound of the turning ratchet stops. “Because he’s a man with a one-track mind.”
I’m caught off guard by his answer, but I put one and one together. “He asked you about your wife’s car?”
“Yes, he did.” Derek slides out from under the sink. He’s about to say something else when the doorbell rings again.
My eyes widen. “Is he back?”
Derek grimaces. “He better not be.”
He storms off toward the door. My heart is beating a mile a minute. I mean, did sexy Professor Valentine just open up to me? It sort of feels as though we were having this moment together.
He leans forward to look through the peephole. “Huh?” he says then opens the door. “Hey?”
“Hi.” It’s a woman’s voice. “Happy birthday.”
It’s his birthday?
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“Are you wet?” she says.
He looks down at himself. “I guess so.”
“Are you going to let me in?”
He turns to look at me. I can see the conflict in his eyes.
“Um, sure.” He steps back, and in walks Barbara Lipton.
I’m just as surprised to see Barbara as she is to see me. She’s wearing a tight red dress that accentuates her curves and carrying a pink pastry box.
“I brought you a cake,” she barely says while glaring at me.
Boy, if looks could kill, then I would be in a casket and buried six feet under.
“Thanks,” Derek says loudly enough to make her rip her eyes off me. “Um, you two know each other from class, I’m sure.”
“We really don’t know each other at all,” Barbara says snidely.
“Oh, well, Naomi, um, Barbara was a good friend of my....”
“Your wife, Mariah,” Barbara interrupts.
Some good friend she is, or was, always sitting in the front of the classroom, showing her crotch to Valentine. And I think I hear an indictment of Derek in her tone.
He clears his throat. “Right, um, I was just tutoring Miss Sutters, helping her get caught up. She missed a number of classes due to… um.” He scratches the back of his neck.
Barbara’s waiting for him to finish whatever he was going to say, but her eyes are glued to my wet T-shirt.
I thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll just go to the room and get my things.”
Her eyes expand. “What room?”
“The study,” Derek and I say at the same time.
I walk across the darkening living room. The sun has gone down. I can’t believe I spent the entire afternoon with Professor Derek Valentine.
As soon as I make it to the study, I stuff my notebook in my book bag. I also keep my ears open.
“If I had known you had company—” Barbara says.
“It would’ve helped if you’d called first,” he says.
I grin. Now that’s how he should put her in her place. Who just shows up at someone’s house, unannounced and with a cake? A psycho, that’s who.
“I was just missing Mariah, and I thought you were too, especially since this is your first birthday without her.”
He doesn’t say anything, but I hear him banging around in the toolbox, which makes it hard to hear their conversation.
But the clinking stops as she says, “I’m sure the two of you would’ve worked out your problems by now. You were always splitting up and getting back together.”
I think about the wedding portrait over the fireplace. A man who was having problems with his wife wouldn’t erect a shrine to her, would he?
“Right… well thanks for the cake.” He sounds as if he’s trying to get rid of her.
“How about we put some candles on it?”
The cabinet opens, and I hear plates clink and silverware rattle in drawers.
“All right, I’ll be back,” Derek says after a moment.
I hang my bag on my shoulder when Derek shows up in the doorway. Our eyes lock. He looks so scrumptious, standing there smiling.
I smile back.
“Sorry about the intrusion,” he says.
I lift a hand. “It’s okay.”
“And my faucet apologizes for wetting your shirt.” There he goes undressing me with his eyes again.
I’m pretty sure my face has turned red. “No problem.”
Awkward silence lingers.
“So, tomorrow’s class. How do you feel about it?” he says.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I think I’ll be able to follow.”
His lips part while he stares into my eyes for what feels like an eternity. “Good,” he finally says.
The air is so thick. It feels as if we should make out feverishly or something.
Barbra calls his name.
“I’ll be right there!” Derek shrugs. “She’s been strange ever since Mariah died. They were close.”
I want to say more on the subject of Barbara Lipton. I mean, Barbara is so breaking the girl code by being here, dressed to seduce, and feeding her dead girlfriend’s husband birthday cake.
“Well… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.
He flexes his eyebrows. “I guess so.”
I move toward the doorway, expecting Derek to give me room to pass, but instead he puts his back to the doorjamb. I have to turn sideways to pass him. Instead of turning my back to him, I let what he
’s been staring at all day brush against his chest. I can’t help but glance at his famous package. It’s bulging. Hot damn.
Our eyes connect in the dusky hallway before he looks toward the room to the right of us. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that Barbara showed up. Gina was right. He wants to bang, and heck, so do I.
“Um, good-bye.” I rip my eyes off his and race to the front door. Oh. My. Gosh. What is happening between us?
“What sort of knife should I use?” Barbra asks as I sweep past her.
Her mouth falls open. I’m sure she sees how flustered I am. I don’t turn back to see what Derek looks like, but the last I checked, I had him all worked up.
I swing the door open. “Good night, Professor Valentine.”
“Good night—”
I close the door behind me before he finishes responding.
10
The next day, I’m in Derek’s class. After all of this extra tutoring, keeping up is such a breeze. However, he’s quite distracting to look at. He’s wearing dark blue pinstripe pants and a crisp white shirt under a matching vest. Today I decided to sit in the front row just to be closer to him. He’s going over the Asia-Pacific Trade Agreement, and since we studied it yesterday, I feel as if I have an edge over the rest of the class.
Barbara raises her hand.
Derek stops in front of me. “Yes, Miss Lipton.”
His bulge is directly in front of my face. I sit back in my chair to put some space between his crotch and me, and I scratch my neck nervously.
“I was wondering if you could list the member countries of the agreement on the board,” Barbara says.
“Of course.” Derek walks to the whiteboard.
Phew… now that his famous crotch has walked away, I can ease the tension out of my body. I wonder if he knows that it’s so big and distracting. Probably not.
I follow the rest of the lecture, and within no time, we’re dismissed. I put my things in my bag and stand. I’m glad I took Derek up on his offer for extra tutoring. I’m all caught up.
“Naomi, can I see you before you go?” I hear the professor’s voice.
I look toward the large desk next to the lectern. He’s organizing some papers. I wedge my way through the exiting students.
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