After I finished, my arms circled his neck and I arched my back deeper as I leaned in and kissed him, tasting myself on his mouth from when he’d kissed me earlier, his face buried between my thighs as he circled his tongue around my clit.
It’d been almost a week since the last time we were together, and I couldn’t postpone some intimate time together, not when my thighs burned every single second I was in his presence and not taking his dick. I wanted to make love to this man to satisfy my soul as well as my body, and just as he dropped everything to see me on Wednesday, I dropped my responsibilities to have him, to have this time together.
His powerful arms squeezed me tightly before he let me go.
I wanted to keep this man satisfied so he wouldn’t leave me, not when he could have any woman he wanted at any time. How could I have a man this gorgeous and not take advantage of it every chance I got…when I didn’t know if it was forever? If it didn’t work out and I had to move on with someone else, it would always be second best. So I should enjoy this as much as I could.
Derek Hamilton was the one.
The man I wanted for the rest of my life. The man I wanted to grow old with. The man I wanted to push to be better. The man I wanted to inspire me every single day. His family was wonderful…and I wanted them to be my family.
It felt like they already were.
He studied my gaze, like he could see my thoughts and emotions on the surface of my eyes. His hands gently gripped my thighs as the back of his head rested against the headboard. “Where did you go?”
Sometimes I asked him that question when I knew his mind wandered to work or his class. It was interesting to get that question in return because it meant he knew me so well that he knew whether I was really there…or somewhere else. “I just… I never want to lose you.”
His eyes slowly faded, taking in my sincerity and desperation. “I don’t want to lose you either, baby.”
“You’re the perfect man… I’m not sure what I did to deserve you.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t agree with a single part of that sentence. I recently looked back on the past decade of my life with regret. And you’re the one who’s put up with me with grace, who believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself, who accepts me as I am without judgment. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”
Listening to him say that made him more perfect because he really didn’t care that I had a twelve-year-old daughter, the fact that I wasn’t a successful genius like he was, that I used to live with my parents for years in a small apartment because we’d always been lower class. He was raised not to look down on people who had less than he did, raised not to think he was better than everyone else because of what he had. It was remarkable because he was one of a kind. I didn’t agree with his counterargument. Instead…I just appreciated it. “I don’t want to leave…but I need to.”
“I know.” He pulled me close and gave me a final kiss before he released me. “Don’t ever feel bad that you can’t spend more time with me. You’re worth all the time apart, worth all the lonely lights, and I don’t ever wish I could replace you with someone else. I don’t ever miss my previous life. A little bit of you is better than all of someone else.”
9
Derek
I finished the lecture then turned to the class, silently asking them to lob questions at me because I chose to spend my office hours in the classroom rather than my office at the university. I didn’t even use it…not once. With my arms crossed over my chest, I stared at them.
They looked through their papers before someone fired off a question.
“What are you working on now, Dr. Hamilton?” Jeremy asked from the second row, one of my brightest students.
“We’re here for you. Not me.” I moved to the front of the desk and leaned against it, my arms still crossed over my chest. It was getting later in the season, so now I wore warm clothes all the time, usually sweaters and jeans. Most other professors wore blazers and sweater vests, but I wouldn’t change for a stupid dress code. I didn’t need the wardrobe distinction to keep the authority in the classroom. “But since no one else has a question yet…” I glanced at Emerson, who sat in the corner of the first row, working on things while looking at me on and off, always a smile on her lips when we made eye contact. She was in high-waisted jeans, brown boots, and a white sweater with a brown belt…looking gorgeous as always. Other than the faded scars on her stomach, it was hard to believe she’d given birth to someone. Her figure was fit and tight…and her body definitely didn’t feel like she’d given life. “I completed a rocket design, and once it’s completed and tested, it’ll be transferred to NASA. I recently started a project on a new rover that should be deployed to Mars within a year. Satellite images have shown pools where water is located under the surface, and we need a device that can allow us to reach the area and collect samples. So now, we’re trying to design something with those capabilities. It’s been a bit of a head-scratcher so far.” The only reason I brought up the issue was to inspire them further, to show them how education could be applied to do remarkable things. It was something I hadn’t valued before, until Emerson convinced me of the implications.
They were all quiet, but the looks on their faces showed how excited they were.
“Can we see what you have so far?” Jeremy asked.
Brad raised his hand but spoke out of turn anyway. “Can we help or contribute at all?”
“Can we see the rocket when it’s built?” another asked.
My eyes shifted around the room as they asked questions, but I didn’t answer any of them until they quieted down. “I have never taken interns. I’ve made that clear.” My time was already stretched so thin that I simply didn’t have the resources to mentor someone, and I couldn’t ask my engineers to do that either. We had shit to do, despite the program Emerson was developing after my TED Talk. “But the rocket should be completed within a few months. I’ll invite you guys to take a look at it and witness the test launch.”
“Awesome.” Jeremy turned to Todd beside him, and they talked excitedly together. The other students did the same.
I watched them and waited for their voices to quiet down. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. You won’t be able to work on these kinds of projects until your education is completed, so I suggest you ask your questions and make sure you’re as prepared as possible.”
At the end of the day, we drove to my penthouse.
I was supposed to tutor Lizzie in a few hours.
My heart rate had been a bit high all day, and even when I thought about something else, it was always there, sitting in the back of my mind. I’d just taught a classroom full of students that afternoon, and I told myself that it was the same situation…just with a younger student.
That was all.
Ronnie pulled up to the curb so I could get out.
Emerson’s hand moved to mine. “Don’t stress about it. She’s a great kid.”
I turned back to her and stared for a while. “Yes. But she’s your kid…so I’m a bit nervous.”
“It’ll be fine. She’s easygoing.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m just worried she won’t like me.”
“She will, Derek.”
“And if she doesn’t?” I didn’t see how this could work if her daughter didn’t like me. Emerson’s devotion was to her daughter, and if the two of us couldn’t get along, it would never work…and I would lose her.
She squeezed my hand. “She will. I promise you, she will. Just be yourself.”
I nodded before I pulled my hand away. “I’ll see you later, baby.”
She grabbed my arm and pulled me back to her, pressing a kiss to my lips before she let me leave.
I kissed her back, feeling a sudden wave of peace, a gentleness that calmed my uneasy heart. My eyes closed and my hand cupped her face, indifferent to Ronnie in front. “See you soon.”
I sat at the dining table with my elbows on the surfac
e, staring at the painting on the wall, my heartbeat slow but the anxiety potent in my veins. My eyes stared without blinking, playing out all the different scenarios in my head. I had a classroom full of students, but they were adults, and I’d never tutored someone one-on-one before.
There was so much riding on this, to top it off.
I felt like I was about to launch a rocket, and I had to hold my breath and hope it didn’t explode.
A knock sounded on the door.
Fuck, here we go. No turning back now. I sighed as I left the table and crossed the room to answer the door.
They stood there together, Lizzie at her mother’s side, her brown hair slicked back into a ponytail. She wore a sweater and jeans with sneakers, a beautiful young girl who would someday drive men crazy the way her mother drove me crazy. Their likeness was undeniable, and since Lizzie was almost as tall as Emerson, they would soon look like sisters, the way my father and I looked like brothers.
I just stared at her—at a loss for words.
Emerson smiled as she walked inside, her daughter coming with her. “Thank you for offering to tutor my daughter, Derek. I really appreciate it.” She closed the door because she knew I would just leave it open.
My heart rate increased as I looked at Lizzie.
She was going to hate me.
Lizzie started to look uncomfortable, like she thought I hated her too.
I cleared my throat. “I don’t mind at all…happy to.” I turned to Emerson, sick to my stomach, weak, terrified…a fucking mess.
“Take a seat at the table, Lizzie.” She placed her hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be back to pick you up in an hour.”
“Alright.” Lizzie walked to the table, her big backpack covering her back.
“And be good,” Emerson said. “Derek is doing us a great favor.”
“Okay, Mom.” Lizzie barely suppressed her attitude as she pulled out a chair and put the backpack down.
I turned back to Emerson.
Her eyes softened as she looked at me, and she placed her hand on my arm to tell me that it would be okay, that everything would be fine. “I’ll see you soon.” She squeezed me before she walked out.
I turned back to the table and stared at Lizzie’s ponytail, releasing a loud sigh before I approached the table.
She unzipped her bag and pulled out her textbook and notebook.
I pushed my stuff to the side, rigid and uncomfortable, unsure what I should say to her first.
She opened the textbook to the right chapter. “Look, I’m not smart at all. So, don’t expect this to go anywhere.”
My eyes narrowed as I looked at her, surprised she had such low confidence when her mother was a titan. “I think that’s a harsh thing to say…not smart at all. And it’s incredibly inaccurate.”
She pulled out a pencil from the small pocket in her bag then looked at me.
“No one is an expert in everything.” I grabbed her worksheet and pulled it closer to me. “And no one is incapable of becoming an expert in anything they want to be an expert in.”
She continued to look at me with her observant blue eyes. “Well, I know you’re, like, a super genius, and I’m nothing like that.”
“Trust me, I’m not a super genius.” I looked at the first problem on the page, which had been marked in red ink everywhere because her teacher butchered her errors instead of writing out what she should have done instead. How was she supposed to learn if they failed to teach? I would never do that for my own students because, as graduate students, they were expected to be perfect on their own, but a seventh grader was different.
“Don’t you build spaceships and stuff?”
“I guess rockets and rovers are spaceships.” I read through the problem before I turned it back to her. “First of all, your teacher seems like an asshole.”
Her eyebrows rose high up her face like she couldn’t believe what I said.
Fuck, I forgot I couldn’t talk that way to a child. It hadn’t taken me long to fuck up. “Sorry…”
She chuckled. “He is an asshole, so don’t be sorry.”
“Don’t tell your mom I said that.”
She grinned. “Deal.”
I didn’t even use the textbook.
The information in textbooks hadn’t been updated in decades, and the only reason they produced new editions was to make money. It was fucking disgusting. Lizzie and I worked on our own, using the problems Lizzie had been assigned.
After we got going, I focused on what we were doing rather than the fact that she was Emerson’s daughter. “Don’t use cosine. Use this instead.”
“But the teacher said I’m supposed to use this—”
“Your teacher is stupid. Do it this way.” I wrote it out for her and showed her how the problem would work. “Look, you get the right answer in fewer steps.”
“Ooh, that makes sense.” She pressed her pencil to the problem and kept going.
I walked her through all the steps and let her have an opportunity to get there on her own first. She faltered sometimes, but she was dramatically better than before. “This is a lot easier than I thought it was.”
“People don’t fail classes because they’re stupid. They fail because they learn differently. Teachers don’t have the time to take that into account in the classroom, so they have to teach to the majority, which does a disservice to everyone else. Annoying.”
“Yeah…”
“Do the next one. I won’t help you this time.”
She stared at the problem. “But this one is hard…”
“You can do it.” I took her notebook and wrote down the steps I had taught her, letting her reflect back on it as she worked, just the way Emerson wrote out the steps for me at the book signing. “Use this.”
“Okay.” She stared at the paper for a while before she started to move her pencil.
When I realized I was just hovering over her and staring, I turned away and looked out the window. The sky was cloudy, and it was almost dark. The lights were starting to shine out from the windows of the buildings.
Her pencil scratched against the paper.
Once I wasn’t working on something, I started to get nervous again, thinking about the fact that Emerson’s daughter was sitting beside me. I had no idea if she liked me, thought I was a weird nerd…or whatever her opinion could be.
“Done.”
I turned back to her and pulled the paper toward me. I scanned through all the steps and checked her work and then her answer. “You did it.” I grinned in triumph then turned to her. “See? You got this.”
She didn’t smile, but she dropped her gaze and her cheeks turned a little red, like the praise meant something to her, even though she tried to pretend it didn’t.
“Let’s do another one.” I pushed the paper back toward her. “Two for two. I know you can do it.”
She smiled before she grabbed the pencil and started to work.
This time, I watched her, feeling a sense of pride that I’d actually helped her, that she’d actually listened to me and allowed me to help her improve. We worked together and made progress. It was a good feeling.
Emerson knocked on the door after what felt like five minutes.
An hour had already passed?
She let herself inside. “How’s it going?”
Lizzie started to pack her things back into her backpack. “Good! Derek is a much better teacher than mine. That guy’s a dumbass—”
“Lizzie!” Emerson marched to the table, her eyes wide and furious at her daughter’s comment. “That is no way for a young lady to speak, especially about her teacher. I was going to take you to your favorite burger place, but forget it now.”
“Whoa, wait.” Lizzie turned to her. “I’m sorry, alright?”
I tried not to smile at Lizzie’s attitude, the way food was the only thing that mattered to her at this age.
Emerson still looked mad. “I don’t want an apology. I want you to be respectful toward your teachers and
other adults.”
“But he’s not a good teacher.” Lizzie sighed and continued to put her stuff away, and she didn’t throw me under the bus and admit that I thought her teacher was an asshole too. “Whatever.” She zipped up her bag and got to her feet before she turned to me. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome, Lizzie.” I watched her walk to the door before I rose to my feet.
Emerson glanced at me like she wanted to greet me with more than just a look. “Thank you, Derek. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
I nodded and walked with them to the door to let them out. I wanted to offer to take them home, but I knew I couldn’t.
Emerson placed her arm around Lizzie’s shoulders and walked down the hallway with her. “So, learn a lot?”
“Actually, yeah,” Lizzie said. “I don’t know…when Derek explains, it makes more sense.”
I didn’t close the door because I continued to listen.
“But man, that guy is loaded,” Lizzie said. “I’ve only seen places like that on TV.”
“Lizzie.” Emerson arrived at the elevator and hit the button. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why?” she asked. “It’s a compliment.”
“It’s still rude to talk about how rich someone is.” She put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders again. “And since you had such a good session, I guess we can still get that burger.”
“Yes!” Lizzie threw her arms up in the air and stepped into the elevator when the doors opened.
Emerson chuckled then followed her inside.
When they were gone, I shut the door and walked back into my penthouse, the weight off my shoulders.
I was sitting at the dining table writing my book when my mom called.
It was late in the evening for a phone call, so I quickly answered to make sure everything was okay. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Hey, honey. How’d it go?”
“How’d what go?”
The Boy Who Has No Belief (Soulless Book 7) Page 9