Passionate History

by Libby Waterford

  “I…I love you, Aidan. I know it’s incredibly fast and we’ve only started to truly get to know one another, but I think I’ve actually loved you for five years. I just didn’t know it.”

  Aidan took a deep breath to calm the wonderful racing of his heart.

  “Bree, I do know you. I know what a quick, fresh mind you have, how your eyes light up when you’re trying to convince a roomful of apathetic students your take on Titian’s color choices is the right one. I know how gorgeous your hair is when my hands are in it and I’m pumping into you. I know you’re fearless and creative and you like the outdoors and children. I know I love you, I started falling the first time I saw you, and I didn’t know what to do with the feeling because it was so out of place. But you’re back in my life—you never really left—and I need you to stay in it.”

  “It’s going to be messy.”

  “God, I hope so,” he said fervently.

  “Wow. Then do you think you can pull over?” Bree seemed extremely calm, considering they’d just pledged their love to one another.

  “We’re almost to the hospital,” he said.

  “I’m texting my sister I’ll be there in a little bit. Please, stop the car.”

  Aidan obeyed, steering the car into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant. He could literally see the gray tower of the hospital building down the highway.

  “I need to kiss you.” Bree performed a slightly acrobatic move to straddle him where he sat, then kissed him with parted lips. “I need you inside me.” She kissed his neck. “I need you, period.” Her mouth returned to his.

  He groaned, his cock hardening instantly at her words, kissing her with everything he had. She felt so perfect on top of him; he never wanted to move from behind the wheel of his battered Camry. He squeezed her ass, and felt how cold she was.

  “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” he murmured. “Think we can manage it?”

  Bree glanced outside. The windows to the car were all clouded with condensation. They were as secluded as they could be in a parking lot on a Sunday evening. She executed another twisting movement, and when she settled onto his lap, she was completely naked from the waist down, wearing only his sweater and her bra on top. She swam in the cardigan, allowing him a fine view of the tops of her breasts peeking out of the same bra she wore the night before. He was getting very fond of that particular bra. He might have it bronzed.

  He told her so, and she laughed softly, which made him even harder. He proceeded to push it down, exposing her nipples to the air, where they beaded instantly.

  “Let me warm them for you.” He took one nipple and as much of her breast as he could fit in his mouth and suckled her, enjoying the panting noises she made as he laved her flesh. Unbearably aroused, he buried his face against her ample chest. He switched to the other plump mound, turning his head side to side so he could quickly attend to one and then the other. He felt her wet pussy through his trousers. She was soaking him with her desire, and he was so hard he could burst right through the fabric that held him in.

  He bucked his hips up, slamming her against his crotch, feeling her moan and bounce in front of him, desperate to relieve this pressure. They rubbed against one another for a moment, but he didn’t want to come, so he held her away from him while he undid his belt and top button. Her back hit the steering wheel, and a quick blast of the horn had them both laughing breathlessly. She helped him spring his erection from his pants, and the feel of her hand around him nearly did him in yet again. God, she drove him so close to the edge he had to bite his lip to keep from coming in her hand like a green schoolboy.

  She was as eager as he, apparently, because without preamble, she guided his cock to her pussy and slid down the length of his shaft, taking him up to the hilt. He was in heaven, and he blinked away a hot tear that appeared at the corner of his eye at the sheer relief of feeling her wet, warm flesh around him. She moved first, sliding up and down, stroking her hands through his hair and along his shoulders, where she clamped on so she could start up a rhythm. Her gorgeous face was right in front of his, and he took her mouth in kiss after kiss, wanting her connected to him with her breath and her sex. He could feel her start to lose control, so he stroked his tongue as far as it could go in her mouth, his hands on her breasts for purchase as they bucked in desperate unison. She clutched his shoulders frantically. The pressure built around his cock, and then Bree moaned into his mouth as she came. He let himself follow, pumping deep into her. He couldn’t stop moving, even after the last drops had been wrung out. His hands roamed her curves. He was incredulous that she was his, body and heart, and maybe even soul.

  Apparently, he wasn’t the only one affected by the intensity of their union. She put her head on his chest, and he felt her shake a little. She was crying.

  “Love, what is it?” he asked, overcome, her tears making him want to cry himself.

  “I love you.” She sniffed a little.

  “I love you, too,” he said. “Now, love, I’m not meeting your entire family smelling like sex, so maybe we should go clean up.”

  “Luckily, we’re right near a burger joint.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll smell like chips grease instead.”

  “Hey, don’t knock French fries.” Bree started dressing in her damp clothing as well as she could, while Aidan cleaned himself up with some stray napkins.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Ross.” He handed her a napkin.

  “Why thank you, Professor Worthy.”

  He cringed at the name. “Please, I’m never going to be your teacher again.”

  “I don’t know…it was kind of hot. Maybe we could reenact that night sometime, huh?”

  Aidan flashed back to the evening he’d taken her from behind over his desk and started to get hard again. “You are a minx.”

  “I’m your minx.”

  “All mine,” he said.

  They sealed their agreement with a kiss.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Hello! Thank you so much for choosing Passionate History. I hope you’ll find this sexy, funny tale of art history lovers as compelling as I do. Aidan and Bree are perfect for each other, except for the fact that one is the other’s professor, and there are some lines that you just don’t cross. Bree figures that if she’s graduating the next day, he’s not really her professor anymore and all bets are off. What follows is a torrid encounter involving high heels, Scotch, and new uses of Aidan’s desk; I hope your e-reader doesn’t steam up while you’re reading! Of course, their passionate past doesn’t stay in the history books, when Bree comes back to campus for her five year reunion and runs into her ex-professor/lover.

  I just visited my own alma mater for a reunion (let’s not count the years) and it was such a rush to be back where my youthful adventures took place and wonderful memories were made. During reunion weekend, emotions run high and inhibitions are loosed, and it’s not hard to imagine why Aidan and Bree can’t seem to keep their hands off one another.

  Please share your thoughts on Aidan and Bree’s story or relay any borderline inappropriate crushes you might have had in school. I’d love to hear from you at libby@libbywaterford.com.

  Cheers!

  Libby

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