Words of Lust

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Words of Lust Page 9

by Lise Horton


  “Let me educate you here. When a guy hears things like that, it’s like a hand job for his ego. It doesn’t matter how it sounds to you. It’s music to my ears. I want you to let go with me. I want you wild and screaming and begging. I want you to tell me everything you want to do. Everything those dumb fuckers thought was nasty, we’re going to do, and you’re going to be the one to tell me what those things are. In fact, there’s just one other thing I’d rather hear.” He leaned down and kissed one breast, stopping to suck on a nipple that instantly hardened.

  “What’s that?”

  * * *

  “Do it again.” He grinned and his eyes twinkled with wicked delight. She couldn’t help but smile in response. “Already?”

  “Well, maybe give me a few minutes. That was one hell of an experience.”

  She smiled again, feeling shy but pleased. Then she glanced at the brushed-steel clock on the night table.

  “Oh, Nick. It’s really late. I have a lot to do tonight before class tomorrow morning. My gulag class starts at eight-thirty.” With a lingering look of regret, she squirmed out from under him and sat up.

  “Way to leave me hanging, Professor.” She blushed because indeed, he was once again hardening and his look was feral. He groaned with mock ferocity and she giggled.

  “Hey, it wasn’t that funny. Come on, lady, never laugh at a man with a hard-on. The results could be tragic.” He grabbed her and pulled her to him for a hungry kiss.

  She pulled away and tried to explain. “I’m sorry—it’s not that it wasn’t great.”

  “Fine. I’ll let you off the hook this time, but only if you tell me how great it was.”

  “Really great?”

  “More.”

  “Exceptional?”

  “Professor, tell me how it felt to have my cock pounding into you.”

  She shivered and blushed some more. But it was only partly embarrassment. It had given her a mysterious thrill having him be so forceful. She didn’t need to think or worry or push for more. He seemed to instinctively know what she wanted, when she wanted it. And he’d given it to her.

  “I loved it.” She took a breath and said all the things she’d been thinking. “You’re so big. And it’s been a long time—I wasn’t sure it would work—but it was wonderful. Like you owned me, like you were marking your territory. I love how carnal it felt.”

  “Definitely better. You made me hard all over again just talking dirty, Professor.” He kissed her with an echo of ferocious hunger. “I’ll give you some homework assignments so we can start experimenting. I want to see more of naughty Professor Serafina Luca. But you better be warned. I’m a tough grader. You’re going to have to work very hard or else.” Her heart beat a little harder. For a moment the entire afternoon took on a surreal quality. Who was this man, and how had she gone from sedate to insatiable in just a few days?

  “Come on, get that fine ass dressed and I’ll drive you home.” He heaved himself up and stood looking down at her curled on the edge of the rumpled bed.

  “You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine. It’s way uptown. I’ll just take the subway.”

  “Nuh-uh.” He rolled her over and smacked her bare ass with the flat of his hand. The loud report was almost as much of a surprise as the swift, hot sting. Her face must have registered her shock. He grinned down at her, eyebrow raised. Another smack sent brilliant, sparkling pain flooding through her cheek and left a burning tingle in its wake.

  “Like that, hmm?” He rubbed his hand possessively over her stinging skin as she gaped at him. “Seems like there are a lot of things we need to study.” He patted the pile of books by his bedside table and she noticed they were all from her curriculum. “Good thing I’ve got all these dirty books right by the bed. If we run out of ideas we can just flip to a page and try out what’s there.” He pulled a book of Victorian erotica out and opened it. “See, here’s where a naughty schoolgirl has to pull up her dress to get spanked. “He smacked her again a bit harder and smiled when she gasped. “Or maybe a paddle would be better. This looks like fun.” He turned the book so she could see it. “Lots to get to, so we’ll need to spend a ton of time in bed.”

  Slamming the book shut, he dropped it back on the table and ran a hand over her ass. “My palm print looks good on you.” He kissed her and whispered a heated promise. “I’m going to make you talk to me. You will tell me all your naughty fantasies. Get ready for me.”

  She was suddenly aflame with all the kinky possibilities. This was too intense to wrap her mind around, so she didn’t even try. Instead, she scooted from the bed and grabbed up her clothes. She hurried to the bathroom across the space and he hollered after her, his voice full of laughter.

  “You can run, but you can’t hide, Professor.”

  Chapter Six

  “What the fuck?”

  She stood at his side as he stared down at his truck. The glow of great sex vanished in an instant. All four tires had been slashed and it was completely out of commission. When he slammed his fist into the door of the cab, she jumped.

  “Dammit to hell.”

  “It must have been some kids. They didn’t break the windows or anything else, though.”

  “I wish I could get my hands on the little shits.”

  “Nick, I’m so sorry.” She remained a step away and he realized his violent outburst had made her nervous.

  He tried to relax his tense jaw and pulled her against him with one arm. “Sorry if I scared you. Don’t worry about it. I’m just pissed. Let’s get a cab and get you home.”

  “You don’t have worry about me.”

  “Professor, I wish you’d stop saying that, because I’m going to have to take you over my knee if you don’t.” He squashed down the brief flicker of annoyance at her stubbornness. Instead he kissed her hard, hoping to convey his point. “I’m a big macho guy, Serafina. It’s what we do.” Hell, he felt raw. He didn’t want to scare her off, especially since he had no intention of letting her back out of this thing, relationship, whatever it was. As far as he was concerned they were good together. No rhyme, no reason, but he felt how he felt. Even though it was less than a week since he’d first come to her defense.

  “Sorry.” She looked up and batted her eyes theatrically.

  He snorted. “That’s better. Come on.” He led her out of the parking lot and hailed a cab for her, shoving two twenties into her hand.

  “I have money of my own. I don’t need this.”

  Again. He ran a hand through his hair. His jaw was tight with tension and he didn’t need this. “I’m sure you can take care of yourself and I’m sure you have money of your own. I get that you want to be asked and not told. Let me have this opportunity to take care of you, okay? I like it. It makes me feel good. That’s the only reason I’m doing it. Because I want to. Now cut it out.” He leaned down and kissed her hard again before closing the door, and gave her the call-me sign as the cab pulled away. Then he returned to his truck.

  He checked out his ride, his anger boiling to the surface. It wasn’t the money it was going to cost him that pissed him off so bad, but the sense of some little pricks getting the better of him. He pulled his cell out of his pocket and called Berto. If he was home, he’d get there faster from the West Village than Vinny would from Queens.

  “Dude, I need a lift. Some little fuckers have trashed my truck and it needs four new tires.” After he’d explained the carnage, they hung up and when his brother got there within twenty minutes he thanked him.

  An hour later they’d loaded the new tires they’d purchased into Berto’s own pickup and returned to the parking lot. He was thankful for the extra muscle when he had to start jacking up his truck.

  “You should get the landlord to install some security cameras, man. Tell him to give me a call. Then you’d be able to get an ID on the bastards in case they show up again. Tell him there’ll be tenant complaints and he might be held liable for damages. That’ll convince him.” Since Berto owned a secur
ity company, it wouldn’t hurt his bottom line either.

  “Good point. There are eight tenants in this building, and they’ve all got vehicles out in the open lot. And if these kids get tired of fucking things up outside, they might try to get inside.”

  “Mention overall security to him as well as cameras outside. And lights would help. What kind of deterrents are in the building?”

  “Not many. Just a key lock. And if anyone does get inside, they can run the elevators. Between that and my place, nothing.”

  He tightened the last of the lug nuts and motioned to Berto to lower the truck. They stowed the jack, and he tossed the wrecked tires into the bed of his truck, with the feeling there was something more to the situation than just random vandalism.

  “Damn.”

  “Whazzup?” Berto was leaning against the truck, taking a slug from the bottle of blue Gatorade he always had with him.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling. It’s not just this. Drunk little fuckers would have caused more damage. This was like a personal fuck-you to me.” He looked around at all the other untouched cars. “There have been a bunch of times over the last two days when someone’s been ringing the buzzer to my apartment, at all different times. But there’s never been anyone there when I answer.”

  “Man, you watch too many of those Jason Bourne movies. Paranoia is not your friend, big brother.” Berto stretched, then headed back for his own vehicle.

  “Thanks for the help, little brother.”

  “I’m going to be late for a date, but I’ll blame it on you.”

  “Hey, I’ve done you a favor. Chicks love it when a guy performs selfless acts.”

  “I perform selfless acts all the time. It’s called going down on ’em.” He grinned. “Besides, altruism is an aphrodisiac, you’re right. I’ll get my reward tonight.”

  He rolled his eyes when his brother patted his crotch.

  “You are such a loser.”

  “Maybe. But I get a lot of head, bro. Listen, call me with a good time and I’ll come over with my kit and we can tighten up your apartment security. Grab a pizza and a few beers. I’ll even let you tell me more about your professor lady.” He waved and jumped into his own fancy ride and pulled out into the night.

  He had to smile. Berto often sounded like a reject from Goodfellas, but he was smarter than he liked people to know. After all, he was almost thirty. His brother would have to start maturing sooner or later, otherwise the whole macho, goombah thing was going to get really tired.

  He looked down at the pile of tires in the truck. He’d probably take them to the recycling center up by the cabin. He didn’t want to dump them in a landfill. Or he could use them to line the dock, which was an ever better idea. He’d planned to buy a canoe, so he could do that later in the spring. Then he could cajole Serafina into going canoeing with him. Maybe they could meander around the lake at sunset and then share some wine and dinner as they looked out over the water. Maybe slip naked into the water beneath the moon later.

  With a disgruntled mutter he tore himself away from the more pleasant daydreams and headed back upstairs to shower. He’d gotten stiff again just thinking about her. Once around with her hadn’t made a dent in his appetite for her. Maybe if he jerked off he’d calm down a little but he doubted it. Now that he had gotten a taste of being inside her, his hand was going to be a distant second.

  By the time he’d rinsed off the sweat and grime, he’d also managed to get his anger under control. Distracting thoughts of a naked Serafina had helped too.

  The woman—girl, almost—was a piece of work. He could tell she’d started out uncomfortable with sex, embarrassed by talking dirty. She’d been wide-eyed and practically quivering with nerves on Friday night, but by the time they’d made it to his bed that afternoon, she’d loosened up and seemed much more at ease with him. He could still see the look on her face when he’d made her come Friday. All soft and languid. He loved the feel of her, the taste. But even more he loved the moment she gave herself up to him and let herself trust. It had been incredible but he wanted a hell of a lot more.

  He grabbed a beer and flipped on the television to catch the last innings of the Yankees-Mets doubleheader, when it occurred to him he hadn’t heard from her. He suddenly needed to make sure she had gotten home safe and sound. She might not like people compromising her independence or doing things for her, but he just couldn’t help it. Something about her made him feel all protective and possessive and he’d never felt that way about any woman before. All the women he’d dated had been tough neighborhood girls. As likely to punch a guy out for getting fresh as they were to drop to their knees to blow him. If anyone had asked him then, he’d been more than satisfied. But now something had changed. Maybe age, maybe it was the woman herself. He wanted more, but above all, he wanted her. He was getting all Neanderthal, but he really liked the feeling of being the man she could rely on. All he had to do was figure out what put that chip on her shoulder and he’d get it knocked off. He was pretty creative.

  Her phone rang six long times before she picked up, breathless.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey there, Professor.”

  “Nick, are you checking up on me?”

  “I’m just protecting my emotional investment. Besides, I wanted to see if you’re going to be having naughty dreams about me tonight.”

  “It’s a distinct possibility.”

  “Hot, sexy dreams involving us getting naked?”

  “It would be a safe bet.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I’m fine, Nick. Good night, Nick. Thank you for a lovely day, Nick.” He liked the sound of her voice, lighthearted and teasing. It helped work the knot of residual anger in his gut a little looser. She was good for him. He waited through her pause, as if she was deciding what to say next.

  “Your family is lovely. I enjoyed meeting them.”

  “They loved you. Allow me to say I told you so.”

  “It’s a terrible shame about that fragile ego of yours, Niccolo.

  “Good night, Professor.”

  “Sleep tight, Mr. Stellato.”

  * * *

  She gently replaced the receiver and then cast a surreptitious glance out the window in front of her desk. She could still see a dark shadow peeking out from beneath the overhang of the building a few doors down. The view of the street from her casement windows was usually an appealing one, as she could see across to the small garden area between the two buildings opposite her. Tonight, however, the view made her feel vulnerable and open to the sinister, prying eyes of whoever lurked in the shadowed space. The shadow shifted. She would be clearly visible to whoever was down there, watching. Feigning casual movements, she pulled the drapes shut, then stepped back from the window as she closed out the night and the lone shadow on the street below.

  For a split second, when he’d called, she had been sorely tempted to talk to Nick about her fears. When she was with him she didn’t feel so alone and she could talk to him about anything. The filter that kept her at arm’s length from everyone, even her friends, was absent when it came to him. But he’d had to deal with his truck and he’d gotten so angry, she didn’t bother him with her worries. Including the hissing voice she’d heard as she passed the building.

  She’d told the cabbie to let her out at the corner of Eighth Avenue so he could go on to catch another easy fare, but as she walked down her block, she’d heard the whispering behind her. She wished now she’d been lazy and been dropped at her door. Her neighborhood had never been a frightening place, but tonight it possessed an ominous quality that set her teeth on edge. In the end, she’d teased Nick and he’d teased her back, until she was a bit more settled, but the sight of the shadow man returned her to the paranoia zone.

  She wanted a shower after her long day, which had included an enormous amount of food, familial insanity, wine, and a bout of mind-blowing sex. Her body was sore in unusual places. She was tired. Yet her nerves made her hesitate. Out of nece
ssity, she’d early on become a woman who did not ask for help and was proud of her independence. She’d been alone for a long time and was accustomed to relying on herself. But to not avail herself of a doorman for whom she paid handsomely was just foolish. She moved to her front door, checked the deadbolt and chain locks and then buzzed the front desk.

  “Hi, Eddie.”

  “Evening again, Dr. Luca.”

  “Not doctor quite yet—fingers crossed in a couple of months.”

  “My money’s on you. What can I do for you?”

  “Eddie—I feel like such a wuss, but tonight when I came home there was someone hanging out near that little park area across the street. Sort of sneaky, you know? In the shadows so I couldn’t really see him. I just looked out and he’s still there.”

  “Don’t you worry about a thing. I’m on until midnight and I’ll keep my eyes open. I’ll let Miguel know too. No one will get past us. And if I see anyone when I leave for the night, I’ll give the cops a call.”

  She took a deep breath. Her nerves calmed a bit.

  “Thank you. And tell Miguel thank you too. I’ll sleep better knowing you two are looking out.”

  “No worries, Ms. Luca.”

  Slightly reassured, she still hurried through her shower with the shower curtain open, and changed into her nightgown. All of the lights blazed and she’d pulled the drapes in her bedroom, too, ensuring no one could see into either of the windows. Resolute, she refused to even peek to see if anyone was still out there. Instead, she poured a glass of Shiraz and spread out the materials she needed to go through for the first of the Russian lit classes the next morning.

  Unfortunately her brain was a muddle, vacillating between concern over the lurker and lusty thoughts of Nick, and since she had no hope of concentrating, she packed her bag for the next day. They were only freshman, after all. Certainly she could hold her own against them in the realm of Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky.

  Swallowing her nightly vitamin with a big glass of water, she threw in the proverbial towel and crawled into bed. Surprisingly, the hectic day, exhaustion and stress all combined with a pleasantly sore body from the best sex of her life, nudged her into a sleep thankfully free of dreams of any kind. Hot or otherwise.

 

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