by Chloe Cole
But that fearlessness came with a price. In Cricket’s case, it made her a target for the school’s administrators. Tuck suspected that her appearance did little to help her case. Five foot nothing, a hundred and thirty-five pounds comprised almost entirely of tits and ass, she was like something from a tractor-trailer’s mudflap. A sailor’s bawdy tattoo. Or, he admitted ruefully, a science professor’s wet dream.
She was hell on wheels and exactly the kind of woman he would have gone for before…
Now that he was on the up and up, though, she was exactly the kind of woman he needed to steer clear of. The kind of woman that stuck in deep and wouldn’t let go, like a barbed hook in a trout’s gullet. When he’d met her a few months back, he’d considered going for it anyway. But after ten long years of struggling, he’d finally become a man he could be proud of and he needed some time to settle into it. To make sure it stuck.
But, damn.
As a rule, he tried not to think about what Cricket’s uninhibited nature and utter fearlessness would translate to in bed. Most of the time, hell, all of the time, he failed.
She was driving him bananas. Absolutely fucking crazy and he had no idea what to do about it. He rarely saw her for more than a passing hello, but every time he did, he had to avert his eyes. It was that or walk around campus sporting a massive boner. Not cool.
He wondered if someone would rat her out to the dean for the screaming O today. Not likely, but even if they did, there was little the man could do about that. Aside from the fact that she was smarter than he was and could talk circles around him, at the end of the day, statistics didn’t lie. Students flocked to her classes, their grades were consistently above par and when they moved on the next level course, they were better prepared than most. She was unorthodox, but she got the job done.
“I think I want to change majors,” one of the kids in the back row said, dragging him back to reality.
The other students chuckled, some nodding their agreement.
“Hey, hey. Science can be just as fun as human sexuality,” he protested.
“Yeah, right. Even you don’t believe that, Prof.”
True that.
“Seriously. The two subjects actually go hand in hand in a lot of ways. For instance, attraction, or what people refer to as ‘chemistry’? Those are measurable physical manifestations of hormones in your bodies. That’s all science.”
His class seemed riveted now and he continued, their enthusiasm fueling his. “You wouldn’t even feel that attraction if it weren’t for those natural chemicals running through your bloodstream. Then neurotransmitters take the wheel and start firing all over the place. Adrenalin pounds through your veins from the rush, dopamine and serotonin flood in from all the pleasure. Oxytocin is released as you complete the—” he cleared his throat, “act.”
Again, his students laughed.
“Then finally vasopressin sneaks in, making you want to snuggle and maybe stick around for the long haul.”
“I don’t think I have any of the last kind,” one of the boys in the front row deadpanned to another round of chuckles.
“Maybe you just suppress yours, Baxter. Okay,” Tuck continued, totally enamored with the topic as the kernel of an idea began to form. Maybe it was time to test his mettle after all. “I’m liking this track we’re on and it’s clear you guys are more interested in this discussion than any we’ve had so far, so let’s explore those connections in a deeper way. As you all know, the syllabus calls for a research paper next month.”
He put up a hand to silence the chorus of groans. “I know, I know, so here’s what we’ll do. Let’s make it a research project instead. A project on the relationship between science and human sexuality.” And, more importantly, the relationship between him and Doctor Cricket Malloy.
“If you still want to do a paper, go for it. If not, use your imagination. You can do a PowerPoint presentation, charts and graphs, create a survey or a video.”
Snickers swept the room.
“Not that kind of video. I mean a video chronicling your research. I’ll allow you to work in groups if you’d like, no more than three members per group so we still get a wide variety of topics and mediums. You’ll have three weeks to work on your projects and then we’ll spend the fourth week on presenting them to the class so we can all benefit from one another’s efforts.” He smiled at them. “This time next month, we’ll all be enlightened.”
The students chattered excitedly about their new assignment. While he was quickly building a reputation as a nice professor, he wasn’t on the short list of “cool” ones, so they were all amped about this turn of events.
“Each group should come to our next class with three possible ideas for my approval and we’ll go from there.”
As they put groups together, Tuck’s thoughts flipped again to the doctor in the next room, his plan coming into sharp focus. Despite every instinct warning him off, the prospect of getting close to Cricket Malloy sent his whole body tingling. The time was now.
A familiar but almost forgotten tightness took over his limbs. A surge of power thrummed in his blood. A hum of energy skimmed along his senses. The riot of heady sensations assailed him, pulling at him, urging him to get closer to the forbidden prize…sensations he hadn’t felt since the last time he was on the grift.
And damn, it felt good.
***
Cricket splashed some Irish Cream into her coffee then gave it a stir. Today’s lesson had been a fun one. The kids had really seemed to get it too, which was always validating. After two years she was starting to feel at home at Westfield and for the first time in her adult life, thought she might want to stay in one place for a while.
“Hello there, Dr. Malloy, welcome to Adams Hall.”
She turned to see Professor Tucker Lamb stroll into the staff lounge area. “Hello yourself. And thanks for the welcome. It’s not the same as home, but it beats the hell out of getting stung to death by a swarm of bees.”
She didn’t know him all that well, just from various union meetings and school events. He was always very polite, but reserved. Almost shy.
A little over six foot, sandy hair and nice hazel eyes, he was quite handsome. With just a little effort, he could have the better part of the school’s female population, students and teachers alike, wrapped around his finger. But he seemed entirely unaware of his appearance and was pretty much all business, so the initial response to his looks wore off fast. Instead of campus hottie, he was known as a good but tough professor.
She eyed him speculatively and wondered if he ever let loose, took off the tie and maybe used it on a pretty woman’s wrists. God, he’d probably be mortified by that thought. She could almost picture his face flushing with embarrassment.
Despite her lascivious thoughts, she vowed to be on her best behavior and not tease him. He wasn’t her type, anyway. She didn’t like jerks, but she did like ‘em bad. Not cheat on a woman or steal her money bad. More like spank her ass or ride a Harley bad. Too bad those guys mostly liked to cheat. She sighed and focused again on Tucker.
“I suppose that’s true, death by bees is not on my top ten list of ways to go.” He cleared his throat then said, “So, we, ah, heard your lesson today…” He trailed off, shifting his gaze away from hers.
She smothered a chuckle at his obvious discomfort then decided to put him out of his misery. “Oh, that. That wasn’t me. I was giving a lesson on the psychology of the fake orgasm. I rolled out the DVD of When Harry Met Sally and let Meg Ryan help me with the last part. That scene is classic and the boys’ faces were priceless. Up until that moment, I think they honestly believed they’d never had a girl fake it with them.”
His cheeks did flush at that, but he gave her a polite smile anyway. The devil in her smacked down the angel who had just convinced her to be good. “Did you know studies show that eighty percent of women have faked orgasm? And fifty percent admit to doing it on a regular basis?”
“I, uh, I did not k
now that. Interesting.” He pulled up a chair and eased his long frame into it. “And the psychology behind it?” He leaned in, as if he was truly interested in her answer.
She warmed to her subject quickly. “Surprisingly, or maybe not, a woman’s need to nurture often comes into play. She doesn’t want to hurt her man’s pride. Then again, sometimes it’s just that she wants to get it over with. Maybe she’s tired but didn’t want to disappoint her lover by saying no. There are a lot of different reasons. Suffice it to say, it happens. A lot.”
“And what about you, Professor?” He met her gaze with his own and a jolt ran through her. “Do you think those are valid reasons?”
For a second there, she had thought he was flirting with her. And since he’d never looked directly at her before, she’d never noticed how downright soulful his hazel eyes were. In fact, he sure didn’t look nervous now. Very interesting.
She took a long sip of her coffee before responding and in the meantime, the devil took hold of her tongue once again. “I don’t think there is a valid reason. And, in case you were wondering, I don’t fake it. Ever.”
He didn’t break eye contact this time and she thought she saw something in his face. Not embarrassment, but something hot. She looked harder and it was gone, replaced by his typical shy smile.
He cleared his throat and sat back. “Yes, well, it does seem counterproductive. And you’re a smart lady, so it stands to reason that you wouldn’t.”
She’d wondered if he would take the bait, but he’d chosen to retreat instead. It was kind of a letdown, but kind of cute at the same time. He was a bit of a puzzle and damn if that didn’t have her heart kicking up a notch.
She almost laughed out loud at her own reaction. She knew a sign when she saw one and if a nerdy professor not flirting with her was getting her all hot and bothered, she had obviously gone without a man for too long.
She mentally started to calculate the months and was on eleven when Tucker spoke again.
“Actually, I’m glad I ran into you. I have a proposition for you,” he began.
Her eyes snapped to his. Maybe he was going to surprise her after all.
“Do you have any wiggle room in your syllabus?”
Okay, maybe not.
“Depends.”
“Your lesson got my students talking. They were so animated and engaged for the first time this semester. I felt like I needed to seize the opportunity to have a real moment with them. I’ve challenged them to do a project on the correlation between human sexuality and science. I wanted them to see that the science is a huge field and can be applied to almost any discipline. They were so enthralled by what was going on in your classroom, I figured what better way to make my point than with a topic they’re so enthusiastic about.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“I was thinking maybe we could do companion lessons. So your class could do the same type of project. Then we could get the classes together to share presentations and see how the classes differ in their approaches, do some cross-pollination, so to speak. What do you say?”
She took a deep sip of her coffee as she mulled over his proposition. It could be a great experience for the kids. And if she was being totally honest with herself, she had to admit she was more intrigued by Tucker Lamb with every passing minute. It couldn’t hurt to spend some time around a nice guy for a change, could it?
Oh, what the hell.
“It sounds like fun and the kids will probably learn something new and different. I’m in.”
It did sound fun and she was always down to shake things up a little. And along the vein of shaking things up a little…
“Hey, maybe we should do one too. A project, I mean.”
He stared at her for a second, nonplussed.
She tried to keep a straight face as she continued. “We’ll do one together. To present to the kids. How about… myths and truths of aphrodisiacs? I’ve always been fascinated with them, truth be told.”
“What—” He paused and cleared his throat. “What would our research consist of?”
She was definitely getting to him now. The pulse in his neck beat strong and she quelled the urge to close her teeth over that spot.
Oh yeah, way too long.
“We could set up controlled experiments using stimuli purported to create or increase sexual arousal. Sounds, tastes, smells and so on. We’ll measure deviations in pupil dilation, vitals and other data, depending on what equipment we can wrangle up. Obviously, we won’t tell the students who the test subjects were,” she said with a chuckle. “That would only start tongues a-wagging. But even at that, they’ll get a kick out of the results.” She shot him a grin. “So, what do you say?”
She wet her lips as a bout of nerves set her stomach jiggling. His hazel eyes had darkened to the color of a stormy sky and the sudden heat they gave off settled in the cradle of her thighs.
Tucker stared at her mouth for a long moment before responding.
“Yes. I say yes.”
Chapter Two
Two days later, Tuck stood in the shower, still contemplating the strange workings of fate.
He couldn’t believe his luck. He’d wanted more time with Cricket, but never dreamed it would be so easy. And even better, she’d done the work for him. He hadn’t even needed to broach the subject. Talk about great minds thinking alike.
He bent low, letting the steamy water sluice over his head and down his back. When he’d thought to include her and her class in the lesson, he was just hoping to go on a few lesson planning dates with her. He’d never even dreamed they’d be doing hands-on research. Using aphrodisiacs, no less. It was so suggestive, so ripe with possibilities.
Had that been her intention? He didn’t even know anymore. One second she teased, the next, she seemed to actually be flirting with him. Her view on sexuality was so matter-of-fact, she could be just looking at this as a viable and interesting research project. But what if she wasn’t?
He needed to figure out where her head was so he played it just right. If this was an opportunity to see her naked and he missed it, he’d find the nearest building and jump. On the flip side, he didn’t want to make a jackass of himself if turned out she was only trying to be friendly.
Because friendly didn’t even scratch the surface of what he was feeling.
Maybe getting tangled up with her would be okay if she were just a regular girl. Pretty, nice, bright, someone to settle down with. Someone who would be content going to nice restaurants, ice skating and maybe play bridge on the weekends.
But that wasn’t him and it sure as hell wasn’t Cricket. Her intellect was as sharp as her humor. And while she seemed kind, he didn’t think of her as nice. He didn’t want to take her to fancy restaurants, either. He wanted to make her dinner at home and suck her finger as she fed him until she begged him to bend her over the table and fuck her. He wanted to ski black diamonds with her, then race back to the outdoor hot tub and have mind blowing sex outside where someone might or might not hear them. And if they played cards, he wanted it to be strip poker, where they’d both cheat to win if they had to.
For a long term relationship to work, didn’t someone need to be the voice of reason? The rock in the storm?
Tuck scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. No matter what his brain was trying to tell him, the reality was, she set him off. All thrusters engaged.
It didn’t help matters that she was practically made for pleasure. Her body with its dips and curves and all that soft flesh. Her lips, so full, so juicy. He wanted to take the bottom one between his teeth and suck…then press her to her knees and have her wrap that mouth around his length, working him up and down.
His cock twitched in enthusiastic agreement. The thought of her made him wild inside, like some sort of addict and she was his fix. He’d felt that need before in his life and he knew one thing for sure: needing something that bad was never good.
Tuck closed his eyes and tried to picture his high-school foo
tball defensive coordinator, Coach Abba. They’d called him Abba the Hut and just thinking of him was usually enough to take the edge off all but the heartiest of boners.
No dice this time, though. In one hour, he was expected to be at the lab. The lab where he would spend the better part of his afternoon testing out aphrodisiacs with the sexiest woman on the planet. He wondered briefly if anyone had ever died of horniness. He looked down at his swollen cock and let out a disgusted snort. Maybe it wouldn’t kill him, but if he didn’t take care of it he definitely wouldn’t be able to walk straight.
Tuck grabbed hold of the cheeky fucker and squeezed, shutting out his confusion, tuning out the noise in his head and allowing himself to just feel. He groaned as he fisted his shaft, gripping the distended head hard on the upstroke.
The memory of Cricket rushed in like an all-encompassing wave. Her citrus smell, the golden silk of her skin, the long, tawny hair, the cleavage that beckoned him to slide his cock between those breasts until he exploded on her chest.
Fantasy replaced memory. Her curvy hips clutched in his hands as she rode him hard. She’d lean forward so he could take one dusky nipple deep into his mouth and suck, while her tight pussy slid over him again and again.
Heat pooled low in his groin as he fine-tuned the picture on his HD, mind’s-eye screen. Cricket’s teeth closing over her bottom lip as she struggled not to cry out. Her gorgeous tits bouncing as she fucked him, faster and faster. Her greedy hand slipping between them, rubbing her clit in quick strokes.
His stomach muscles clenched. He could almost hear her breath coming in pants as she whimpered his name.