Dirty Professor

by North, Paige

  My main work was done with my mouth, though, and I savored every taste, keeping my lips and tongue firm against him, releasing only to lick him at the top, the delicious treat that he was, more satisfying than that chocolate raspberry cake could ever hope to be. Each time my head dipped down, I took more of him in my mouth, marveling at how loose my throat had become, that it could take much more than I ever imagined.

  “God, Sophie,” Leo moaned, his fingers fully tangled in my hair as he took over, guiding my head at the pace he wanted, a little faster, my mouth stretched wide as I moaned at the feel of him on my touch. I paused and took my mouth off his dick, giving it quick kisses up the side before taking it back, as deep as I could, Leo’s hand gently pushing to have more of him. His breath came in gasps as I quickened my pace, my hand still holding him.

  “Don’t stop,” he gasped, and I wouldn’t have even if the plane were going down. “I’m going to come,” he said, and knowing my mouth could do this to him made me moan with him and soon he exploded, down my throat and I took him, all of him, holding him there as more came from him, his grunts hardly contained. His hand fell from my head to my shoulder, and finally he braced himself on the arm of my chair, panting for air. I slipped him out of my mouth.

  Once he’ll pulled himself together—and pulled up his pants—he sat on the bench across the aisle. He rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. “Damn, girl. I’m going to need a minute. I think I went off to another universe for awhile there.”

  “Flatterer,” I said, but secretly I was pleased. I’d never made a man—the one I’d been with—say my name like that and was amazed I had done it, and to this man of all men. I moved over and sat next to him.

  “I’m not kidding,” he said. “How’d you get so good at that?”

  “I’ll never tell,” I said, leaning over to nip at his neck. That part, at least, was the truth. Like I’d admit to learning how to give a blowjob from a magazine? And not even Crush. The horror!

  He let out a satisfied sigh as I kissed his neck. “Come closer,” he said. He put an arm around my back and hooked the other under my legs. In one smooth motion, he had me sitting on his lap.

  “Right where you want me,” I said.

  “Why don’t you come to the set with me?” he said, his fingers tracing lazily on my bare thigh. “I’ll just keep you like this during meetings. ‘Uh, Mr. Armstrong, are you aware that there’s a human woman attached to your lap?’ We’ll just feign ignorance.”

  I laughed and went back to his neck, giving him gentle little licks and bites as I went. “You taste so good,” I mumbled, as I continued kissing.

  “If you keep that up, I really will be forced to take you with me.”

  “Please take me,” I sighed into his ear, my hand running across the chest I hadn’t spent enough time exploring. There was so much more of him to touch and taste and feel. If he rerouted the plane to Australia I wouldn’t have minded at all. It still wouldn’t be enough time.

  “Soon, sweet Sophie,” he whispered back. “Soon.”

  “Mr. Armstrong,” came the captain’s voice over the intercom. “Be advised that we will be landing in twenty minutes. Please make sure your seatbelts are secured.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” I said, my arm wrapped around his neck. I brushed the brown strands of hair from his forehead, then kissed him there.

  He laughed. “Even I have to listen to the captain. Sophie,” he said, pulling back and looking at me closely, and I felt it—he needed to tell me something, confess his feelings or beg me to wait for him in Seattle. It had to be something, the way he looked at me like I held all the answers to the questions he’d asked his whole life. His eyes flicked away for a brief second, and then he said, “This bench pulls out into a bed. You can sleep on the way back to L.A.”

  It was as if we’d hit a sudden patch of turbulence, the way my stomach suddenly plummeted. I’d believed for a moment that he was going to say something deep and personal to me—especially after the deep, personal thing I’d just done to him. But something about the sudden business of it all had me rattled.

  “Great,” I said, standing up and tugging my skirt down as I did. “Lucky me.” I sat back in my own seat and buckled my seatbelt.

  Leo sat across from me. “I didn’t mean—are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Sophie,” he said. “Look at me.”

  I was afraid that if I did I’d burst into tears, and that was not how I wanted what had been an otherwise incredible night in the sky to end. I did, though, I looked at him, the blue of his eyes so bright now, looking at me in that way he had that I couldn’t fully describe. It made me feel exposed, and that was the last way I wanted to feel around him. “Thank you for coming with me,” he said. “Honestly, I travel a lot and I hate flying alone. It’s depressing.”

  “Glad I could hang out, then,” I said, looking away again, despite the sincerity I could hear in his voice.

  “Don’t be like that. There’s no one else I wanted to be with tonight than you,” he said. “And I want to see you again. I want to see more of you.”

  My eyes turned back to him. He definitely seemed sincere, but I knew that this was simply a ploy—this kind of pacifying speech was his stock-in-trade. Leo was damn good at making me feel wanted, but I had to remember that he’d also been just as good at it with dozens and dozens of women previously.

  Do not ever forget who and what he is, I told myself.

  Before he stepped off the plane he took me in his arms, pressed me tight to him, and kissed me deeply and with such tenderness. I sank against him, wishing that kiss would never end. But it did. Soon I was watching from the window as he slipped into an awaiting black town car on the tarmac, and Helen had lowered that bench into a bed for me, complete with pillows and blanket.

  “Can I get you anything before takeoff?” she asked.

  I watched out the small window as the car drove away, taking Leo with it. I realized he hadn’t said how long he’d be gone.

  “No, thank you,” I said. I felt strangely sad and forlorn, and I hated knowing that my body and emotions were steadily betraying my rational brain.

  As we hit cruising altitude and I had snuggled down into the cozy little bed, I fell asleep quickly, wondering how soon I could see him again.

  Chapter Nine

  When I walked back into my apartment at three o’clock that morning, I heard Ava Marie moaning and her bed bucking behind her slightly ajar bedroom door. Great, I thought. Just what I need to hear after rocking off Leo but not fully finishing myself.

  Did oral count as being part of the mile-high club? I wondered stupidly.

  Had I been used? The first night at his apartment had, frankly, been all about me. If that’s how Leo Armstrong used women, then I say let him. But tonight I’d returned the favor, so to speak. And even though I’d enjoyed every delicious second of it, was he laughing at me right now, telling the guys how some dumb girl gave him a blow job on the company jet? “Again, Armstrong?” they’d probably tease, and he’d laugh self-deprecatingly, all the while knowing his legend was increasing by the second.

  But then again—I couldn’t help thinking about the amazing talk we’d had. It was fascinating hearing about scripts and characters from his perspective, to learn what he wanted from them. That maybe there was more to his movies than just guns and explosions.

  Then I recalled how seriously he’d taken my opinions—more seriously even than Kait and the women at Crush.

  I got a glass of water from the kitchen, waiting for Ava Marie to finish…whoever she was doing.

  The door to Ava Marie’s bedroom opened and a man in boxers walked into the dark hallway, toward the kitchen.

  “Hello?” I said to let him know someone else was there.

  “Holy shit,” he said, stepping back.

  “What is it?” Ava Marie called from her bedroom.

  “It’s Sophie,” I called. “I’m home.”

  A
va Marie came out with a short robe loosely tied around her slim waist. “Oh, hey. I thought you were out.”

  “Just got home,” I said, holding up my water glass.

  “This is Christian,” she said, motioning to the perfectly proportioned creature now searching for a water glass. “Christian, that’s my roommate Sophie.”

  “I guess if you’re just now getting home that means you had a good night,” Christian said, without an ounce of self-consciousness at walking around in our kitchen half naked.

  “That’s true,” Ava Marie said, a smile playing on her lips. “Did the new girl in town find herself a native?”

  I didn’t feel like talking about it. The night—the flight—had been incredible but also confusing to put in mildly, and I had some mental sorting to do. “I had a work thing,” I said, not a total lie.

  “Listen, I feel kind of bad about the other day, when I told you to like, get over your audition rejection. I shouldn't have been so harsh.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I said. “You were right.”

  “You a dancer, too?” Christian asked.

  I wanted to know what planet he thought a woman with my curves would be a professional dancer. That’s when I realized—he was a dancer, too. I could see it in the way he moved—and in his lean muscles totally on display.

  “Sophie’s still trying to find herself while working at a magazine. Right, Soph?”

  “Something like that,” I said.

  “So who were you out with tonight?” Ava Marie asked, eyeing me mischievously.

  “No one,” I said, my instinct to lie growing stronger and easier each time. “I mean, it was that guy I met at the audition. Nobody special,” I added, rubbing my neck.

  “Oh, yeah, the actor who wanted to run lines with you,” Ava Marie said. “Hey, that reminds me. Some of us are going to the drive-in some time next week if you want to join us. Bring your new actor boy.”

  “A drive-in?” I asked. “Like, an actual drive-in?”

  “Yeah, in Silver Lake. It’s super retro, really cool,” Ava Marie said. “I’m surprised more people don’t know about it but since you’re new to town and all…. Come with us. If your actor boy isn’t working out, I can set you up with someone.”

  “As long as you don’t mind dancers,” Christian said. “That’s basically all we hang out with. Who are you thinking of?” he said to Ava Marie. “Reed?”

  “No, Michael,” she said. “Reed is chasing after Monica. What do you say?” she asked me.

  It wasn’t a bad idea. It would get me out to see the city and meeting new people. More importantly, it would get my mind off Leo. But I wasn’t sure that was what I wanted right then. I told her I’d think about it.

  It was strange feeling like I wanted to remain faithful and exclusive to a man that was using me for sex, whom I was using to further my career. Beyond strange, it was actually kind of mortifying.

  I went back to my room and typed up some notes about the evening with Leo to send to Kait—basically leaving the best part out—and when my head hit the pillow, I was out.

  Since only a handful of people at Crush knew what I was working on—namely the girls in the City Living department, and Kait—the rest of the crew wanted to know what the new girl was working on. From their perspective, I wasn’t doing anything but coming into the office late and bleary-eyed most days.

  My first all-staff meeting, which was a week after Seattle, consisted of the head of each department pitching ideas for the upcoming issue. We sat in the same conference room with a view of the Hollywood sign that I’d sat in on my first day.

  Now it was time for everyone from all the magazine’s departments to pitch their ideas for the upcoming issue—the one that would have my Leo piece in it. Mel wanted to showcase leather for spring and Rebecca swore hair mousse was making a comeback. Jenny wanted to do a piece on open relationships, Susan wanted to write about toys that enhance oral and Liz had a story ready to go about the newest fitness craze.

  I’d been so caught up in my Leo sexcapades that I’d long since forgotten about the list of ideas I had on my first day for my New Girl column. Once everyone had pitched, Pam, the managing editor, fixed her eyes on me and said, “How long before you jump in?”

  My head snapped up and I got that panicked feeling of being caught in class without having read the assignment. “I have…um, ideas,” I said.

  “So let’s hear them.”

  I looked to Kait for help, since she hadn’t told me to work on anything other than my Leo story.

  “Sophie?” Kait said, scribbling in her notebook. “The newbie go-getter. What have you got for us?”

  I flipped nervously through my notebook, trying to find those ideas I’d written down for my first day—the ones Kait had no interest in hearing.

  “It shouldn’t be that hard,” Pam said. “You are actually new in town. What have you been doing? Some other project got you too busy for the job you were hired to do?”

  “No,” I said quickly, instinctively. Did she know about Leo? Kait said only our department knew about Leo. Was word spreading? Who else knew?

  “So?” Pam pressed.

  “Well,” I began, my mind racing to find something to grab hold of. “I heard about this amazing drive-in movie theater near Silver Lake.”

  “A drive-in?” Kait asked, curious.

  “How very ’50s,” Pam snickered.

  “It’s supposed to be really cool,” I said. I’d looked it up online after Ava Marie told me about it. “They play classics, some from the ’50s,” I said to Pam, “and other old stuff from the ’80s and ’90s. Everything from Raging Bull to Love, Actually. The food’s supposed to be good, too.”

  “I’ve read about this place. Sounds like a fun date spot,” Renee said, and I was so thankful for her speaking up for me.

  Looking to Kait, Pam said, “So have her do a date piece on it. You can come up with an interesting date, can’t you?” she asked me.

  I looked between Pam and Kait. Pam was pushing something, it was clear. Had Kait told her about Leo? Finally I just said yes, I could find a date (thanks very much) and the meeting wrapped.

  As I got my notebook and pens together, Pam came close to me.

  “Don’t think you can slack just because you got some special assignment,” she said softly, but her tone was like iron. “We’ve all been here a lot longer than you. We don’t need some recent grad coming in acting like she’s some hotshot reporter. Write your little drive-in piece, and remember your place.” She started to leave, her hand on the conference room door. “By the way, I’m editing it, so it better be good.”

  Before I could say a word, she was out the door, leaving me shaken. What had I done to upset her? What did she know about my Leo assignment?

  Since the moment Ava Marie told me about the drive-in, I couldn’t help but picture being there with Leo, a totally irrational thought. Pam may have been on the attack, but she was right—I had to see Leo as nothing more than a subject, and as a subject, I shouldn’t use him to hang out with for fun.

  I plopped down on the chair in my cubicle. Besides, It’d been a week since the flight with Leo and I hadn’t heard from him. Even if I had the nerve to call him I couldn’t, since the number he called me from was blocked. I guess despite the contract, he had me on probation—or a leash, as Kait said when I told her about the time gap since I’d heard from him.

  Every morning she stopped by my desk, her double-shot skinny latte clutched in her hand, and asked one question: “Heard from him?” When I shook my head no, she kept on to her office without another word, but I felt the disappointment coming off her, like it was my fault he was out of town or unavailable.

  Today, though, she stopped at my cubicle on her way back to her office after the meeting. She draped her arm over the wall and said, “Listen, Sophie. You need to step it up on our story,” she said, and I had no doubt about what “our” story meant. “Work on the drive-in piece for New Girl, but as for the othe
r…” She lowered her voice. “This whole business of not having his number is ridiculous. It’s a great anecdote for the story—it clearly shows the level of control he has in his relationships—but it’s a disaster when it comes to you getting closer to him for the sake of the story. The next time you see him, get his number. That way you can text him, maybe invite him out to dinner. Got it?”

  “But what if he’s already…you know, moved on?” I asked, anxiety blooming inside my belly.

  “You didn’t fuck him yet, did you?” she shot back, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

  “God no,” I said, but I wondered if oral sex counted.

  “Good, because if you screw him right away, you’ll kill the whole deal. You have to make him wait so you can get more dirt.”

  “I’m not having sex with him,” I said forcefully.

  She nodded and made a face of disbelief. “Sure,” she said. “Of course not. After all, why might you want to have sex with the hottest stud on the planet when you could probably be out eating fast food with some guy from the mailroom?”

  I couldn’t force the guy to give me his number, even if I did agree with Kait that it was a clear symptom of the way he treated women. Withholding. Controlling. Using.

  My head throbbed with confusion and budding anger and resentment towards Leo and everyone else.

  I started researching the drive-in in Silver Lake but soon I was searching images for Leo Armstrong. He wasn’t often photographed by the paparazzi so most of the pictures were of him on a red carpet for a movie premier in one of his many custom-made tuxedos. Closed-lip smile, hands in pockets, a glint in his eyes like he knew something all those photographers didn’t know.

  I made the mistake of adding the word “women” to the end of his name in the search. Out popped hundreds of images Leo Armstrong with different girls—mostly in tiny bikinis—on beaches and boats all over the world. He was like a sailor who had a woman in every port. I hardly saw two pictures of the same woman. He was always with someone different. We were all just playthings to him.