“Professor Sullivan!” Marshall boomed out, his jowls actually trembling with righteous indignation and the volume of his words. When Kane just stared silently at him, the older man blew out a breath and settled back into his chair. “Professor Sullivan,” he said again, “I’m not issuing a directive for you to get married. That violates all manner of rules, and as I never saw fit to enter the state of matrimony myself, I can’t say that I recommend it. However, whether you believe me or not, I do have your best interests at heart.”
“And the best interests of the department,” Kane pointed out.
Marshall didn’t bother to deny it. “Yes, the success and reputation of our department are important to me. So is its future. I want to make sure it’s in good hands when I’m gone.”
Ah, the dangling of the tenure carrot. “Of course,” Kane said, because it was the only appropriate thing he could say.
“The dean appreciates the exposure your skills and expertise have given to Herscher,” Marshall continued. “Your journal papers and books have made the national spotlight. We know how much of an asset you are to the college.”
But . . . Kane mentally prodded.
“You wouldn’t want any hint of impropriety, no matter how unfounded, to come to the dean’s attention. There is a code of conduct we must all adhere to, and I would hate for the president of the board of regents to believe your potential liabilities outweigh the benefits of having you on staff here.”
“I understand.” He did. Despite all he’d done for the school, all the positive attention and donations, the seminars and conferences and influx of students, it was not good enough. His position was still tenuous and dependent on things beyond his control, and he fucking hated it.
He rose. “If that will be all, I have somewhere I need to be.”
“Just one more thing, Sullivan.” The corpulent department head rose from his chair like a ship breaking a wave. “The department meet and greet for our benefactors is coming up soon. The president and members of the board will be attending. If you could bring a date with you, not only would that be a refreshing change, but it would be sure to alleviate some of the negative speculation that’s aimed your way.”
The department meet and greet. Part of the political posturing that was a necessary evil of teaching at the university level. Most of the time he didn’t attend, using his consulting work as the perfect excuse not to participate in the song and dance. He doubted if Marshall or Dean Lansing would accept an excuse this time around.
Kane nodded at Marshall. “I’ll see what I can do. Have a good evening, sir.”
He left Marshall’s office, then quickly made his way out of Prentiss Hall and into the crisp pre-spring air. Breathing deeply several times, he pushed away the anger that had bubbled up while he’d been pressured by the department head like a middle-school student called to the principal’s office.
Shoving his hands into his pants pockets, he made his way across the quad to the faculty parking lot. As much as he disliked the cronyism and pandering necessary for being part of college-level faculty, he loved teaching and his chosen field of study. It gave him a great deal of pleasure to engage and challenge his students, to expand their worldviews and their attitudes while exposing them to other social constructs and points of view. He thought he was making a difference in his own small way, but if the dean and president didn’t think so, he had to consider other options.
He made his way to his car and put Herscher in his rearview, his mind whirling with possibilities. He could quit teaching altogether and go full-time as a consultant, hiring his skills and expertise out to law enforcement on a local and federal level. It was important work but some of the cases he’d worked on took their toll, leaving him mentally and emotionally drained and unfit for company. Being exposed to the ugly side of sexual deviancy wasn’t something he enjoyed no matter how necessary it was, and he admired the men and women in law enforcement who saw it as their daily duty. If things went south at Herscher, he’d have to consider it.
He could also write full-time. With three nonfiction works to his name and the seeds to a fictional crime series sketched out, it was a definite possibility. He also had a decent nest egg that would enable him to take the time to do it right. The thought of leaving the college didn’t sit well with him, though. He enjoyed the school, the students, and the eclectic little town that surrounded them. He didn’t want to leave it.
Yet if he gave any credence to Marshall, and he had no reason not to, his only option for staying and gaining tenure was to make the traditionalists happy and his students miserable by becoming very obviously and publicly off-limits.
Nadia’s beautiful face surfaced in his thoughts. He rejected the idea before it could form. There was no way in hell he’d marry Nadia, or anyone else for that matter, just to stay on at the college. She’d laugh him out of the café for even broaching the subject, after she kicked him in the gonads.
A few miles north of the college, he turned his car onto Bay View Terrace. The sun had begun its downward slant into the bay in a spectacular show of color that had given the town its name. His spacious condo had a commanding view of the bay, and he wondered what it would be like to have Nadia standing on the balcony wrapped in nothing but the light of the setting sun like a fire goddess.
Nadia. Just thinking about her lightened his mood and made him hard. She consumed his thoughts, fractured his concentration, occupied his mind, and filled his memory, taking up permanent residence in his psyche. Their night had more than lived up to his expectations. The pic she’d sent of her with the flowers was now the unlocked background on his phone. He knew he was acting like a horny teen with his first crush, but after one explosive night, he was hooked and ready for more.
He’d already thought of her as sexy and sweet. He’d had a couple of weeks of watching her interact with customers, employees, and friends. Her sarcastic wit, ready laugh, and obvious compassion had won him over just as surely as her sticky buns had.
After parking, he quickly made his way up to his condo. Marshall’s lecture had put him behind schedule. He didn’t know the ins and outs of running a bakery, but he figured Nadia had to get up early, way before sunrise. The last thing he wanted to do was inconvenience her or make her think she couldn’t fit him into her life.
He rushed through a shower, then pulled on loose-fitting gray trousers and a black sweater. Before heading out, he stopped in his office, the three-dimensional representation of his brain, the room he retired to in order to write, to think, to dive deep into the criminal mind to create psychological profiles. He grinned as he spotted his copies of The Perfumed Garden, the early French, the Kama Shastra Society’s translation, and a later, more accurate English translation. He was looking forward to trying out all the positions with Nadia, discovering her favorites. Discovering her.
He’d pushed a bit when he’d ordered that she be ready for him, but he’d sensed she’d be receptive, especially given the way she’d responded to his demands the night before. That yes, sir text she’d sent in response had made him rock hard and desperate to be inside her. Need burned through him, and all he could think about was getting to her as soon as possible. If she thought the night before was good, he’d make sure round two was even better.
SIX
The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough as far as Nadia was concerned. She zipped through her prep work for the next morning, waved good-bye to Siobhan and the rest of the staff, then gathered her flowers before heading for the door. Anticipation zipped through her as she stepped out into the bright but chilly late afternoon sunlight before quickly making her way up to the building’s residential entrance.
Humming, feeling like dancing, she entered her two-story condo, flushing as she caught sight of her couch. Remembering how Kane had bent her over the back caused a spark of need to flare deep inside her. God, the man was good. So good that she hadn’t though
t twice when they’d made their way to her bedroom and he had her ride him to an explosive finish. She’d actually passed out for a while, only to awaken to a mouth on her breast and his fingers skillfully stroking her clit.
That third time, with Kane rising above her and dominating her with stroke after masterful stroke, had shown her that he was capable of being everything she could want in a lover. More than that, she thought there was a chance he could be everything she needed.
Her mind whirled as she placed the bouquet in a spot of honor on the granite bar, then set the main floor to rights. That Kane could read her so well should have unnerved her, but she couldn’t decide if it bothered her or not. Maybe he was just good at what he did; he was a professor of human sexuality and psychology after all. He’d made a successful career out of studying people and their attitudes toward sex and sexual exploration. Given their mini-flirt at the café and their verbal foreplay at the restaurant, she realized Kane had probably systematically formulated a plan of ultimate seduction and enacted the steps needed to achieve his desired result. And that result was her spread beneath him.
That sounded so clinical, but Kane was anything but, she thought as she made her way upstairs to strip and redress the bed. There had been nothing clinical about the heat in his dark gaze or the way he’d touched her. Calculating, maybe. But so what? She’d been calculating too from the moment she’d handed him the remote control for her vibrator. She’d tested him and he’d turned the tables on her to orgasmic results. She’d wanted an expert and that was exactly what she’d gotten.
Their time together had been smoking hot. The man himself was a closeted sex god masquerading as a geeky professor. That part didn’t bother her, Nadia reminded herself as she dumped the soiled linens in the laundry room then headed for the master bath. Calculating or not, the sex was incredible. And she’d get to experience it again very, very soon.
Desire hummed in her veins. That was the part that bothered her. One night, just one night of very, extremely, powerfully hot sex, and all she could think about was the moment she’d get to have it again. She craved the sensations, the pleasure, the release, craved it so much it was like a hunger.
She’d experienced cravings like that before. Needing pills to get her going in the morning. Pills to numb the pain so she could get through a grueling day of cooking, filming, partying, being on for the camera, for the people who depended on her for their bread and butter. Another set of pills so she could sleep deeply and then start the cycle all over again. She’d slipped into a spiraling whirlpool, an undertow of chemical abuse she couldn’t break free of until it was nearly too late.
Like it had been too late for some.
She couldn’t let that happen again. She could do this. Have sex with Kane, enjoy herself, and make damn sure she didn’t go so far that she lost herself in the process.
Blowing away her negative ruminations with a cleansing breath, Nadia dumped the soiled linens in the laundry room then headed for the master bath. In the shower, she closed her eyes as the steaming water sluiced down her body. By herself, alone with her thoughts, she gave in to the wonder of the last twenty-four hours. “Kaname,” she whispered, enjoying the way each syllable felt in her mouth. Kane was a strong name, perfect for dealing with the college, teaching students, consulting with law enforcement. Kaname . . . that was a name to be said on a breathy moan just before you were rocketed up into orgasmic pleasure.
She lathered her bath sponge with a jasmine-vanilla-scented soap then ran it over her heated body, lingering on her breasts. Hunger that couldn’t be satisfied with food welled up inside her. She wanted him. Wanted his hands cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples. His mouth gliding over her body, heightening her senses. His tongue circling her clit as his fingers pumped inside her folds. His possession taking her higher and higher until she came when he ordered her to.
“Good grief,” she breathed, pulling her hand away from her needy pussy. Just thinking about the man made her thoughts turn to sex and her body prime itself for orgasm. Her hand slid down her body again, and again she pulled it away. She could hold out for a little while until Kane arrived. Besides, she remembered with a thrill, she’d promised her orgasms to him. The reward would be all the more delicious for waiting. And she’d make sure he knew just how much of a good girl she’d been.
Her phone rang as she got out of the shower. Her stomach did a little flip of excitement as she saw Kane’s name on the screen. Wrapping a towel around herself, she grabbed the phone. “Kane.”
“Nadia.” Even through the phone, the low and husky timbre of his voice skated over her senses, making her shiver. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. Do you realize how inconvenient it is to lecture while sporting an erection?”
Since she knew just how impressive an erection it was, she could guess how inconvenient it was. She leaned against the counter, her breath coming fast. “Am I supposed to apologize for that? I came close to burning several dozen cupcakes after I got your flowers and card.”
“Good.”
“Good? How is that good?”
“It means that I’m not alone in this, whatever this is. That it’s as satisfying for you as it is for me. That you want more of what I can give you.”
“Kaname,” she breathed, wondering if she had any defenses that could withstand this man.
He released a harsh breath. “I like the way you say my name, sweet Nadia. I want to hear you say it just like that when I’m inside you later.”
Her nipples pearled. “So you don’t think last night was just a fluke? Or the result of martinis and vibrators?”
He chuckled. “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” he asked, his voice husky with intent. “Are you ready for me, Nadia?”
“Almost. I just got out of the shower, so I’m only in a towel right now.”
“Are you?” His voice dropped lower. “Tell me, you didn’t take care of yourself while you were in the shower, did you?”
“I wanted to, but I didn’t,” she confessed. “How did you know?”
“Because I thought about doing the same thing when I had my shower. I’m glad you didn’t, though. Your orgasms belong to me.”
She automatically opened her mouth to protest, but what came out was a moan instead of a denial. Somehow, Kane was able to throw that switch in her brain, the switch that made her surrender and say that yes, of course her orgasms belonged to him, especially since he was so good at wringing them out of her.
“I remember,” she told him, her voice less than a whisper. She cleared her throat, spoke louder. “I think I deserve a reward for my restraint.”
His low laughter made her stomach clench. “Just what sort of reward do you think you deserve?”
She gripped her phone tightly. “Your orgasms. I want your orgasms to belong to me.”
Silence on the other end, and she wondered if she’d pushed too far in their sexy game. Then, “Do you, now?”
Her eyes slid closed as the dangerous softness of his voice sent tingles of awareness shooting through her. “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”
Another lengthy pause. “I’m coming to you, Nadia. I’m going to have you for dessert, then I’m cooking you dinner, and then we’ll enter the Garden. Wear something simple so I don’t have to rip it off you. Do you understand?”
She swallowed a whimper of need. “Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. Now how do you feel about seafood?”
“I see food, I eat it,” she answered. “Everything except oysters. Feel free to surprise me.”
“I think I’m the one who’s surprised. Pleasantly so. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Be ready for me.” He disconnected.
“Oh my God.” Nadia released the breath she held as she put down her phone and picked up her hair dryer. Thank goodness she was already leaning against the counter, because her knees were so we
ak she nearly slid to the floor. As she dried her hair, she could only think of one thing: even if she had all the time in the world, she didn’t think she’d ever be truly ready for Professor Sex.
She had just enough time to half dry her hair and toss on a caramel-colored microfiber slip dress that barely supported her breasts before the doorbell rang. Barefoot, she raced downstairs and threw open the door to let Kane in. For a moment she could only stand there, staring at him in amazement. Kane was just too good-looking for words. He didn’t have his glasses on, enabling her to easily see the intense glint in his midnight eyes. The black cashmere sweater molded to the definition in his shoulders and arms, but the hem couldn’t conceal the erection straining at the zipper of his pants. His dark hair fell over his forehead like a raven’s wing, making him look downright devilish.
Finally she found her voice. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” His expression heated as he backed her over the threshold and closed the door. She reached for him, his name a thick, needy breath on her lips.
“Not yet,” he said, his voice a bite. “If you touch me right now, as badly as I want you, it’ll be game over and dinner will be ruined.”
That’s when she noticed he had a canvas shopping bag in one hand and a small leather duffel in the other. She backed away, giving him room to pass her and head to the gourmet kitchen. As she followed him, she wondered if she was the only woman in town who’d mistakenly thought that Kaname Sullivan was a harmless, mild-mannered man. She’d never been more glad to be so wrong.
“What are we having?” she asked, hoping to break the sexual tension building inside her. Telling her not to touch him only made her want to caress him all the more.
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