Her entire face lights up like the glow from a thousand suns, and it only further highlights how stunning she is. Cheryl isn’t wearing much makeup, but she doesn’t need it. She has flawless porcelain skin that radiates inner beauty. Her trusting, big blue eyes are framed by long, thick lashes, and she has a dainty nose and plump lips. With her beautiful face and slender body, she looks like she’d be more at home in front of the camera, not behind it.
“Yes, or I aspire to be. My dream is to set up my own studio one day.”
“Well, I hope it all works out for you.”
“Do you work?” she asks, a little hesitantly.
I nod, and my smile is genuine. “I’m an assistant professor at the Harvard School of Arts and Sciences, assigned to the department of economics. This is my fourth year there, and I adore it.”
“Oh, thank God,” she blurts. Her cheeks flush a rosy pink color. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. It’s just … none of the other women I’ve met tonight seem to work, and I’ve been feeling like I don’t fit in, and it’s just great to meet someone else who is focused on her career.”
“Trust me. I totally understand. I’ve always felt like an outsider because I work, and it’s difficult to find common ground sometimes. Not that they aren’t lovely,” I rush to add, in case anyone is listening in. “But it’ll be nice to have another career-minded woman to catch up with at these events.”
“Oh, gosh, me too!” Relief is evident in her tone.
I fish a business card out of my clutch, handing it to her. “Call me anytime, and if you have questions about anything, I’ll try my best to help.” That’s as far as I can go in terms of warning her, but I vow there and then if I can do something to keep a sweet girl like Cheryl away from this lifestyle, I will.
She flips the business card over in her hand, and a nostalgic look washes over her face. “My childhood sweetheart goes to Harvard, or so I’ve been told,” she muses. “I know it’s a big campus, but do you know Ke—”
“Darling,” Jeremy says, interrupting whatever Cheryl was about to say. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
He takes Cheryl’s hand, lifting it to his mouth and planting a soft kiss on her skin. If there’s one thing my husband is, it’s undeniably charming. “We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting, but Daniel has told me all about you. He’s quite enamored with you, Cheryl.”
Her voice betrays her nervousness when she speaks, trembling a little. “It’s great to finally meet you, sir, Mr. Garcia. Daniel speaks very highly of you.”
Jeremy smiles, circling his arm possessively around my waist. “He’s a fine young gentleman, and you’ve got yourself a great catch.”
Bile floods my mouth, and knots twist in my gut.
“I know. I’m very lucky.”
Poor girl. I can tell she really means it. She has no clue what she’s walking into.
None.
“I’m sorry to drag my wife away,” Jeremy says, not sounding apologetic at all, “but I need her assistance with something. You should come over to the house one evening with Daniel for dinner.”
“That would be lovely.”
“We’ll set something up. Enjoy the rest of your night, Cheryl.”
I lean in and hug her. “It was great to meet you, and I look forward to seeing you again soon.”
Jeremy pulls me away then, keeping a firm grip on my waist. “I had a feeling you’d like Daniel’s fiancée, and I approve. The other men talk, and it doesn’t look good that you don’t mix well with their wives. This will give you a chance to redeem yourself.”
I’ve never wanted to smash my fist in his face as badly as I do right now, but I rein my anger in, plastering a faux smile on my lips as we walk across the ballroom.
Jeremy stops at the door, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Jenna has managed to get herself into a bit of a predicament, and I need you to go to the restroom and retrieve her. Bring her to the back entrance where Michael will meet you.”
“Of course. I’ll take care of it.”
Predicament is code word for smashed, and it’s not the first time Michael’s new wife has made a spectacle of herself at one of these events. If I had to guess, I’d say she has an official drinking problem.
“Thank you, darling.” Jeremy presses a quick kiss to my mouth, firmly slapping my ass as I slip out of the room.
I walk briskly along the corridor toward the bathroom, absorbed in thought, wondering how I can find a way to warn Cheryl without putting myself at risk, so I’m not paying attention to my surroundings. I slam into something solid, lose my balance, and tip back on my heels, falling backward toward the ground.
Warm, strong arms slide around my waist, holding me upright. “Eva?”
Little shivers dance over my skin at the sound of the familiar, deep voice. A voice like rich, molten chocolate, decadent and seductive, and dripping with temptation. It’s a voice that haunts me in my dreams. I squeeze my eyes shut even as the musky scent of his cologne drifts around me, enveloping me in a haze of longing.
“Eva.” He keeps his hand pressed on my lower back as I straighten up. “Look at me.” Heat from his skin threads a web along my face as he tips my chin up with one finger. “Please open your eyes.”
With my heart galloping in my chest and blood thrumming in my ears, I slowly blink my eyes open.
Beautiful blue eyes pin me in place, and the look on his face turns my limbs to Jell-O. It’s just as well he’s holding me up, because my knees feel like they’re buckling underneath me. My hand has a mind of its own, sliding up his neck and cupping his face. “Kaden. My God. It’s been so long, and I’ve missed you so much.”
Chapter Four
Past – Sophomore Year of College
Kaden
I rap three times on her office door, shuffling anxiously on my feet as I wait for her to open it. Prickles of awareness sweep over my skin in expectation, and I wipe my clammy hands down the front of my jeans. It’s the same every week since Eva agreed to personally tutor me. I’m addictively attracted to her, and the more time I spend in her company, the worse it’s becoming.
I guess I must love torturing myself, because lusting after her from afar hasn’t been enough for me. I had to go the extra mile—to torment myself week in, week out by enduring the pleasure-pain of our weekly studying sessions.
The door swings open, and she looms large in front of me—this tiny, little powerhouse of a woman who fills my world to the point where I see nothing or no one else. And I know this obsession is pointless—she’s married and she’s my professor, so nothing is going to happen—but I can’t seem to help myself.
Since our first meeting, over a year ago, I have not been able to get this woman out of my head. It’s the main reason why I changed my schedule, ensuring I was in one of her classes again this year.
“You’re a little early, Mr. Kennedy. I’m just finishing up with another student, if you don’t mind waiting out here for a few minutes.”
“Of course not,” I say, stepping back and dropping into one of the seats lined up against the wall. “Take your time.”
I drum my fingers off my knee as I wait outside. The door swings open about five minutes later, and a tall, good-looking guy emerges, grinning like all his Sundays have come at once. “Don’t forget to look up those sites I suggested,” Eva tells him. “You’ll find plenty of research material for your thesis there.”
“Thank you so much, Professor. I’ll definitely do that. And thanks for your time. It’s been illuminating.” His eyes trail a path over her body from head to toe, and he makes no attempt to disguise it. Zeroing in on her breasts, his eyes darken, and his tongue darts out, licking his lips. “It’s always a pleasure,” he murmurs, still not taking his eyes off her chest, and I’m two seconds away from flattening him into the ground. My shoulders cord into knots as I stand up, s
taring the guy down, my hands balling into fists at my side.
I mean, I know every guy on campus has a hard-on for Professor Garcia, and I’ve had my fair share of lustful thoughts about her over the last year, but that doesn’t give any dude the right to objectify her in such a crude, blatant manner.
I’m embarrassed for the male race.
Eva’s eyes narrow and her mouth turns down. Looking past the douche, she eyeballs me. “You can come in now, Mr. Kennedy, and I apologize for keeping you waiting.”
I purposely shoulder check the guy as I brush past, and he smirks at me, whistling as he strolls off with his hands in his pockets like he hasn’t a care in the world.
I step into her small office, and she slams the door shut with more force than necessary. Stalking to her desk, she drops into her chair with a heavy sigh, rubbing a tense spot between her brows.
“He was way out of line,” I blurt. “And you should kick him off your tutoring program. The asshole doesn’t deserve it.”
She huffs out another exaggerated sigh. “I appreciate your concern, Kaden, but I can handle the likes of Todd. Unfortunately, it’s something I’m all too familiar with around here.”
I pull out a chair and sit down. “You have to put up with that kind of shit a lot?”
She props her elbows on her desk. “Not all the time, but it happens on occasion.”
“You should report that. It’s not right, and no one would dare objectify any of the male professors in the same way.”
“I completely agree but I’m still relatively new here, and I can’t afford to rock the boat.”
She’s shared some of her concerns regarding the tentative nature of her position with me previously, so I understand where she’s coming from. While Eva’s the consummate professional, and she’s always focused on the agenda, I’ve come to love our casual chats at the end of each session, and it’s given me greater insight into the woman at the center of my unhealthy obsession. I get the feeling she doesn’t engage in chit-chat with any of her other students, although that could be my ego speaking. I like to think the fact we first met when there were no labels or restrictions means we’re more relaxed around one another, which is why she feels comfortable talking with me.
Whatever the reason, I live for these sessions, starting a countdown to the next one as soon as one ends.
I tried hard to put her out of my mind when I first discovered she was my teacher, but forgetting a woman like Eva is no easy feat. It’s ironic that I only need tutoring because I’ve fallen behind in her class thanks to zoning out so regularly. It’s hard to concentrate when the woman occupying a starring role in my dreams hypnotizes me with that alluring voice of hers.
I had no idea when I approached her for tutoring that she’d volunteer to do it herself. She only takes on a handful of students to personally tutor during the year, and I couldn’t help reading into that, which is ridiculous, because she’s never given me any indication she feels even a tenth of what I feel for her.
She sighs again, exasperation bleeding into the air.
“There are so many things wrong with that statement.” I’m fuming on her behalf, because she’s suggesting the kind of assholery I just witnessed isn’t anything unusual. The thought of any of those jerks treating her like that makes my blood boil.
Eva is the youngest professor on campus and she’s damn smart. Her class is always full, and it’s not just because every male wants to drool but because she makes a difficult subject interesting and easier to comprehend. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like a piece of ass, no more than any woman does, but especially not someone with such intelligence and class.
“I know, and I wish I could do something about it, but this job means everything to me. I don’t want to risk losing it.”
“Do you want me to have a word with him?” That’s code for punch his lights out, and I’m sure she knows it.
“Absolutely not.” Her voice hardens. “And, like I said, I can handle it.”
“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, you only need to ask.”
Her features soften. “Thank you, Kaden. I appreciate that.”
I pull a card out of my wallet, handing it to her. “Keep that in your purse and call me anytime. Honestly, it’s no problem.”
She places the card to one side of her desk, running the tip of her finger over the embossed lettering. “Are you working with your mother now?”
“I’ve worked with her the last couple of summers, and I help out with stuff when I have some downtime, but it’s not anything regular. She wants me to focus on my studies. To get the best degree I can.”
She nods. “Your mother sounds like a very smart woman.”
“She is. She basically transformed an ailing business into a billion-dollar global brand. She’s had to work her butt off for her success, but she deserves every bit of it.”
Eva’s eyes glimmer with warmth. “I’d love to meet her sometime. Kennedy Apparel would make a great case study.”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “I can set up a meeting, no problem, but I’d rather you didn’t use my mom’s company for a case study. I try to blend in.”
A look of understanding appears on her face, and she nods. “I understand, and I would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Thank you.”
Of course, she doesn’t know that things are still strained with my mom. Especially since we’ve just discovered she lied to James for years about the fact my younger brother Kyler isn’t his son. Ky’s taken off to speak to the asshole sperm donor, and my nerves are strung real tight at the moment.
“Hey, is everything okay?” Concern underscores her tone, and compassion radiates in her gaze.
“No, not really.” I surprise myself with my honest response and how eager I am to open up to this woman. Tiffani’s been asking me the same thing for days, but I shut her down each and every time. She seems to have misconstrued our casual hook-ups for something else, and I’m having a hard time shaking her off. I’m not in the market for a girlfriend, but that seems to go in one ear and out the other.
Eva’s eyes infiltrate mine, and I’m not sure what she sees reflected in my gaze, but she’s on her feet, ushering me toward the small couch. “I’m a good listener, and I won’t judge.” She sits down, patting the space alongside her, and I find myself sinking onto the couch, our knees brushing in the process.
Without stopping to overthink it, I start talking. I spill my guts, unburdening all the shit that’s been cluttering my head since I found out James isn’t my bio dad. She doesn’t interrupt me, but she takes my hand, squeezing it at certain key moments, and I cling to her touch as I relieve my soul.
Daylight is fading outside the window when I finally finish talking, and I’m physically and mentally exhausted. Slouching, I keep a firm grip on her hand, rubbing my thumb in lazy circles along the top of her skin. This is the first time she has ever initiated physical contact, and I’m not ready to let go of her yet. “Now you know it all. The Kennedys’ dirty little secrets.” My bitter laugh is harsh. “Everyone thinks we’re perfect, and that money fixes everything, but isn’t it incredible how different things look under the surface?”
She leans back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “Not really. Few things are as they seem. You’d be amazed at how often the perception is vastly different from reality.” Something in her tone alerts me to the rawness of her observation.
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” I twist my head to look at her.
She turns around, so we’re facing one another with our heads leaning on the back of the couch. My hand is still wrapped around hers, and the intimacy of the moment is suddenly clear. We just stare at one another, and the charge of static electricity I often feel in her company crackles in the small space between us. Conflict wars on her face, but I keep
quiet, allowing her to process stuff in her own time. A small tear sneaks out of the corner of one eye, trickling down her cheek. Without stopping to question it, I lift my hand and smooth the tear away with my thumb.
She gulps, and the look of utter despair on her face is like a dagger straight through my heart. I want to grab whoever put that look there and end them. “Sometimes I wish I could return to my childhood,” she says softly. “To live in that cocoon I created for myself, where everything was a fairy tale and the world was my oyster. Where doubts and fears and regret had no home. Where there was only hope and possibility.”
“Sometimes I wish I could remove my brain and replace it with a new, shiny clean version. One without all the shit that keeps getting in the way,” I admit.
She smiles sadly. “Yet here we are. The same people in the same bodies with the same lives. Wishful thinking is just that.” Her eyes flit to where our fingers are entwined, and, as if she’s only just noticed, she slides her hand out of mine, sitting upright and smoothing the wrinkles out of her pants. She glances out the window. “It’s late, and I don’t think your mind is in the right space for dissecting the finer points of empirical and mathematical reasoning.” Her eyes are pained when she looks back at me. “I’ll schedule an extra hour onto your session next week so we can catch up.”
Nodding, I sit up straighter, swiveling a little so we’re facing one another. I clear my throat. “The sentiment works both ways, you know.” I gesture between us. “I’m a great listener too, and if you need to talk, I’m here for you.”
Silence pervades the room. Her chest visibly inflates and deflates as she stares at me. So many conflicting emotions appear on her face. When she speaks, her voice is barely more than a whisper. “I wish I could talk to you, Kaden, but the words I want to say can never leave these lips, and there’s no way I want to drag you into my shit.”
“I don’t—”
Seducing Kaden (The Kennedy Boys Book 6) Page 4