Comfort Zone

by Missy Johnson

  Everything she does turns me on. From the way she bites her lip when I penetrate her, to the look of determination in her eyes when she came down on my cock. My body doesn't stand a chance in hell against her, so I give in. I lean forward and press my lips onto hers, devouring her, while I’m buried inside her pussy. My cock throbs as her slick walls contract around me.

  “Fuck.”

  I bounce her on my cock as the pressure builds to breaking point. My cock spasms, and then I release. Hard. So hard that the room begins to spin. I jerk forward, thrusting her body against mine. I lock my mouth on hers as I continue to come, her tongue curling around mine as her pussy contracts around me.

  She keeps riding me, her movements slowing as I come down from my high. Then she lifts herself off me and snuggles in my arms. I kiss her sweaty, sticky forehead, while she smiles at me.

  “So...” She grins at me and I laugh. “There was talk of dinner? Because now I’m ravenous.”

  I shake my head, because I’m not surprised she’s worked up an appetite.

  #

  We spend the rest of the evening talking over Chinese takeaway after I lose the energy to cook us dinner. We lay on the couch together, feeling comfortable in each other's arms.

  At some point, I must have fallen asleep, and I wake up just after midnight. I’m still tired; I can barely keep my eyes open. I glance at Becca and realize she’s fallen asleep.

  With great difficulty, I slide out from under her without waking her, then I carefully lift her into my arms and carry her to the bedroom. She stirs when I place her on the cool sheet but nestles in my arms. I breathe out, relieved when she doesn’t wake. I lay there, just watching her sleep and I find myself smiling. I love how sweet and innocent she looks when she’s asleep. I love how she makes me laugh, and how she makes me feel like I’m worth something.

  Her eyes flicker, then they open. It takes her a minute to remember where she is.

  “What time is it?” she asks, yawning.

  “Late. After midnight.”

  She winces. “I should go.”

  “Why not stay?” I ask her.

  There’s nothing more I want than to wake up with her next to me.

  “Because I have class—we have class in a few hours. I’ve got nothing to wear, not to mention the fact that all my books and my laptop are back at home.”

  I nod. She’s right. I’ll see her in just a few hours, anyway.

  In the classroom.

  Because I’m her professor.

  It’s easy to forget that small complication, because she’s so much older than my other students. But it doesn’t make it any less forbidden. And it doesn’t make it consequences any less severe. Especially when my father is looking for any excuse to fire me. I watch her climb out of the bed and walk across to the door, her naked silhouette making my cock react. She walks out into the hallway, then reappears with her clothes a few seconds later. I watch her dress, enjoying the show she’s putting on for me.

  “Would you stop staring at me?” she chastises, but I can tell she's enjoying the attention.

  She buttons up her jeans and then walks back over to the bed and climbs on top of me, so she’s straddling me. I groan, stroking her the curve of her back, while she kisses me, her movements both slow and deliberate. I groan as she grinds her hips into me, my erection throbbing as it presses against her pussy, through her jeans.

  “Maybe I should cancel class today,” I mutter. “I can teach you a few lessons instead.”

  “Yes, I’m sure the president would love that.”

  She’s only teasing, but the mention of my father is an instant erection killer.

  “Well, that went downhill quickly,” she says, her eyes lit with amusement as she stares at my limp dick.

  “Because fucking you all day isn’t something I want to think about, unless we can actually do it.”

  She smiles as she eases herself off me, letting me stand up. I throw on a pair of pants, so I can walk her out, then take her hand and walk out into the living room.

  “Sure you won’t stay?” I ask her one last time.

  “I better not,” she grimaces.

  Outside, I walk her to her car. I kiss her, my mouth lingering on hers, until she opens the car door. I sigh, because I can’t get enough of those soft, sweet lips. I smirk, because the same comment applies to the ones down below, too.

  “I guess I'll see you soon,” she says, gazing into my eyes.

  She gets into the car and lowers the window. I lean on the frame as she starts the ignition. She turns on the headlights, then looks up at me when she’s ready to go.

  “Text me when you get home,” I request. “I’ll see you in class. And Becca?” I ask;

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll be reading every single message you send.”

  She lifts her eyebrows and smiles, her eyes narrowing as they settle on mine.

  “In that case, I’ll make them extra dirty.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Becca

  I stand out the front of the lecture hall the next morning, waiting for Amy to arrive. I don’t want to walk in there alone, because I don’t know what we’re facing. The last few students slowly trickle in. I glance at my phone, aware that I’m running out of time. I know Liam is in there already. I didn’t think I’d be nervous about seeing him, but I’m stressing about that as well, to the point where I barely slept last night anyway.

  Maybe I should’ve just stayed over.

  Maybe seeing him this morning would have made this less difficult. My biggest fear is that everyone knows. I’m probably being paranoid, but having that photo on Facebook, and that video…I’d been trying to get the video removed, but no such luck. What if someone saw it?

  I glance at my phone. It’s after nine, so I’m technically late, and the few texts I’ve sent Amy have gone unanswered. I have to go in. I take a deep breath and push through the heavy, glass doors. I walk up the stairs, to my seat, my body tense and on alert. But there’s no whispers or giggles. Nobody is staring at me. Nobody calls me out for sleeping with the professor. Nobody seems to be paying attention to me at all. Well, one person is, but I’m okay with that.

  Liam sits at his desk, his eyes following me as I move across the room. I sit down, my gaze briefly meeting his. He lifts his eyebrows, then turns his attention to whatever is on his desk. I sink into my seat and smile.

  Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

  I look up as Amy breezes through the doors. She sinks into the seat next to me, out of breath and red faced. I smile, because I’m happy to see her.

  “Jesus, what a fucking day,” she whispers. “I lost my fucking phone and then the car wouldn’t start.” She pants and shrugs off her jacket, stuffing it under the chair. “Is it bad I don’t even know your number? Without my contacts list, I’m fucked. I couldn’t even call my mother.”

  I laugh. “No. I’d struggle, too. There might be a couple of numbers I have memorized, but the rest…”

  “And would one of those numbers belong to a very sexy, pro—”

  “Maybe,” I cut in. I don’t want anyone to overhear her. “Can I fill you in later?”

  “I hear that’s what he said.”

  I choke back a laugh and turn on my laptop.

  Liam calls for attention, and the whispers in the room die down, until there is silence. He rises from his seat and strolls over to his stand. I smile at him, my heart racing when he ever so slightly raises his eyebrows.

  God, he looks good that suit…

  “Good morning, everyone,” Liam begins.

  He paces the front of the room slowly, looking out over his students. “We have a test tomorrow. You’ll remember me talking about it last week. Would someone like to fill me in on what that test might be about?”

  Silence fills the room, until a voice in the middle pipes up.

  “Or we could just sleep with you and bypass the studying. I hear it works a treat for some students.”

&
nbsp; A shocked whisper rolls through the classroom. I freeze, my stomach churning. I had to have heard wrong. That could not have just happened. But the expression on Liam’s face tells me it did. He frowns at the student. Amy nudges me. I glance at her. She gives me a sympathetic smile, making it obvious to anyone around us that I’m the student in question.

  “How about we talk about your private life instead?” he asks pointedly. “I’m just saying, I’ve heard rumors about you, too, but I don’t go spreading them around.” Liam nods when there’s no response. “I didn't think so. But since you’re obviously so well prepared, how about we have that test now?”

  An annoyed groan fills the room. Even though no name was mentioned, I feel like people know. This is all my fault. It was that stupid photo. I don't know why I thought that no one would've seen it. Of course they would.

  Like every other test I take, I finish well before the allocated time. Normally I’d leave, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. So I sit there and wait, staring at the screen on my laptop, wishing time would hurry up. My stomach churns as I try to come up with a way of dealing with this. I don’t look at Liam, just in case someone is watching. How can I blame people for thinking that I'm getting an easy pass when I pretty much said that in the caption? So stupid.

  A message pops up on my screen from Liam.

  Professor Sullivan: Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure this out.

  Me: I’m sorry. This is all my fault.

  A message pops up from Amy.

  A: Are you okay?

  Me to Amy: I’m fine. Annoyed at myself.

  Professor Sullivan: You made a mistake. It happens. Don’t punish yourself over it. We’ll figure this out.

  Me to Professor Sullivan: Thank you.

  I click on the message service when I hear another beep and look up.

  Anonymous: Why even bother taking the test when it's a certain A?”

  I feel sick as I look around at the sea of faces. God, this is a mess. How many people are sitting here, thinking the same thing? How many of them know it’s me? I examine every face I can, but no one gives anything away. Liam would be able to tell me who sent the message, only I don't want him to know.

  Five minutes before the lecture finishes, another message from Liam pops through.

  Professor Sullivan: After class, go around to the outside of the theater. There’s another door into this room.

  The second it finishes, I stand up and hurry out, telling Amy I’ll call her later. My first stop is the bathroom. I need to compose myself before I see Liam. I stare at my reflection in the mirror and take a deep breath. He’s going to know something is wrong, but I’m hoping I can pass it off as what that kid said in class. I breathe in, filling my lungs with air and then release, shaking off my anxieties. I stare at my reflection in the mirror one more time, then I turn around and walk out.

  Liam stands just inside the door, waiting for me. I squeeze past him, into what feels like a storage closet. I know it’s a risk, meeting him here, but if he’s willing to take it, then so am I. Pressed right up against him, I have very little room, but I don’t mind. After everything that’s happened, it’s comforting, being this close to him.

  He stares at me, his eyes clouded with concern and arousal. His fingers sneak beneath my sweater as he strokes my skin, the feel of his touch against my me both relaxing and exciting.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, frowning at me.

  “I’m fine. I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be. I can handle myself,” he grins, a twinkle in his eye.

  I touch his face and bring my lips up to his. He groans as I roll my tongue around his, my mouth tingling from his touch. With every kiss, his intensity rivals mine. I brush my thigh over his crotch, to confirm what I already know. Then I pull away. I don’t bother to hide my amusement. I love that just kissing me turns him on that much.

  “Thanks for that. Exactly what I needed,” he chuckles.

  He runs his hand through his hair, the dark circles around his eyes more evident than they were before.

  “You look tired.” I observe.

  “I am. I don’t think I slept last night. I couldn’t turn my mind off.”

  “I didn’t either,” I admit. But I look more together than he does. I might not feel it, but still…

  “Maybe you need to take a day and just rest, do nothing else?” I suggest.

  “Are you offering to help with that?”

  My lips curve into a smile.

  “That would defeat the purpose of nothing else,” I tease. “You need sleep tonight, Professor. Come over to my place tomorrow night. For dinner.” I’m sure I can think of some ways to help ease that tension, too.”

  He kisses me softy on the lips.

  “Okay. But I’m not happy about it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Becca

  “So, are you and dad still going out tonight?”

  I glance at Mom and grab an apple from the bowl on the kitchen counter. I carefully examine it for bruises while I wait for her to answer.

  “Yes...are you asking me that for any particular reason?”

  It’s the next afternoon and I’m making sure the coast is clear for Liam to come over. I know—I’m twenty-seven. I don’t have to sneak a guy in, but at the same time, exposing a guy to my family could spell the end of a relationship. I look at Mom when I feel her watching me. Her eyes are narrowed into tight slits.

  Dad appears in the doorway, giving me the perfect distraction from this conversation.

  “Hey,” I say. “Look, Dad’s home.”

  I hurry over to him and throw my arm over his shoulder, helping him at him sit down at the table, pretending I haven’t noticed him rocking that walking cast like a ninja.

  “How was work?” I ask him. “You look thirsty. Drink?”

  He chuckles and looks at Mom, who shakes her head.

  “Becca,” Mom sighs.

  “What?” I turn back to Mom.

  So much for that.

  “I asked you why you’re suddenly so interested in our social schedule?”

  “I asked about one night,” I sigh and quit the act. “If you must know, thought I would cook dinner, and I wanted to know how many to prep for.”

  Both my parents stare at me. Like the idea of me cooking is ridiculous. Now that I think about it, I guess it is. Maybe that was the wrong cover.

  “You’re cooking? You? Because I’d cancel my plans for that,” Dad chortles.

  “You know how bad my cooking is,” I explain, thinking on my feet. “I’m going to need a lot of practice before I produce anything remotely edible, so I wouldn’t go canceling plans.”

  “Okay, good,” Mom nods. “I do hope you’re being serious, Becca. It would be nice to have a little more help around here.” She looks at her watch and sighs. “I better go and get ready.”

  Dad sighs and gets to his feet. “That’s usually a hint for me, too.”

  After they finally leave, I have a quick shower and change into a pair of skinny jeans and a low cut top. I regret my choice of jeans about fifteen minutes later, because I’m still trying to pull them on.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” I huff, squirming around on my bed, trying to wriggle them over my thighs. The problem is, I’ve committed so far that getting them off would take me just as long, by this point.

  Finally, they’re on. I relax, but it’s short lived, when the doorbell rings.

  Shit.

  I sprint to the door and pull it open, my heart racing. Liam smiles at me. He looks sexy in a pair of faded jeans and a fitted blue sweater.

  “Good evening.”

  He grabs my hand and pulls me closer so he can kiss me. I sigh when our lips meet, because I’ll never get tired of kissing him. He glances at the way my jeans hug my ass and nods appreciatively.

  “I look forward to getting you out of them later.”

  “You seem pretty sure of yourself,” I tease. “And you should know, the
se jeans took me twenty minutes to squirm into.”

  “Didn’t you hear? I’m a sure thing.” He glances at my jeans again. “I’ll have you out of them in five.”

  I laugh. We’ll see about that.

  “How was work? Any developments on yesterday?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Nothing at all, not that it’s something for you to worry about”

  “I know, but I was expecting Mr. Michaels to speak with you.”

  I frown, a pit forming in my stomach. Mr. Michaels had to have heard something, so why hadn’t he spoken with either of us about it? Whether he believed the rumors or not, surely he’d need to follow up on something like that?

  “Maybe he hasn’t heard the rumors?” he Liam suggests, like he can read my thoughts.

  “Maybe.” I murmur.

  “So.” Liam smirks at me in a way that makes my knees go weak. “Can I come in, or did you invite me over to the outside of your house?”

  “Sorry,” I wince, I let him in.

  I lead him through the living room, and into the kitchen

  “Nice,” he comments as he looks around. “I love that mirror.”

  “Thanks,” I giggle. “I’ll be sure to tell Mom that you approve of her decorating skills.”

  “You live with your parents?” His eyes sparkle with amusement as he studies the photos on the walls. There is no shortage of photos of me. Looking around these walls, it was obvious that they love me.

  “It was either that or I didn’t go back to follow my dream.”

  “It must have been hard, giving up your independence.”

  “Lots of kids live with their parents well into their thirties.”

  “True, but most of them haven’t tasted freedom. You don’t miss what you’ve never had...”

  “Speaking of tasting things…” He raises his eyebrows and laughs. I shake my head. “I meant dinner,” I retort. “I was going to cook, then I thought why would I torture you like that? I’ll save that for when I want to scare you away.”

  “Then I hope not to taste your food anytime soon.”

  I like the sound of that.

  “What I can manage to do is throw together some dip?”