by Vikes, Emma
I wasn’t sure what had happened after the bullet went through me. I fainted, of course, and all I remembered before I blacked out was Britney rushing to me and cradling me as I bled in front of the restaurant. I woke up in a hospital a day after, the bullet removed and my skin stitched back. I was alone in the room until Chris came in to find me awake.
I told him everything right after. My mother had admitted that she’d been the one who’d sent the gunman for Britney so she was with the police at that time. But Chris had wanted to talk to me. Britney had been hysterical and was telling Chris that I was the one she was with and not whoever the guy was my mother had made him believe she was with. Lauren explained everything to Chris too but he’d still wanted my side of the story.
Chris hadn’t been happy with the truth. Had I not been in a hospital bed, I was sure that he would’ve beaten me up for what I’d done to his daughter. He’d asked me if I was in love with Britney and I’d told him the truth, that I truly was, that there wasn’t a girl in the world I wanted to be with other than his daughter, but our situation had made it difficult for me to be with her.
In the end, Chris had divorced my mother. Despite the feelings he’d had for her, it wasn’t enough to stay with a woman who’d plotted to kill his daughter. He’d also sued her for attempted murder, but it was then that we’d found out that my mother was mentally unstable and had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, which had been triggered after Paula’s death and my father’s abandonment. Due to her medical condition, she couldn’t be imprisoned but was sent to a mental facility, which was where I was now.
“Patrick?”
I smiled and stood up from my seat, kissing her forehead. “Hi, mom.”
She looked up at me and smiled, her eyes slightly glazed which meant her medicine was working and she was with me at the moment. My mother was suffering from voices in her head and they had forced her to do the things she’d done. Her actions were unforgivable but, when I look at the bright side of things, I end up realizing that had my mother not presented the idea to me, I wouldn’t have had the courage to pursue Britney. Maybe we’d had sex before my mother had told me her plan, but I knew that we would both have pretended that nothing had happened between the two of us.
“How are you?” she asked as I sat on her bed. She reached for my hand and laced my fingers with hers. We’d never acted this affectionate towards each other until she’d been sent here. At first, she struggled and refused to come to terms with her illness, but slowly she’d accepted everything. It was slow progress, but it was progress nonetheless.
“Tomorrow we’re going to open Prax Exchange and I can’t help but wish you were there to see me open my first company.”
Mom smiled slightly. “I wish I could, Pat, more than anything but we both know that’s impossible.”
I nodded my head in understanding. “As long as you’re getting better each day.”
She squeezed my hand. “It’s progress, son.”
It was already dark and I was still in my new office at Prax Exchange. Alex and I had teamed up for this company to happen and now it was real and tangible and tomorrow would be its opening day. I’d never been happier. It was a money exchange company, which had started as a small business for me and Alex ten months ago and now it had grown into this.
“Alex told me you’d be here.”
I looked up and smiled when I saw Britney coming into my office. “Just making sure that everything is ready for tomorrow.”
Britney forgave me the moment I awoke in the hospital. After I’d explained everything to Chris, he’d given us his blessing for our relationship. It’d caused quite a stir with the public, but everything had died down eventually and Britney and I were in love and together, officially and publicly.
She slowly walked up to me and placed a hand on my chest, slowly inching to my face where she gently stroked my chin. “You know, we never really discussed anything about having sex in the office.”
I chuckled. “You and your fetish of having sex in public.”
But I didn’t deny her any request. My mouth hungrily crashed against hers as her hands immediately opened the buttons of my shirt. We were so familiar with each other that we had each other naked in a matter of seconds. I placed her on my desk and spread her legs apart so I could stand between them, my mouth latching onto her right breast as my other hand massaged her left.
“Patrick,” she gasped, calling my name.
“Yes, love?”
She smirked at me and then kissed me. “It’s not my favorite position but…” Britney pushed me away gently and bent down, her ass up in the air and her hands firmly placed on the table. “Fuck me from behind, my love.”
I didn’t need to be told twice and I relished the fact that she wasn’t asking for foreplay even when we both knew she loved it when I ate her pussy. I rammed my hard dick into her ass hole and she gasped at the impact. My hands gripped her waist as my thrusts quickened, my balls slamming against her ass as I fucked her from behind.
“Fuck, god, this feels so fucking good. Your ass is so fucking tight,” I murmured behind her ear and my hand reached down to her pussy. I slipped two fingers inside and fucked her with my hand too.
“Oh god,” Britney moaned, her eyes shut tight as I fucked her in both of her holes, giving her a tidal wave of pleasure.
She shuddered beneath me as she rode her climax and then I felt her body relax. I continued thrusting inside of her and I tensed as I neared my own climax. I tapped Britney’s hip and then slid out of her and she immediately knelt in front of me, opening her mouth as I pumped my dick until I reached my release. I showered her with my cum.
It took us a moment to collect ourselves. I slid down next to her on the floor and she rested her head on my shoulder. “If it wasn’t night, I wouldn’t have done this for you.”
I laughed and then kissed her hand. “I love you, Britney Baldwin. You are the very best thing that has happened to me.”
Britney placed a hand on my cheek and then caressed my cheek with her thumb. “Better than this company?”
I nodded my head and then pulled her closer to me, wrapping my arms around her. “More than anything that this world could ever offer me.”
* * *
THE END
A Note From The Author
Thank you for taking the time to read my book. I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story.
* * *
Can I ask for your honest feedback on the book? It would mean a lot to me if you could leave me a review on Amazon.
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Reviews are the lifeblood of any author’s career. And I am no exception.
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Readers’ reviews on Amazon really do make a difference. You too can make that difference by leaving your valuable honest review about this book on Amazon.
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I appreciate you supporting me. Thank you so much.
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Cheers!
Emma Vikes
Too Bad… I Couldn’t Resist (A Sneak Peek)
Teaser
She is mine to be pleasured. She is mine to be claimed. And she is mine to be taught.
Wanna join the special class with the dashing Economics Professor Howard Jones and ravishing Susan Fowler? Then stick around!
* * *
Susan is completely off limit because she is a student from my freshman lectures.
But one look at her perfect hourglass figure and that infectious warm smile, O-M-G! I know I am in big trouble!!!
She is like a magnet that keeps attracting me.
The raw attraction that sizzles inside me is driving me crazy whenever I find her in my close proximity.
The more I want to resist, the deeper it goes into my veins.
And the moment she kissed me, all the rational thoughts, inhibitions and common sense left us forever.
I know my successful career will be at stake but I don’t give a damn.
I will break all the rules to make her
mine forever.
But will it be a smooth ride for both Susan & Howard?
* * *
“Too Bad… I Couldn’t Resist” is the first book in the Too Bad series of standalone contemporary romance novellas with guaranteed HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
* * *
Hotness Alert!!!
If you want a super naughty session with a hot as hell professor who knows exactly how to keep your nights extra busy, then you know where to find him…
Chapter 1
Howard
The Department of Economics building appeared in front of me as I cleared the walkway; the very same one that passed through the cordoned area with light vegetation which was both a park and outdoor sitting area for economics students. The trees had initially blocked the building from view, but now that I was in the clear, I had an unhindered line of sight.
My pace quickened as I bore down on the building, a sense of urgency spurring me on. I had a class scheduled for 9 am and I was already running late.
In fewer steps than normal, I arrived at the department building and walked through its doors. The first thing that caught my attention was the clock that hung on the wall of the reception.
8:55 am.
“Darn it!” I swore under my breath.
I still had to get to my office and pick up the notes that I had stayed back to work on late last night. Even at my current pace, I couldn’t complete that task and still get to class before 9 am.
“Those notes!” I swore again under my breath.
I had tried to convince myself that the notes I had stayed back to work on were the reason I was late this morning. But somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind, I already knew the real reason why I was late.
I had finished working on the notes by 8:30 pm and still hadn’t got home before midnight, even though my house was only about 20 minutes away from campus.
My mind began reeling as the events after 8:30 pm last night flashed through.
I was already done with the notes and about to leave when there was a light rasp on my office door. At first I’d thought it was just the wind and the emptiness of the department playing tricks on me, so I returned to shutting down my computer and preparing to leave.
The light rasp on the door had sounded again.
This time I was sure it was no trick and someone was really at the door. I’d stood up and headed for the door when I heard a light shuffling as if the intruder was preparing to leave. My pace had quickened as I hurried to reach the door and open it, my mind already abuzz with images of someone spying on me.
“Who’s there?” I’d called out, and immediately I pulled the door open.
The intruder had stopped their retreat then and turned around at my inquisition.
It was Prof. Bailey, the hot, unmarried psychology professor who had joined the faculty only two months ago.
“I figured you might still be around and decided to take you up on your offer of sharing a glass of red wine.” She’d finally responded; in her hands were a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses.
I’d heard a slight tremor in her voice which she had masked almost immediately. She was obviously nervous and rethinking her actions, hence the light rasps she had made on my office door. I’d also remembered the offer of drinks she was referring to.
About a month ago, there’d been a dinner for the outgoing psychology head of department and most senior faculty members from all the departments had been invited. I’d met here then and had flirted with her. She’d been on her own and drinking a glass of water when everyone else was already on their second or third glasses of champagne. I’d eventually found out that she hated champagne and preferred red wine instead. In usual Howard Jones fashion, I’d offered to meet up later and share a bottle of red wine while we trade stories. I’d completely forgotten about that till she’d reminded me.
“Sure. Please come in.” I’d offered.
She’d walked uncertainly back towards me as I stepped aside and allowed her pass through into my office. Her nervousness had remained even after I’d shut the door and we’d had one or two sips of wine from our glasses. Then everything had gotten pretty intense, rather quickly.
A bulge began to form in my pant trousers as the memories continued to flood my mind.
I arrived at the door to my office and pulled my keys out of my pocket as the memories continued to assault me.
“Good morning Professor Jones.” The sultry voice of one of my female students, who was in her sophomore year, snapped me out of my reverie. Lost in a flashback, I hadn’t noticed her arrival or presence.
“Shouldn’t you be in class by now, Vivian?” I queried, struggling to keep my voice straight and pausing to look at my wristwatch.
It was 9 o’clock.
“Yes, sir,” she said, a seductive smile slowly spreading across her lips as her eyes travelled from my chest down to my crotch and back up to my eyes. “I just thought I could come by and ask you a few questions before class. Was having trouble understanding some of the points discussed in our last class.” She finished, biting her lip seductively. It was a subtle act, expertly masked with the look of confusion the girl had plastered on her face.
“Well we are already late for class. Any explanation would have to come after class,” I responded curtly, feigning ignorance of her quirks.
“Ok professor. Maybe I could come by your office after class?” she asked suggestively.
“Perfect,” I responded, still sounding stern. “Oh and by the way, I need to pick up some of my notes from the office. Could you help by taking my bag on to class?” I requested.
“Anything for you, professor,” she said as she stretched her hand to receive my bag.
I handed my bag over to her and maintained a straight expression when she let her fingers brush slightly against mine. She slung the bag across her shoulder, allowing the strap nudge her breasts slightly. My straight expression was still in place when I uttered the words “thank you” and watched her smile as she turned and headed for class.
I wasn’t a stranger to the flirting and attention I received from women. I knew already that I was a really handsome and dashing young man with well-sculpted and defined features. The fact that I was also seemingly successful at such a young age added to the ‘Howard Jones’ frenzy; at 27, I was the youngest Professor of Economics at the University of Florida and, in fact, the youngest professor ever in the history of the university. I was definitely not ignorant of my sex appeal to the ladies on campus.
In just the 8 months that I’d been made a professor and given a teaching role on the campus, I had several brief but highly satisfying affairs with female students and members of staff. Nothing serious though as the relationships were all unethical; at least that was the reason I gave every time I pulled the curtain on yet another affair. The truth however was I wasn’t ready to commit just yet. Plus there was never a shortage of admirers and women ready to cross the unethical line and have a sexual relationship with me.
My last sexual tryst only last night with Dr. Bailey was testament to this fact.
I chuckled as I finally proceeded to open my office door and walk in. The sophomore Vivian had landed in my lap of her own accord. She wasn’t a bad looking belle either.
‘I’ll have test how far she is willing to take her crush later today, when she comes by after class for the supposed explanation.’
With students, I had to be extra careful because of the laws prohibiting teacher-student relations. I most definitely didn’t need a broken-hearted female running to the dean and implicating me in a sexual scandal that would dent my very promising career which was already off to a flying start. Time had to be spent in accessing these female students’ mindsets before going any further; only when I was absolutely sure that they were the types to keep a secret could I proceed.
I reached my table and gathered the notes that had made me late in the first place.
‘Yes they were the reason for my latene
ss. If I hadn’t stayed back to work on them, Dr. Bailey wouldn’t have met me in this office. Not like I’m complaining anyways.’
Ten seconds later, I was locking my office door and on my way to class.
* * *
The day seemed to roll by as quickly as it had started. To make matters worse, the tardiness that had started in the morning continued throughout the rest of the day.
After the class at 9, I had gone straight into another class at 11. Then there was the departmental meeting at 1 that I was almost 15 minutes late for. Other events had taken up the remaining little time I could spare and now I was back behind my desk in my office, sifting through my emails.
One was from the mortgage company. I really needed to come up with a solution to my mortgage issues.
I finished reading the email and closed it, navigating to a search engine ready to continue with my research. The email hadn’t given me any hope of an easier payment plan. My request had been denied.
As I navigated through the new webpage, a pop-up advert suddenly flashed across my screen. I made to close the advert when some of its details caught my attention. It was a flyer advertising accommodation offers. The location wasn’t anywhere near but my mind started trying to work out and fine tune some details.
‘My house is big. A mansion by some standards.’
‘Can’t I do something similar and offer up some rooms for rent, most especially the rooms downstairs?’