I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his strong hands had felt on my body. Professor Marks wasn’t a bodybuilder or anything like that, but he possessed a surprisingly amount of strength. Knowing that he’d held me, a big girl, tightly and kept me upright made a shiver go down my spine.
If I was being truly honest, it made me do a lot more than just shiver. That night, Petra and I had come home and relaxed in front of a Gilmore Girls marathon with our snacks and the wine I’d grabbed from the shelf. I hadn’t even mentioned how my heart had been racing the whole time Professor Marks and I had been standing inches apart, but maybe Petra sensed it. Maybe I didn’t even have to say anything.
At any rate, we hadn’t discussed it. We’d talked about almost everything else: how the rest of our classes were going, how Petra had just started seeing this guy, Evan, who called her ‘Peter’ as a joke. She thought it was funny and even kind of cute.
Personally, I thought it was juvenile, but I knew Petra would take offense if I told her that. All I could think was, Professor Marks would never call me anything dumb like that.
I kept my mouth shut, though. I had to.
That night, when we’d gone to bed, I had been exhausted and half-drunk from the sticky, cloying pink wine. Petra and I had finished both bottles and it was a first for me – I lay in bed with the liquor sloshing around in my stomach and my head pounding. I felt bloated and almost sick. But when thoughts of Professor Marks came – and they did, before I could stop them – I felt almost instantly better. Just picturing his handsome face in my mind was practically enough to make the effects of the wine and the sugar subside.
Thinking about what had happened in the grocery store made my cheeks burn with shame and excitement. He had touched me – me! – and I’d been so frozen, so awestruck by it, that I’d just stood there, quivering like a little mouse.
I wished that I’d said something snappy and witty, like a woman from a romantic comedy who’s just bumped into Mr. Perfect. I wish that I’d winked and made a crack about how he’d saved me.
But no – I’d just stood there, practically drooling.
I should have been more ashamed than I really was. Now that Professor Marks was in my head, I closed my eyes and snuggled deep into the pillows. I wondered how it would feel for him to touch me naked, for him to run his hands all over my body and hold me.
Bad, I told myself as I rolled over and pulled the blankets over my head. That’s not going to happen, and you should really stop obsessing over him – it’s not healthy.
Now, Monday morning, it was a relief knowing that I wouldn’t have to deal with the sight of Professor Marks for at least another day. I got dressed in a comfy outfit – it was snowing outside, again – and trooped to campus alone with some coffee in a go-mug. Petra was staying in bed all day: she’d been out all Sunday night with Evan, and she claimed that she was too hungover to go to class.
The gulf between us seemed wider than ever that morning, and I had an uneasy feeling that things were just going to get worse. But that afternoon, after I’d finished with my classes and work, I was surprised to get home and see Petra curled up on the couch, hunched over her toenails with a bottle of nail polish in one hand.
“Oh, good, you’re home,” she said. “We’re going out tonight.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “I have a paper to write,” I told her.
“Yeah, well, when’s it due?”
I frowned.
“Not tomorrow,” Petra added. “I can tell.” She tossed her hair and I smelled a strong floral perfume.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her as I sat down, perching gingerly on the edge of the couch so that I wouldn’t disturb her handiwork.
“Nothing,” Petra huffed.
Now it was my turn to look skeptical, and I held her gaze for a long time, until she blushed.
“It’s just ... well, it’s really stupid,” she admitted. “But Evan and I were sharing our phone locations with each other on Snapchat, right?”
I nodded.
“And he told me that he was going straight home last night after he left,” she continued. “But I know he went out. His phone said he was at Marky’s for hours.”
“Maybe it was a glitch,” I offered.
Petra gave me a deadpan look. “Eden, seriously,” she said. “I don’t care that he went to a bar, but he lied about it – that’s why I’m pissed. I wonder if he was meeting someone there.” Before I could reply, she tossed her head again and kept going: “I mean, not that I’d care. It’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. But I really don’t want him lying to me like that. It just doesn’t seem fair.”
I pressed my lips together. “You want to go to the movies, or what?”
Petra groaned. You’re so boring, was what she clearly seemed to be thinking.
For once, I didn’t mind. Let me be boring, I thought. Let me just stay in and fantasize about my dumb professor and how much I want him to kiss me.
“There’s a party at Delt,” Petra said. “You in?”
I gazed at her skeptically.
“I know, I know, they’re kind of ... well, they don’t exactly have the best reputation,” she said. “But it’ll be fun, and there’s no cover.”
I frowned. “Are you doing this just to get back at Evan?” I asked.
“Eden, please,” Petra said. “You know me better than that, right?”
I shifted uneasily on the couch. I loved Petra – she was my best friend, after all. But there was a huge difference in our level of experience when it came to men. Petra had casually dated on and off since we’d started at Oakbrook almost three and a half years ago, whereas I’d never even had a boyfriend. It wasn’t really for my lack of interest, but guys our age just didn’t seem to be interested in me.
And to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t all that interested in the rituals of dating, anyway. Spending hours on my appearance and stuffing myself into tight clothing just to stand there awkwardly and make small talk with some guy who was probably only interested in sex?
No, thanks.
I’d have rather stayed at home and watched cute cat videos on YouTube, any day.
“Of course,” I said after a pause. “But it’s a school night. I have an early class tomorrow.”
“With Professor Hottie, right?” Petra cracked, and I blushed hotly.
“Don’t call him that,” I said quickly. “It’s so cringeworthy!”
Petra rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ll be fine,” she said. “He likes you, remember?”
I flushed harder, wishing that I’d never told her about how Professor Marks had singled me out in class that day.
“So, anyway, the party starts at nine,” Petra said. “Why not take a little disco nap and we’ll head out around nine-thirty?”
I sighed. I could already see that there was no way she was going to let me talk myself out of this situation. After nodding reluctantly, I went to my room and flopped down on my bed. I was exhausted, and the thought of staying up and being out for hours wasn’t exactly making me feel any better. But as soon as I lay down, my mind started spinning with thoughts of Professor Marks again, and I clenched my eyes shut.
I can’t keep thinking about him, I vowed. Even if it means going to this dumb party.
At nine-thirty on the dot, Petra and I left our apartment dressed in heavy parkas which concealed our “going-out” outfits. Petra had settled on a sequined black minidress that made her look like a model.
I didn’t exactly have the same forgiving genes or figure, and I’d decided to wear leggings with a loose, sparkly shirt leftover from New Year’s the year before. It wasn’t the most flattering outfit, but I didn’t feel like squeezing myself into some ridiculous dress if I was just going to be standing around and drinking keg beer.
The Delta Tau Delta house was packed to the gills with people laughing and drinking and shouting at each other. Petra disappeared almost immediately with a cute blonde guy, and I stood there awkwardly until another
guy shoved a beer into my hand and grinned at me.
“Hey, relax, it’s a party,” he said.
“I know,” I replied. Real witty, Cooper, I told myself in my head. I forced a smile. “I mean, sorry. I’m Eden.”
The guy smirked at me. “Nice name,” he said. “Your parents into porn or something?”
The horrifying thought made me blush and I shook my head. “No, no, my mom really loves John Milton, and—”
“Relax,” he said, laughing. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m John,” he added. “You go to Oakbrook?”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “I’m a senior,” I said. “English major.”
He nodded, and I sensed he was already losing interest in the conversation.
“You should come with me,” he said, giving me a wicked smile. He was cute – with teeth that were just crooked enough to be intriguing and dark hair swept off his forehead. His eyes gleamed with mischief and the way they traveled over the curves of my body made me flush.
“Why?” I asked.
He smirked again. “Just trust me,” he said. “Eden.”
I bit my lip and followed him through the crowded house. He reached for my hand as we snaked through clusters and groups of people – his touch was hot and sticky, and I tried to ignore the urge to yank my hand free and wipe my palm on my thigh.
Finally, John led me into the back yard where a group of drunk students were playing Twister on the grass. Girls were wearing bikinis and Ugg boots and pom-pom winter hats and laughing, and I immediately felt uncomfortable.
John, however, was clearly enjoying himself. “Relax,” he said again. “Chug your beer, let’s play.”
I did, but only in hopes that the beer would warm me up. I’d left my coat inside, in a heap on one of the beds with Petra’s, and I was already wishing that I’d brought it wish me.
“Hey, you’re cute when you do that,” John said as he watched me chug my beer. The booze made me queasy – I’d never liked the yeasty, thick taste of beer – but something about his smile was infectious and I returned it.
“So, let’s play,” John said. He clapped his hands and some of the Twister-players looked up. “This is Eden,” he announced, and people cheered. “We’re gonna join you guys.”
One of the bikini-clad girls giggled. “Good luck,” she teased. “I’m the state champion!” She and one of the other girls collapsed in giggles, and John clapped his hands together again.
“Disqualified!” He sounded buoyant and triumphant as he looked at me and winked. “You ready to win?”
I nodded. In spite of my better judgment, I was starting to have fun and relax. The beer had worked its magic on me and I grinned.
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Left hand, red!”
Someone blew a whistle and there was a scramble and a flurry as we all dropped to the ground and crawled over the white plastic mat. While I knew that I wasn’t particularly limber, I was already sweating and flushed by the time I reached madly for a red circle with my left hand.
John caught my eye and grinned at me. “Having fun?”
I nodded, surprising even myself.
“Good,” John said. He chuckled. “Way more to come!”
We played for maybe half an hour, contorting ourselves and twisting around with five other college students. The gameboard, clearly designed for small children, was impossibly tiny and soon I was gasping and heaving to keep my balance as the moves were called faster and faster. Some brought two rounds of shots and I took both, feeling the effects of the tequila in seconds. Finally, “right foot, green!” was what did me in, and I collapsed to the mat in peals of laughter.
“Oh my god,” I cried out. “That was insane!”
John grinned as he extended a hand and helped me up.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he said.
“But you’re still playing,” I objected. “Don’t you want to win?”
John smirked. “Not if you’re not playing,” he said.
A shiver ran down my spine and I wondered if I should really be doing this. It was clear that he had something on his mind, but what? I knew I should be interested in him – even if he was younger than me, he was clearly popular, and he was cute.
But when I thought about how it would feel to kiss him, my stomach turned. I could only see the face of Professor Will Marks in my head, and I swallowed hard and stopped dead in my tracks.
John reached for my hand, but I didn’t let him and his smile faded.
“What?” He asked, sounding annoyed. “Wha’d I do now?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I think I just had too much to drink, I should go home.”
A friendly smirk crossed his face. “You can lie down in my room,” he offered. “I have a really soft bed.”
I shook my head so fast that I felt sick. “No. Um, thank you,” I replied. “That’s nice of you, I should just—”
John rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he snapped. Then, he leaned in – so close that I could smell the beer clinging to his breath.
“I don’t know what the hell your problem is,” he said, making a show of his eyes traveling up and down my figure. “You think guys are just lining up to date you?”
I bit my lip. His comment should have stung – especially because now I was sure that he’d only gone for me since I was obviously low-hanging fruit – but it didn’t. Instead, it sent a small thrill of relief through me – relief that John wasn’t going to try to persuade me into his bed, no matter how cozy and soft it was.
I pushed my way back into the Delta house and went into the bedroom where I hunted for my coat. A couple was groping and kissing on the bed but they ignored me as I pawed through the jackets, eventually finding mine and pulling it on.
Back outside, the wind felt bitterly cold as I began the slow walk back to my apartment. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself. I knew that I should have told Petra where I was going, but I decided that it would be better to just text her as soon as I was home safe. Even though Oakbrook was nestled in a safe little college town, I didn’t feel like risking it.
When I got back home, I shucked off my coat and flopped down on the couch. I should have been tired, but my brain was pulsing with activity and after I texted Petra, I decided to order a pizza – extra-large, with pepperoni and mushrooms – and stuffed cheesy bread. That’ll soak up the booze, I told myself as I reclined on the couch and waited for my late-night feast to arrive.
The pizza arrived only slightly before Petra did. When she stumbled in the door, kicking off her high heels and groaning, I wordlessly handed her a slice and she raised an eyebrow at me.
“What, you didn’t have fun?”
I shook my head. “Not really,” I told her.
Petra frowned, but she didn’t reply for a moment as she flopped down next to me and began scarfing down the piece of pizza.
When she did speak, it totally threw me.
“What’s with you, anyway?” Petra asked. “You’ve been so weird lately.”
I frowned. How could I tell her the truth – that I was crushing hard, on my professor of all people? I’d already edged close to the truth and it hadn’t gotten me anywhere.
It was such a cliché.
I should have been ashamed – especially because I was effectively lying to my best friend in the entire world.
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just tired, that’s all. This semester is shaping up to be a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
Petra nodded emphatically, and I sensed that she was quite drunk.
“Tell me about it,” she groaned. “I just wish it was over!”
Me, too, I thought. You have no freaking idea.
8
Will – Tuesday
I hated it – the fact that jacking off to thoughts of Eden’s round, ripe body hadn’t done fuck-all to cure my seemingly insatiable lust for her. When she walked into my class on Tuesday wearing a pair of tight leggings and a white t-shirt with a bra visible
underneath, I felt hot desire ripple through my body.
Fuck.
Now that I’d touched her soft body, now that I knew just how curvy and lovely she was, my appetite for her was stronger than ever. I could hardly look at her without thinking about how I’d fantasized her – naked and splayed, red in the face and sweaty, moaning and gasping with lust, her magnificently huge tits heaving up and down with every breath. I could still smell the way I’d imagined her pussy to smell – soft and musky and sweet, good enough to lick until my jaw was sore and her clit was throbbing and sensitive.
“Professor Marks?”
My head snapped up and I saw one of my other students staring at me with a strange look on her face.
“What? I mean, yes?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re like, totally spacing,” she said. “You just trailed off.”
The entire classroom was looking at me expectantly and inwardly, I groaned.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “Feeling a little under the weather today.”
“Oh, does this mean class is canceled?” The same girl continued, twirling a strand of copper hair around her pale fingers. “Because like, I’m also kind of getting really sick, I shouldn’t even be here and—”
“No,” I said shortly. “Class will not be canceled. It’s just a bug.”
I might have imagined it, but I could have sworn that my remark made Eden smile.
As it was, I barely made it through class – our last discussion of The Waves – without thinking about her. How her plump neck looked so perfectly biteable with her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. How every she time wriggled in her chair, I kept thinking about her riding my cock and straining, whimpering, making herself into a complete little wanton slut for me. How her soft, pink lips would look around my cock, straining and crying to take all of me at once because she just had to please me.
This was unsustainable. This was unhealthy.
This was bordering on madness, and I needed for it to stop.
I knew that I was going to have to work at it – work hard to keep the blood flowing in my brain and not my cock. I purposefully ignored her for the rest of class, not even calling her when her hand was raised and waving in the air like she was Tracy Flick. I could sense that it was driving her mad, but I didn’t care.
The Temptation: A Professor Student Romance (Forbidden First Times Book 6) Page 5