SMUT UNIVERSITY: A sexy novella serial, Part Three

by Aymes, Kahlen

  I grabbed my towel and quickly ran it over my face before exiting the glass-enclosed stall, my body still dripping wet. I let the plush terrycloth soak up the water droplets still clinging to the skin of my chest and abs, then further down my body as I stared at myself in the large mirror that reflected the gleaming marble, chrome and glass through the steamy air. My eyes widened at my reflection. She was definitely changing me. I’d never put anyone’s needs above mine before. Instinctively, I wanted to tell the world we were together, and the consequences be damned. That’s what I’d always done; taken what I wanted, done what I wanted, and not made any apologies, but I couldn’t lose my perspective on the goal. I had to keep focus, for Addison’s sake.

  Grunting, I dropped the towel on the floor and walking into the vast open space of the master bedroom, and the magnificent Manhattan view including Central Park and the East River. As I grabbed an expensively weathered pair of jeans from one of the built-in dressers in the huge closet, I fought with myself. She’d apologized after our last argument, so it was probably my turn to eat crow, though it was completely against my personality to do so. Plus, everything in me wanted to confront Luke about asking her to come to me about his problem, when he should have done so himself.

  I’d just pulled on the jeans and picked one of the fine V-neck T-shirts from its hanger when the buzzer to the penthouse sounded. Walking out of my closet still holding the shirt, I glanced around the bedroom for my smartphone so I could look on the app to see who it was, but I didn’t see it. The buzzer sounded again, and I moved quickly in that direction. My heart rate increased in anticipation, hoping it was Addison. I rarely had visitors on Saturday morning, so surely it was her. A smile spread across my face as I flung open the door without pausing, but it was quickly lost when I saw who was standing there.

  “Well, hello, stranger,” Gloria purred, looking over my bare torso, down my body to my bare feet, hesitating for a pointed second or two at my crotch.

  I scowled at her, and quickly pulled the white shirt I was still holding over my head and shoved my arms through the sleeves. I turned and moved toward the kitchen, hoping she’d say what she needed to say and leave quickly. “What are you doing here?”

  She huffed in indignation and followed me, her stiletto heels clicking on the hardwood behind me. “You used to like me to be here, remember?” Gloria moved in close as I pulled the orange juice from the refrigerator, opened it, and took a long swig.

  “Not really,” I answered rudely, replacing the juice and turning to lean against the counter. Gloria’s face fell before she quickly hid her disappointment. If I was honest, I was being a dick, but damn it, she shouldn’t show up without calling first. “What is it? Is this about Addison’s manuscript?”

  Gloria’s brow dropped, and she waved a careless hand at me. “No, I’m trying to read it, but I’m not getting into it at all,” she dismissed.

  I crossed my arms over my chest as my eyes narrowed. “What? How can that be?”

  She shrugged casually and moved away from me to walk toward the window. She stood looking out. “I guess I’m too worried about your deadline. It’s coming up fast, Jax.”

  “As you keep reminding me. I told you to move it back.” My mood was getting worse which was only compounded by what came next.

  Gloria laughed haughtily, turning so her eyes locked with mine. “You’re so funny, Jax. Even you can’t push this publisher around.”

  “That’s not my objective, Gloria. Every writer gets block from time to time.” I felt foolish trying to justify it. I’d made my publisher and my agent lots of money over the past few years and I thought I deserved a little latitude.

  Gloria’s face sobered. “But you don’t, Jax. But if you want, I can hire a ghost writer. The important thing is to get some pages submitted.”

  “I don’t want someone else writing my books. My readers would know.”

  “I can get someone who has a similar style. It’s done all the time.”

  “I said, no.”

  “Well, you have no choice but to get it done, then.” She had strolled back into the kitchen from the window in the great room and moved closer. She ran a teasing finger down my arm, and I stiffened away from her. It did not go unnoticed.

  “Ask them to publish Addison’s manuscript in my slot. It’s a win win.”

  “Is it?” she asked drolly. “You expect me to march into Marcia Goldstone’s office and tell her to replace a sure bestseller with a little nobody’s book?” Her eyes flashed. “Yeah, right.”

  “Yes. It’s an excellent book,” I answered; nonplussed.

  Gloria rolled her eyes and opened the refrigerator door, peering inside as if she owned the place. “Do you have anything to drink? Other than juice, I mean?” Her casual familiarity wouldn’t have bothered me a few months ago, but now, I found it annoying. “Do you have any white wine?”

  “No,” I stated, even though I had a dozen different offerings, but the white wine selection was in the bar refrigerator and it surprised me that she didn’t remember that. I moved in front of her and pushed the fridge closed.

  Gloria pursed her lips, and one finely tweezed brow arched. How did I think she was so beautiful? She was skinny and cold, more of an ice queen. How did I ever find her attractive? I felt perplexed and shook my head slightly. “What happened to you, Gloria? You used to have such a passion for the story? Addison’s book will hook you if you’d read it.”

  She huffed and picked up the small purse she’d placed on the smooth white and black marbled granite of the countertop and shoved it under her arm. She was as casually dressed as I’d ever seen her, but still, she had on wool trousers, a bright print blouse and a short white wool tailored coat. That, and her standard four, or five, inch heels.

  “I guess the millions of indie authors flooding the market and publishers doing anything and everything to make a buck these days makes me a bit more cynical, Jax. They find it easier to scoop up the bestselling indies, and publish something that’s already been proven, then it is to find new talent by wading through stacks of submissions. Everyone likes a sure thing, don’t they?” Her red lipped mouth curved up on one side in a provocative smile.

  “Ugh,” I lamented, shaking my head again. “It’s your job to wade through the stack for them, Gloria.”

  “Yes, but they don’t give what I push at them a second look anymore. Not when they’ve got interns researching current sales trends online. If they don’t care about the writing, why should I? It doesn’t get me anything but shown the door.”

  I had to admit she was probably telling the truth. The passionless attitude, which had colored the industry of late, was also probably the reason for my lack of enthusiasm for my own writing. Writing used to fill me with joy. Hearing my agent’s enthusiasm was infectious. Now, I just felt like a fucking cog in a machine that made money for a bunch of faceless people who didn’t give a shit about the craft anymore. “You can show yourself out, Gloria. I have plans and I’m late.” I started to leave the room, anxious to reconcile with Addison, leaving Gloria stunned behind me. I was rewarded with a sarcastic, sneering retort.

  “Get your book done, and then maybe I can concentrate on your little girlfriend’s.”

  “She isn’t my girlfriend, Gloria,” I protested over my shoulder.

  “Fine,” she acquiesced. “Flavor of the month, then?”

  I felt heat flush the skin of my face as my anger increased. I stopped walking but only for a beat, then continued up the stairs. “Whatever Addison is, or isn’t, is none of your business. Other than she’s a writer and one of your clients. Remember that.”

  2

  I was still fuming when I slammed into my apartment. “Guh!” I grunted as I fell down onto my bed, dropping my bag on the floor next to it. As mad as I was, I was a basket of mixed emotions. I cared about Jax and the last thing I wanted was for something like this to come between us. He was more important than the book and surely undoubtedly more important than helping
Luke with his.

  The entire cab ride home, I was replaying the scene with Jax in my mind over and over.

  Michelle emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered, and ready for the day.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked. Her perkiness made me feel worse. Her blonde hair and makeup were perfect, and she was dressed in black leggings and an oversized cream sweater. I felt like an ugly slug beside her. I was sure my face was all pinched and my eyes puffy from crying. I still wore my sunglasses and sat up on the little bed, unwilling to take them off. She sat down on the edge of the bed beside me and put a hand on my back. “Did you have a fight with Dr. Michaels?”

  I cringed when she referred to him as Dr. Michaels, when he was Jax to me. It just made it all that much worse. A tear pushed out of my eye underneath my glasses and I reached up a finger to brush it away. My head dropped and I stared at my lap while both hands clutched at the old comforter on my bed. “Yeah.”

  “What about?” Her voice was comforting but held a hint of curiosity.

  “You know Luke, right?” I finally pulled the glasses off and looked at her, certain that my face shone of the misery I was feeling.

  “That cute T.A.?” Her eyes widened.

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  “Oh, my God! Did he ask you out and the professor was jealous?” She seemed almost giddy at the prospect.

  I huffed, pissed off at her assumption. As if that would ever happen. “Yeah, I’ve been screwing him on the side, sure,” I mocked. “Get real, Michelle! I’m seeing Jaxon Michaels, remember? Sex God, and talented as hell… how could I even look at anyone else?” I pushed off the bed and started digging around in one of the old milk crates we used as storage for canned and boxed goods positioned on one side of the refrigerator. I was intent on making some tea, but more, I just wanted to stop talking about it.

  “Good point, but then, what’s the matter? And what does Luke have to do with it?” she asked perplexed.

  “It’s nothing, really. He wants me to critique a manuscript he’s writing, but he doesn’t want Jax to find out, and wanted me to ask I replace the other assistant so we could work together.”

  “So, what’s the big deal? Why doesn’t he just ask the professor to look at his book?”

  I found the tea and ran some water into an old copper kettle, put it on the hot plate, and turned it on. I’d never complained about living here with Michelle; in fact, I’d loved living here for my college years, but the opulence of Jaxon’s penthouse screamed how above me he was. I felt defeated and sad. I sighed heavily, getting a mug from another milk crate Michelle’s brother had mounted on the wall above the refrigerator for us when we moved in three years earlier. “Luke thinks Jax would blow a gasket because he wasn’t devoting all of his spare time to his teaching assistant duties.” Luke was a graduate student, and his class load already makes assisting difficult.

  “And what do you think, Addy? Would Dr. Michaels be upset about the time, or about you working together?”

  I rolled the ceramic mug around between my hands, waiting for the water to boil. “I think he’d be upset that I lied about it more than anything else.”

  “Ah,” she said knowingly. “Well, it will make it look like you are screwing Luke if you don’t explain the real reason. My opinion.”

  “Yeah,” I said, sitting down on one of the two chairs that sat near the small table in our studio apartment. “But Luke doesn’t want Jax knowing he asked for help from a student, or that he’s even working on a book.”

  “Why?” Michelle asked thoughtfully. “Why doesn’t he want it known he’s working on something of his own, I mean?”

  “I don’t know.” The kettle began to whistle, and I got up to retrieve it and pour it over the Earl Grey tea bag now sitting inside my mug. “I want to help Luke; I feel guilty if I don’t, but it feels wrong to keep a secret from Jax. I was trying to figure it out, but it all got confused when Luke texted me this morning when we were still in bed, and Jax saw it.”

  “Oh shit,” Michelle said incredulously. Her mouth curved into a smile. “Why were you texting some other dude when you were in bed with him? Are you nuts?”

  “It was nothing! It only said; ‘have you spoken with Dr. Michaels?’”

  “Was he jealous?”

  I shook my head, reliving his livid expression in my mind. “No, he was pissed. I mean, yeah, maybe a little jealous.” I bobbed the tea bag in the hot water, impatient for it to finish steeping.

  “Girl, you are so lucky! The Jaxon Michaels is jealous over you. What did he do?” she asked anxiously.

  My head popped up and I paused, the gravity of her statement sinking in. Maybe Jax was jealous. Warm happiness filled my heart and started to radiate out to the rest of my body. I smiled gently. “Well, he lost his shit, I guess.” A laugh pushed its way up my chest and out of my surprised mouth. “He said Luke wants to get into my pants.”

  “Doesn’t he?” she asked with a short laugh, her head cocked to one side and one brow arched skeptically.

  I sipped at my tea and shook my head. “He genuinely wants my help.”

  “Does Luke know about your book?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “He just said he admired my work and asked if I’d help him.”

  My best friend looked at me, her expression sympathetic. “Well, if it were me, there would be no choice at all. I think you know where your loyalties lie. You don’t think Luke will tank your grade, do you?”

  It hadn’t even occurred to me. “I don’t think so, no. Where are you headed?” I asked, noticing again she was dressed to go out.

  “Mark is picking me up, and we’re going shopping. Do you want me to stay in with you, instead?” she asked, concerned.

  I frowned at her wryly, surprised she’d even consider it. “Of course not. I’ll be fine. I’ll just take a shower and then clean up a little around here. Maybe do some laundry and do some homework.” It wasn’t the way I’d hoped to spend the weekend and my heart hurt a little. “Do you have anything you’d like me to throw in with mine?” Lugging baskets of dirty clothes down four flights of stairs into the basement of the building and back up again filled me with dread. It had to be done, and hopefully, it would keep my mind off of Jax.

  Michelle’s face lit up. “Really?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”

  “You’re the best, Addy!” She went to the closet and pulled out a white plastic basket overflowing with the weeks’ worth of laundry and tugged it into the center of the room.

  I dumped out the remaining tea from my cup in the sink and started to rinse it out when there was a knock on the door.

  I glanced at my roommate as I finished the task. “Did you give Mark the combination to the building?”

  “Yeah, he has it, but I don’t expect him for fifteen minutes.” She walked to the door and looked through the peep hole. “Um…” Michelle turned to me her expression incredulous. She pointed twice at the closed door. “It’s Dr. Michaels.”

  “Oh, shit!” I exclaimed in a desperate whisper. My heart started to race, and I was overly conscious of how my makeup was smudged by sleep and tears, my hair was a mess, and the meager studio cluttered, and bleak compared to his lush penthouse. I launched into action, shoving Michelle’s laundry back into her closet and pulling at the curtain that served as a closet door to cover it. I turned almost a complete circle, unsure of what to clean up next.

  “Shit?” Michelle asked. “I’d say it’s more like incredible!”

  I used my hands to silently ask her to lower her voice, and she complied.

  “He is here, Addy! That means something! Open the door!” she whispered furiously, exuberance filling her expression.

  “Um….” I ran a hand through my hair. “You aren’t supposed to know about us. Go into the bathroom!”

  “No! Mark will be here any minute. What then? The professor knows you have a roommate and he’s here anyway. If he didn’t want me to know, he shouldn’t have just shown up.�
� Her logic was pretty hard to argue with, however I didn’t really want another confrontation with my handsome professor.

  I inhaled a steadying breath as another knock followed, making me jump. “Addison, it’s Jaxon. Open the door.”

  Suddenly, the walls closed in, and my cozy little apartment felt like a matchbox. After a second or two of hesitation, I put a hand on the doorknob and turned it, pulling it open. There was nothing to be done about how I looked. Michelle backed further into the room as the door swung wide. Jax was sexy as hell in fitted jeans and a midnight button-down with a stylish black leather jacket over it, he leaned one hand on the doorframe. His dark hair was combed back and still damp from his shower. He was perfection from his stance, his casual smile that made the dimple in his left cheek appear, down to his Tom Ford Chelsea boots.

  I squared my shoulders. “What are you doing here?” I asked, pretending to be composed.

  “I think that’s obvious,” he dismissed with a smirk. “May I come in?”

  I didn’t respond but simply moved aside so he could pass.

  “Michelle,” he greeted her nonchalantly.

  “Hello, Dr. Michaels,” she returned hesitantly. Her eyes met mine and then glanced back to the striking man who’s imposing presence dominated the room. “Um…” she grabbed her coat off of her bed and slid it on. “I think I’m just going to wait for Mark downstairs. See ya later, Addy.”

  “Bye,” I raised a hand in an awkward wave.

  After she’d gone, I met his gaze. “If you didn’t want her to find out about us, I’d say that’s blown.”

  “Pfft,” he huffed. “As if she didn’t already know. She ran out of here like a frightened bird. I’m many things, Addison, but I’m not stupid. Why didn’t you just tell me you told her?”