Professor, page 11
“Mom?” I stepped to the side to let her in. I closed the door and faced her, leaning against it and just watching her, waiting for her to drop the bomb I knew she’d come here to drop.
Why else would she show up unexpectedly this late?
“Is everything okay?”
She looked around the small house that I called home while in school. “This place is cute, Grace.” She turned and faced me, but I could see her smile was still forced.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
She set her bag down. “What? I can’t surprise my daughter with a visit? “
I knew my expression was probably disbelieving.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you’ve never just shown up out of the blue, especially when it’s this late.” I could see the wall she’d built around herself start to crumble. “Mom, what’s wrong?”
She exhaled, and I saw her smile fade. A real expression of sadness, anger, hopelessness clung to her in that moment. I knew what this was about before she even said anything.
My father. Michael.
He and my mother had married young. They’d been high school sweethearts, and I knew from enough reminiscing from my mother over the years that my father had been her first everything.
First boyfriend.
First love.
First kiss.
First everything.
So when things had gone downhill, my mother had taken it hard. The divorce hadn’t been amicable. My father had up and left my mom, taking a good chunk of their savings, and running off with the woman who would become his new wife. He hadn’t given a second thought to how this would affect my mother; probably even thought I was old enough to “get through it.”
He’d tried to smooth things over with me, spouting off about being in love and wanting to start his life.
It had all been bullshit.
He’d abandoned his wife and daughter for a young, new piece of ass. He’d married her shortly after he betrayed my mom and clearly had no regrets or shame about it.
And a part of me hated him for what he’d put my mom through, for how he’d hurt her.
“It’s about your father.”
Of course it was. Because even after the years that had passed, he was still fucking her over.
I walked up to her and gave her a hug. I didn’t know what this was about, but whatever it was had upset her enough that she felt the need to come all the way out here to see me.
I pulled back and looked at her, hating that she felt so lost. She put on a good front, though, and I knew she did it for me even though I knew how upset she truly was over it all.
“Whatever has happened, things will work out. They always do.” I took her hand and led us into the living room, and we sat on the couch. Her focus was on the textbooks and papers strewn along the floor.
“I’m sorry for just barging in like this.”
I shook my head even though she wasn’t looking at me. “You know you’re welcome here anytime. I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to get home. School’s been kind of hectic.”
And then, of course, there was my affair with my professor.
Obviously I kept that to myself. That probably wasn’t a conversation we needed to have at this very moment.
“No, you should definitely focus on school. You shouldn’t have to worry about your mom dropping in because she can’t handle her shit.”
We sat there in silence for long seconds. I didn’t want to broach the subject again, figured she could tell me in her own time what was wrong. But then after a few moments, she cleared her throat and pointed to the textbooks.
“How’s school going, by the way?”
She was deflecting, stalling. She looked over at me and I shrugged. “It’s going.” I felt my cheeks heat as I thought about Lucian, wondering what she’d think, how she’d feel if I admitted what I was doing with my professor.
I ran my hands up and down my thighs, suddenly feeling so nervous. I saw the way she knitted her brows. My mother could read me well without me having to say anything.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded and cleared my throat. “What’s going on with Dad?”
She leaned back on the couch and exhaled, suddenly seeming so tired. “He’s having another baby with Crystal.” My mother stared straight ahead, her unshed tears evident.
I was angry instantly, not because there was another baby coming into the world, not because he had left us to create a new family—because we were clearly not enough—but because my mom was hurting.
“I’m sorry.” In that moment I hated my father all over again.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t even care at this point, but I swear it’s like a wound being reopened.” She smiled at me, but it was sad, distant. “I wanted to be here with you when you found out.”
Not only had he cheated on my mother, ran off with his too-young wife, but every time his happiness came rising back up, it was like a slap in my mother’s face.
“He’s an asshole,” I said, and she looked over at me and gave me a sad smile.
“He’s your father. I don’t want you thinking badly of him.”
“Then he shouldn’t have cheated on you and abandoned us for a piece of ass.” This anger rose in me so violently I felt my hands shake.
“It was wrong of me to come here, to burden you. But I wanted to tell you the news in person. I’m sure he’ll call you tomorrow.”
I could only shake my head. “He told you today?”
She shook her head. “No, I was talking with Cheryl, and she said she overheard Bob talking to your father on the phone.”
Cheryl had lived next to us nearly my entire life. After the divorce, Cheryl had washed her hands of my dad, but her husband, Bob, still kept in contact, apparently.
“She thought I knew already when she brought it up.” She glanced at me then. “Not that I expected Michael to call me and tell me, and honestly I’m glad he didn’t, but to hear it secondhand from the neighbor?” She snorted.
I hated that he was still controlling her emotions, that he had this effect on her. It was hard for her to even have her own life because I knew she still loved him. How could she not?
Even betrayal couldn’t stop somebody from caring. Even heartache couldn’t make those emotions vanish.
“Everything will be fine, Mom. He’s not worth it. Father or not, he hurt both of us, and at this point I don’t want him in my life.”
“Oh, honey. Don’t say that. He divorced me, not you.”
I shook my head. “The way he went about all of this was underhanded in the worst kind of way.” My mother didn’t say anything, and instead I held her as we both sat there in silence, the atmosphere heavy and thick.
He’d done this to her and me, and all I wanted to do was shout and scream at him, to tell him how much I hated him, how seeing the pain he caused in my mom made me loathe him.
But I didn’t need that in my life. Neither of us did. All we could do now was move on.
All we could do now was live this new life.
And all I could think about on the heels of that thought was how I wanted that new life to be with Lucian.
23
Professor Goode
The more time I spent with Grace, the more I realized that my concentration on anything that didn’t concern her was pretty much impossible. I ran a hand over my jaw, a day’s worth of scruff scraping over my palm. I tried to focus on the papers that had been turned in from my students, yet my obsession with Grace made everything else dim in comparison.
I just wanted to be with her, to spend every waking moment with her. It was this ache inside of me that grew daily, beckoning this swarm that wouldn’t be tamed.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. Although I’d seen her in class, we hadn’t had a free moment to be together. And it was slowly eating at me. I realized I needed her in my life in every conceivable way. I needed to touch her, kiss her, just hold her every day.
I stood, not able to sit any longer, and walked over to the window. I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest as I stared out at the university grounds. I could see the parking lot, the student lounge beside that. There was a large grassy area where, during the warmer months, students sat out and studied.
Although I didn’t care if people knew about my relationship with Grace, I knew she worried. It was on my mind; how they’d react, if they’d see her in a different light. It was the latter that worried me the most, because I knew people could be heartless bastards. I knew they might spread rumors, say shit about her, think badly of her. That’s what I was concerned about if people found out.
My job, my reputation … just things in this world that didn’t mean shit compared to the big picture.
And that big picture was Grace.
There was a knock on my door, and I turned and looked over my shoulder, not moving from the spot. “Come in,” I said, my voice booming in the small interior of the office. I assumed it was Ashley, my TA, but a pleasurable surprise filled me when I saw that it was Grace.
She stepped inside and shut the door behind her, and I was already striding toward her, had her in my arms, my hand cupping the back of her head, and just held her. I buried my face in her hair, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply.
The scent of lemons filled my nose. “I was just thinking about you,” I said gruffly against her ear and dragged my lips across her cheek, along her jaw, and pressed my mouth to hers.
She kissed me slowly, softly, but I instantly knew something was wrong. I pulled back and looked down at her, the expression on her face telling me she was guarded, that she was trying to act like nothing bothered her. But she couldn’t hide it from me.
I’d watched her for too long, knew her facial expressions, what she liked and didn’t like, knew when something was wrong. And being with her, finally claiming her, had only intensified all of that.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” Instantly my thoughts went to some little fucker hurting her. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t help the possessive, protective side that rose up in me where she was concerned.
She didn’t say anything at first, just exhaled and shook her head. I led her over to the couch and sat down, keeping her hand in mine, in fact, wanting her on my lap so I could hold her, so I could comfort her.
“My mother came by last night,” she said softly. “Apparently my father is having another baby with his wife.” She exhaled again as if she were frustrated.
When Grace leaned back on the couch and tipped her head, resting it on the cushion and staring at the ceiling, I glanced at the slender column of her throat, at the way her pulse beat steadily beneath her ear.
“The crazy part of all of this is not that I’m upset he’s having another one, especially at his age. But that he hurt my mother.” She looked at me then, and although I could see she was upset, but she was so damn strong.
I reached out and cupped her cheek, my fingers curled gently around the base of her neck. Her long, dark hair fell over my hands, along the back of the couch.
“Lucian,” she whispered softly. Grace looked at me then, something flitting across her face. “I just want to feel something other than this hurt and frustration.” She shifted on the couch so she was facing me, and I kept my hand on her cheek.
I’d do anything for her, and the fact she was in pain, that maybe I could give her some comfort, take some of that hurt away so it was off her mind, had me reacting instantly.
I leaned in and kissed her, sliding my tongue along the seam of her lips, feeling her lean against me.
“I love you,” I said against her mouth, and she moaned, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing herself closer to my body. “God, I love you so much it feels like my heart could stop from it.”
She leaned back and looked me in the eyes. “Don’t ever leave,” she whispered with this desperation in her voice.
“Never.” We were tied together for life.
She was mine and I was hers. Irrevocably.
* * *
Grace
When my mom had told me about my father, there were only two people that I wanted to confide in, to get comfort from.
Sherry and Lucian.
But they were different kinds of comfort, different kinds of emotional support that I needed from them.
I’d called Sherry last night, talked to her for hours, knew that things would be okay because they had to be. And it felt better … but I’d felt this hole in me still.
And first thing this morning, I’d come to see Lucian. I’d wanted to talk to him last night, to have him wrap his arms around me, to do more than just tell me everything was okay—to actually show me. I knew he’d pull this hurt and betrayal from me, so I felt nothing but him and me.
I clung to him, kissed him with this feverish need that I’d never felt before. I found myself on top of him, my legs on either side of his, the stiff outline of his erection pressing right between my thighs telling me he was right here with me.
I moaned and opened my mouth wider, tilting my head, delving my tongue between his lips and taking from him what I knew he freely gave.
He lifted his hips up, grinding his dick against me, and at the same time I pushed down, rocking back and forth, feeling sparks of pleasure filling me.
He had his hands on my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh with almost bruising force. But I wanted those marks. I wanted to look in the mirror tomorrow and see what he’d done to me, that I was his, that he’d branded me.
I pressed my breasts against his chest, my nipples hard, ultrasensitive. The gruff sound that came from him spurred me on, and I started rocking back and forth against his erection, rubbing my pussy along the length, the bulge. I could’ve gotten off this way, finding my release by moving over Lucian.
“Yes,” I whispered against his mouth, breaking the kiss only long enough to suck in a lungful of air.
I stared into his face, saw he was controlled, calm, but he couldn’t hide his body’s reaction. His pupils were dilated, his breathing slightly increased. His cock was hard, like a lead pipe between his thighs.
“Take from me, Grace. Use me.” He slid his hands up my back, over my shoulders, and cupped each side of my throat.
He tipped my head to the side and leaned in and kissed me, his mouth, his tongue, everything about him so full of possession and power.
“I’m here for you. I was made for you.”
A moan was ripped from me at his words, and I felt something break open, a dam of emotions, desire, arousal … life in general filling me until I could cry from the overwhelming sensations.
I wasn’t thinking about anything else in this moment. But when I heard his office door open, the sound of a startled gasp come from behind us, my entire body froze.
I looked over my shoulder to see Ashley standing there, a stack of papers in her arms, her eyes wide and her mouth parted in shock.
She wasn’t moving, wasn’t speaking as she stared at us. Here I was, on top of Lucian, his cock hard and pressing between my thighs, no doubt what we were doing hanging between us.
I looked back at him, feeling like this entire experience wasn’t happening. Everything was moving in slow motion.
But he wasn’t focused on her. He stared right at me, no concern or worry on his face. He still had his hands on either side of my throat, smoothing his thumbs along my pulse points.
“Oh my God,” Ashley finally said.
I tore my gaze from Lucian’s and looked at her again. I tried to scramble off him, but he already had his hands on my hips, keeping me right where I was.
I looked at him shocked, startled. Fear filled me. This was bad, very bad. She’d tell the administration. He’d get in trouble, and that had panic spiking in me.
I heard her leave, scrambling out, the door slamming behind her. And still Lucian hadn’t moved, kept me on his lap, his hands on my body. He stared into my eyes, and a small smile formed on his lips.
“Lucian, God. This is not good.” I shook my head and climbed off him, and he let me. My hands were shaking as I smoothed them down my pants. And yet he still sat there, his legs slightly open, his cock pressed against his slacks, tenting the material, showing me how big and thick he was.
I swallowed roughly, this knot of worry lodged in my throat.
“I’m not worried,” he said effortlessly.
“How can you not be worried?” My voice shook, trembled.
He finally stood up, adjusting his dick before coming over to me. The smile was still on his face as he placed his hand on my shoulder and moved it down my arm, taking my hand in his.
“I don’t care that she caught us.”
I felt my eyes widen. “W-what do you mean? If she tells people, you’re going to lose your job.” And still he looked unaffected.
He said nothing as he leaned down and kissed me. It was soft and sweet, reassuring. When he pulled back, I felt that stress leave me at the fact he was so calm.
“Grace, the only thing that matters to me is you. Nothing else is a concern. This job, what people think…” He shook his head. “You’re all I care about.” And then he pulled me in for a hug and I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady, even beating of his heart.
It was easy to not let it bother me because he didn’t let it affect him, but I loved Lucian, and the fact that this could ruin his life was a very real possibility, no matter what he said.
24
Professor Goode
I watched as my afternoon class left, the feeling of what was coming strong ever since yesterday when Ashley had walked in on Grace and me.
I gathered up my papers and put them in my satchel. When the last student was gone, I sat down and started going over the syllabus. This was pointless if I were being honest. I knew the board would call me in eventually, probably sooner rather than later.
It wasn’t but a moment later when I heard the door open. I glanced up and saw Dean Richards standing there, a manila envelope in his hand, a guarded expression on his face. I knew what this was about. I’d been prepared for this visit.
Why else would she show up unexpectedly this late?
“Is everything okay?”
She looked around the small house that I called home while in school. “This place is cute, Grace.” She turned and faced me, but I could see her smile was still forced.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
She set her bag down. “What? I can’t surprise my daughter with a visit? “
I knew my expression was probably disbelieving.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you’ve never just shown up out of the blue, especially when it’s this late.” I could see the wall she’d built around herself start to crumble. “Mom, what’s wrong?”
She exhaled, and I saw her smile fade. A real expression of sadness, anger, hopelessness clung to her in that moment. I knew what this was about before she even said anything.
My father. Michael.
He and my mother had married young. They’d been high school sweethearts, and I knew from enough reminiscing from my mother over the years that my father had been her first everything.
First boyfriend.
First love.
First kiss.
First everything.
So when things had gone downhill, my mother had taken it hard. The divorce hadn’t been amicable. My father had up and left my mom, taking a good chunk of their savings, and running off with the woman who would become his new wife. He hadn’t given a second thought to how this would affect my mother; probably even thought I was old enough to “get through it.”
He’d tried to smooth things over with me, spouting off about being in love and wanting to start his life.
It had all been bullshit.
He’d abandoned his wife and daughter for a young, new piece of ass. He’d married her shortly after he betrayed my mom and clearly had no regrets or shame about it.
And a part of me hated him for what he’d put my mom through, for how he’d hurt her.
“It’s about your father.”
Of course it was. Because even after the years that had passed, he was still fucking her over.
I walked up to her and gave her a hug. I didn’t know what this was about, but whatever it was had upset her enough that she felt the need to come all the way out here to see me.
I pulled back and looked at her, hating that she felt so lost. She put on a good front, though, and I knew she did it for me even though I knew how upset she truly was over it all.
“Whatever has happened, things will work out. They always do.” I took her hand and led us into the living room, and we sat on the couch. Her focus was on the textbooks and papers strewn along the floor.
“I’m sorry for just barging in like this.”
I shook my head even though she wasn’t looking at me. “You know you’re welcome here anytime. I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to get home. School’s been kind of hectic.”
And then, of course, there was my affair with my professor.
Obviously I kept that to myself. That probably wasn’t a conversation we needed to have at this very moment.
“No, you should definitely focus on school. You shouldn’t have to worry about your mom dropping in because she can’t handle her shit.”
We sat there in silence for long seconds. I didn’t want to broach the subject again, figured she could tell me in her own time what was wrong. But then after a few moments, she cleared her throat and pointed to the textbooks.
“How’s school going, by the way?”
She was deflecting, stalling. She looked over at me and I shrugged. “It’s going.” I felt my cheeks heat as I thought about Lucian, wondering what she’d think, how she’d feel if I admitted what I was doing with my professor.
I ran my hands up and down my thighs, suddenly feeling so nervous. I saw the way she knitted her brows. My mother could read me well without me having to say anything.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded and cleared my throat. “What’s going on with Dad?”
She leaned back on the couch and exhaled, suddenly seeming so tired. “He’s having another baby with Crystal.” My mother stared straight ahead, her unshed tears evident.
I was angry instantly, not because there was another baby coming into the world, not because he had left us to create a new family—because we were clearly not enough—but because my mom was hurting.
“I’m sorry.” In that moment I hated my father all over again.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t even care at this point, but I swear it’s like a wound being reopened.” She smiled at me, but it was sad, distant. “I wanted to be here with you when you found out.”
Not only had he cheated on my mother, ran off with his too-young wife, but every time his happiness came rising back up, it was like a slap in my mother’s face.
“He’s an asshole,” I said, and she looked over at me and gave me a sad smile.
“He’s your father. I don’t want you thinking badly of him.”
“Then he shouldn’t have cheated on you and abandoned us for a piece of ass.” This anger rose in me so violently I felt my hands shake.
“It was wrong of me to come here, to burden you. But I wanted to tell you the news in person. I’m sure he’ll call you tomorrow.”
I could only shake my head. “He told you today?”
She shook her head. “No, I was talking with Cheryl, and she said she overheard Bob talking to your father on the phone.”
Cheryl had lived next to us nearly my entire life. After the divorce, Cheryl had washed her hands of my dad, but her husband, Bob, still kept in contact, apparently.
“She thought I knew already when she brought it up.” She glanced at me then. “Not that I expected Michael to call me and tell me, and honestly I’m glad he didn’t, but to hear it secondhand from the neighbor?” She snorted.
I hated that he was still controlling her emotions, that he had this effect on her. It was hard for her to even have her own life because I knew she still loved him. How could she not?
Even betrayal couldn’t stop somebody from caring. Even heartache couldn’t make those emotions vanish.
“Everything will be fine, Mom. He’s not worth it. Father or not, he hurt both of us, and at this point I don’t want him in my life.”
“Oh, honey. Don’t say that. He divorced me, not you.”
I shook my head. “The way he went about all of this was underhanded in the worst kind of way.” My mother didn’t say anything, and instead I held her as we both sat there in silence, the atmosphere heavy and thick.
He’d done this to her and me, and all I wanted to do was shout and scream at him, to tell him how much I hated him, how seeing the pain he caused in my mom made me loathe him.
But I didn’t need that in my life. Neither of us did. All we could do now was move on.
All we could do now was live this new life.
And all I could think about on the heels of that thought was how I wanted that new life to be with Lucian.
23
Professor Goode
The more time I spent with Grace, the more I realized that my concentration on anything that didn’t concern her was pretty much impossible. I ran a hand over my jaw, a day’s worth of scruff scraping over my palm. I tried to focus on the papers that had been turned in from my students, yet my obsession with Grace made everything else dim in comparison.
I just wanted to be with her, to spend every waking moment with her. It was this ache inside of me that grew daily, beckoning this swarm that wouldn’t be tamed.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. Although I’d seen her in class, we hadn’t had a free moment to be together. And it was slowly eating at me. I realized I needed her in my life in every conceivable way. I needed to touch her, kiss her, just hold her every day.
I stood, not able to sit any longer, and walked over to the window. I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest as I stared out at the university grounds. I could see the parking lot, the student lounge beside that. There was a large grassy area where, during the warmer months, students sat out and studied.
Although I didn’t care if people knew about my relationship with Grace, I knew she worried. It was on my mind; how they’d react, if they’d see her in a different light. It was the latter that worried me the most, because I knew people could be heartless bastards. I knew they might spread rumors, say shit about her, think badly of her. That’s what I was concerned about if people found out.
My job, my reputation … just things in this world that didn’t mean shit compared to the big picture.
And that big picture was Grace.
There was a knock on my door, and I turned and looked over my shoulder, not moving from the spot. “Come in,” I said, my voice booming in the small interior of the office. I assumed it was Ashley, my TA, but a pleasurable surprise filled me when I saw that it was Grace.
She stepped inside and shut the door behind her, and I was already striding toward her, had her in my arms, my hand cupping the back of her head, and just held her. I buried my face in her hair, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply.
The scent of lemons filled my nose. “I was just thinking about you,” I said gruffly against her ear and dragged my lips across her cheek, along her jaw, and pressed my mouth to hers.
She kissed me slowly, softly, but I instantly knew something was wrong. I pulled back and looked down at her, the expression on her face telling me she was guarded, that she was trying to act like nothing bothered her. But she couldn’t hide it from me.
I’d watched her for too long, knew her facial expressions, what she liked and didn’t like, knew when something was wrong. And being with her, finally claiming her, had only intensified all of that.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” Instantly my thoughts went to some little fucker hurting her. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t help the possessive, protective side that rose up in me where she was concerned.
She didn’t say anything at first, just exhaled and shook her head. I led her over to the couch and sat down, keeping her hand in mine, in fact, wanting her on my lap so I could hold her, so I could comfort her.
“My mother came by last night,” she said softly. “Apparently my father is having another baby with his wife.” She exhaled again as if she were frustrated.
When Grace leaned back on the couch and tipped her head, resting it on the cushion and staring at the ceiling, I glanced at the slender column of her throat, at the way her pulse beat steadily beneath her ear.
“The crazy part of all of this is not that I’m upset he’s having another one, especially at his age. But that he hurt my mother.” She looked at me then, and although I could see she was upset, but she was so damn strong.
I reached out and cupped her cheek, my fingers curled gently around the base of her neck. Her long, dark hair fell over my hands, along the back of the couch.
“Lucian,” she whispered softly. Grace looked at me then, something flitting across her face. “I just want to feel something other than this hurt and frustration.” She shifted on the couch so she was facing me, and I kept my hand on her cheek.
I’d do anything for her, and the fact she was in pain, that maybe I could give her some comfort, take some of that hurt away so it was off her mind, had me reacting instantly.
I leaned in and kissed her, sliding my tongue along the seam of her lips, feeling her lean against me.
“I love you,” I said against her mouth, and she moaned, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing herself closer to my body. “God, I love you so much it feels like my heart could stop from it.”
She leaned back and looked me in the eyes. “Don’t ever leave,” she whispered with this desperation in her voice.
“Never.” We were tied together for life.
She was mine and I was hers. Irrevocably.
* * *
Grace
When my mom had told me about my father, there were only two people that I wanted to confide in, to get comfort from.
Sherry and Lucian.
But they were different kinds of comfort, different kinds of emotional support that I needed from them.
I’d called Sherry last night, talked to her for hours, knew that things would be okay because they had to be. And it felt better … but I’d felt this hole in me still.
And first thing this morning, I’d come to see Lucian. I’d wanted to talk to him last night, to have him wrap his arms around me, to do more than just tell me everything was okay—to actually show me. I knew he’d pull this hurt and betrayal from me, so I felt nothing but him and me.
I clung to him, kissed him with this feverish need that I’d never felt before. I found myself on top of him, my legs on either side of his, the stiff outline of his erection pressing right between my thighs telling me he was right here with me.
I moaned and opened my mouth wider, tilting my head, delving my tongue between his lips and taking from him what I knew he freely gave.
He lifted his hips up, grinding his dick against me, and at the same time I pushed down, rocking back and forth, feeling sparks of pleasure filling me.
He had his hands on my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh with almost bruising force. But I wanted those marks. I wanted to look in the mirror tomorrow and see what he’d done to me, that I was his, that he’d branded me.
I pressed my breasts against his chest, my nipples hard, ultrasensitive. The gruff sound that came from him spurred me on, and I started rocking back and forth against his erection, rubbing my pussy along the length, the bulge. I could’ve gotten off this way, finding my release by moving over Lucian.
“Yes,” I whispered against his mouth, breaking the kiss only long enough to suck in a lungful of air.
I stared into his face, saw he was controlled, calm, but he couldn’t hide his body’s reaction. His pupils were dilated, his breathing slightly increased. His cock was hard, like a lead pipe between his thighs.
“Take from me, Grace. Use me.” He slid his hands up my back, over my shoulders, and cupped each side of my throat.
He tipped my head to the side and leaned in and kissed me, his mouth, his tongue, everything about him so full of possession and power.
“I’m here for you. I was made for you.”
A moan was ripped from me at his words, and I felt something break open, a dam of emotions, desire, arousal … life in general filling me until I could cry from the overwhelming sensations.
I wasn’t thinking about anything else in this moment. But when I heard his office door open, the sound of a startled gasp come from behind us, my entire body froze.
I looked over my shoulder to see Ashley standing there, a stack of papers in her arms, her eyes wide and her mouth parted in shock.
She wasn’t moving, wasn’t speaking as she stared at us. Here I was, on top of Lucian, his cock hard and pressing between my thighs, no doubt what we were doing hanging between us.
I looked back at him, feeling like this entire experience wasn’t happening. Everything was moving in slow motion.
But he wasn’t focused on her. He stared right at me, no concern or worry on his face. He still had his hands on either side of my throat, smoothing his thumbs along my pulse points.
“Oh my God,” Ashley finally said.
I tore my gaze from Lucian’s and looked at her again. I tried to scramble off him, but he already had his hands on my hips, keeping me right where I was.
I looked at him shocked, startled. Fear filled me. This was bad, very bad. She’d tell the administration. He’d get in trouble, and that had panic spiking in me.
I heard her leave, scrambling out, the door slamming behind her. And still Lucian hadn’t moved, kept me on his lap, his hands on my body. He stared into my eyes, and a small smile formed on his lips.
“Lucian, God. This is not good.” I shook my head and climbed off him, and he let me. My hands were shaking as I smoothed them down my pants. And yet he still sat there, his legs slightly open, his cock pressed against his slacks, tenting the material, showing me how big and thick he was.
I swallowed roughly, this knot of worry lodged in my throat.
“I’m not worried,” he said effortlessly.
“How can you not be worried?” My voice shook, trembled.
He finally stood up, adjusting his dick before coming over to me. The smile was still on his face as he placed his hand on my shoulder and moved it down my arm, taking my hand in his.
“I don’t care that she caught us.”
I felt my eyes widen. “W-what do you mean? If she tells people, you’re going to lose your job.” And still he looked unaffected.
He said nothing as he leaned down and kissed me. It was soft and sweet, reassuring. When he pulled back, I felt that stress leave me at the fact he was so calm.
“Grace, the only thing that matters to me is you. Nothing else is a concern. This job, what people think…” He shook his head. “You’re all I care about.” And then he pulled me in for a hug and I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady, even beating of his heart.
It was easy to not let it bother me because he didn’t let it affect him, but I loved Lucian, and the fact that this could ruin his life was a very real possibility, no matter what he said.
24
Professor Goode
I watched as my afternoon class left, the feeling of what was coming strong ever since yesterday when Ashley had walked in on Grace and me.
I gathered up my papers and put them in my satchel. When the last student was gone, I sat down and started going over the syllabus. This was pointless if I were being honest. I knew the board would call me in eventually, probably sooner rather than later.
It wasn’t but a moment later when I heard the door open. I glanced up and saw Dean Richards standing there, a manila envelope in his hand, a guarded expression on his face. I knew what this was about. I’d been prepared for this visit.
