All the same, it was clear that no matter how he felt about me on the inside, he wasn’t going to make a move.
Clearly, Professor Marks was a man with a life.
And I was a woman with a life of my own.
So, why couldn’t I get him out of my head?
6
Will – Saturday
I cursed myself – again, I’d managed to be caught in a situation with Eden Cooper that I would have done anything to avoid. She had been there, right there, so fucking close that I could have reached out and grabbed her, and of course, I had.
I’d dug my fingers into the soft skin of her waist, into her curves, and righted her, kept her from falling onto that ripe, round ass.
Saved her.
Fuck, I wished that I hadn’t been there.
Just the look on her face – both aroused and wounded, like she was just waiting to see what I’d do next – had been enough to make my blood pump hot and lustful through my veins.
Not to mention, I’d been a complete asshole to her. She’d caught me off-guard, and I had been a dick. I’d spoken harshly, made her regret even running into me in the first place.
No wonder she’d turned tail and skittered away like a wounded deer.
God, I was fucking stupid.
I kept replaying the moment in my head all the way home. After she’d run off, part of me had wanted to hang around the store, wait to see if I bumped into her again, even apologize.
I couldn’t have done that, though – it would have violated everything that I was working so hard, so desperately to protect. I wanted her, and if we talked again, I had a feeling that my face would give it all away. It was already a struggle to stay stoic and upright and cold in front of Eden and her sweet, lush body.
I wished that we didn’t live in such a small little college town. I wished that we lived in a big, anonymous city where I would be free to go out and engage my interests with things other than ripe, curvaceous college students. If we lived in a city, I could even go to a fucking book club or something, just to find women to fuck.
I wouldn’t be reduced to this sniveling mess.
My hands clenched the steering wheel of my car as I drove home, my backseat loaded with wine and cheese. I had been planning to go to an open house down the street – a couple had just moved in with two young kids and they were hosting a party – at the time, the invitation had seemed like a good idea, like a place to maybe meet a woman my own age and stop obsessing over Eden.
I wasn’t going to go now, though. The thought of pasting a smile on my face and being friendly and charming was abhorrent. All I wanted to do was go home and be alone and forget about the entire fucking day.
And hey, that Cambozola isn’t going to eat itself, I thought as I glanced in the rearview mirror at the paper bags loaded with all of the food that I’d bought. I could picture it now: sitting in my leather armchair, relaxing with a glass of wine or ten and eating cheese until I made myself sick.
The perfect bachelor, I added silently, shaking my head.
Maybe I had been in the wrong to accept a tenure-track position at Oakbrook. Maybe I should have held out for a bigger school, a real university, somewhere I could blend in with the giant faculty and not stand out as an object of obvious desire among the students. It wouldn’t have been as picturesque or vintage, but maybe it would have been just fine.
On the other hand, maybe I would have been miserable there.
I was still thinking about it when I got home and unloaded the groceries into my house. There was a pile of work waiting for me and I glanced at it meaningfully for a second, then promptly ignored it and carried my food into the kitchen.
Thoughts of Eden were taking over my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d skidded towards me like she was ice-skating, her arms outstretched and shaking and the sweet little yelp she’d emitted when she’d crashed into my waiting body.
I could have just let her fall.
I could have acted like I hadn’t seen her careening in my direction and left her there, waited for the crash, then snuck out of the store like a coward.
As obvious as it sounded now, those thoughts hadn’t even occurred to me at the time. All I had been able to do was stand there and wait to touch her, wait to put my hands on her soft body and capture her and hold her.
I sighed hard. All of the promises that I’d made to myself in the prior days had flown out of the window, meaningless as bird tracks in the snow.
Staring down at the cheeses, I groaned. I wasn’t hungry now ... well, not for food.
I was hungry for Eden Cooper, and I had no fucking clue what to do about it. No matter how often she kept giving me those fuck-me eyes, I couldn’t act on it. She was a student, practically a child for fuck’s sake, and she didn’t know what she wanted. She wasn’t capable of knowing – she was too goddamned young. She didn’t have the life experience to decide what kind of man she wanted.
I would have bet anything that she was a virgin.
That thought alone should have turned me off: I wasn’t the kind of man who fetishized virginity or inexperienced women. I loved a woman who knew her way around a man’s body, knew her way about the bedroom.
But my cock was throbbing, and I realized with dismay that I could think practically anything about Eden and still want her.
Fuck, I thought. As I made way to the bathroom and turned on the shower, I refused to think about what I was doing. I stripped out of my clothes, my cock catching on the band of my underwear and popping free, like a monster released from a cage. When I put my hand around my shaft and began to pump, I groaned out loud. It felt so good – especially when I closed my eyes and pictured Eden’s sweet little poochy mouth wrapping around the head and sucking me with enthusiasm that more than made up for her lack of experience.
The water got hotter and hotter and I got under the spray, throwing my head back and picturing Eden’s ripe body. Naked, splayed out in front of me, her limbs spread and her tits quivering as her breathing came harder and harder. The hand on my cock turned into Eden’s and I grunted with lusty pleasure as I pumped it faster and faster. No doubt her pussy would smell like the sweetest musk, all honey and nectar, and she’d blush when I buried my face in her nether lips and sucked her clit. I pictured myself reaching a hand up and groping her tits, pinching and playing with her nipples until she cried out with pleasure.
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, thrusting harder into my own hand. It was so easy to picture, Eden lying back and taking me. Eden, pushing me onto my back and riding me like a champ, undulating her body sensually on top of mine. She’d whimper and beg and moan and scream my name, bucking wildly as an intense orgasm overpowered her sweet frame.
God, I wanted her so bad. I grunted again and with my free hand, cupped and toyed with my balls until I felt my cock explode with hot cum, gushing powerfully into the shower.
The orgasm hit me like a huge wave and I was gasping and groaning, thrusting hard and pretending that I was filling Eden with my seed as I did so. She’d be so ready, be so willing and waiting and hot and wet and ready for me.
In that moment, I wanted her so bad that I could have actually wept.
When it was over and my heart rate was slowing back to normal, a wave of anger and guilt washed over me. How had I done that, gotten in the shower and jacked off like a teenager, pretended that Eden Cooper was riding my cock?
Setting my mouth in a grim line, I washed my hands and then turned off the shower.
I had done it – and there was no going back.
I just had to vow to myself that I’d never, not under any circumstances, do it again.
And now, I had to get over Eden.
No matter what.
7
Eden – Monday
Like most of the human race, I hated Mondays. I always had – there was just something about the very word that put me off and made me wake up in a bad mood. Growing up with a single mom, Mondays had been especially rough. Mom
and I would spend weekends doing things together, usually cheap stuff like checking out local art festivals or strolling through the farmers’ market. School hadn’t ever been fun for me, at least not until I got old enough to take AP classes in high school – calling me an outcast would have implied too much effort on the behalf of my fellow students, but I had never, ever been popular (despite copious trying in my younger years).
And weekends had been an escape from all of that. Mom had always treated me as an adult, as her equal. Maybe it was because she herself had always longed for adult interaction since she and my dad had split when I was little, but it was what I’d come to expect from all adults. I recalled an incident from daycare when I was a kid, where I’d said “no, thank you” to a spoonful of mushy vegetables at lunch time and then been indignant when the worker had given them to me anyway.
Mom had never treated me like that ... well, not most of the time, anyway.
But all of my teachers had, not to mention the workers at the daycare where I’d gone until I’d turned eleven. And Monday mornings had meant waking up and realizing that I had no place in the adult world after all, that I had to go and participate and be a kid, which I’d always hated.
In college, Mondays weren’t much better. Not because I’d been out partying and drinking all weekend like a lot of kids, even Petra, but because I felt that old pain from years before coming on strong. I couldn’t shake it.
Sometimes, I wondered if I’d ever be able to shake it.
This Monday, though, I woke up almost relieved. I didn’t have a class with Professor Marks today, and that was probably a good thing. After literally running into him in the grocery store over the weekend, the last thing I wanted was to saunter into his class and talk about literature.
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.
Forbidden First Times: A Contemporary Romance Collection Page 106
