Paris Hemsworth's Road to Wonderland (Road to Wonderland Series Book 2)

by Marlow, Francesca

  Snatching at the handouts that are flying around, my eyes lock on the title and all I can do is stare in total disbelief.

  “You should all have the handout by now. Like I said, for this module there will be a coursework element. It is a case study based upon a hypothetical company I have created, called “The Yummers.” You’ll learn more about the inspiration for that over the next few weeks.”

  I start to cough, and I can’t stop. I feel like I’m choking. As I hit my chest with my fist, my head rises and my eyes dart in his direction, blood gradually draining from my face. He is staring directly at me with a huge charismatic grin, which lets me know in no uncertain terms, he’s aware I’m in his class and he’s going to have fun taunting me.

  The arrogant bastard.

  I’m screwed.

  Thirteen

  12th March 2001

  The first few weeks of term have been very uncomfortable. I’ve tried my best to keep my head down and ignore all of Professor Stone’s little jibes about what we did that night. Needless to say, once this module is over, I will not be committing to any more business ones. To add to it, Mav thinks I have a crush on him, repeatedly taking the piss out of me for my coy moodiness in his class. There is no way I can confess to her what happened. Besides the fact she would have a field day, he is a tutor, and I am a student. I’m pretty certain there is something in the fine print somewhere about that type of encounter being against the rules.

  There I go again, breaking the rules.

  I never set out to do it intentionally, yet it still happens. After week three, I learn to switch off. Stubbornness grabs my stupidity by the proverbial balls, forcing me not to let this guy distract another moment of my time. Despite being extremely good-looking, he clearly isn’t worth it.

  I’ve been doing well for two weeks until he announces in class, “I’m going to schedule a one to one with you all to see how you’re getting on with the case study.”

  As if it isn’t bad enough he based it upon “The Yummers,” he now wants to see us all individually to discuss it. I proceed to complain to Mav for the next twenty-four hours about how ridiculous it is to have a one to one with everyone, and how it really isn’t necessary. She argues that it’s a great idea. His dedication to helping his students is above most of the tutors she has had up to date. If anything, all my moaning has done is cement her little crush theory further. She is enjoying watching me squirm. I wish I had kept my mouth shut. In her defence, she’s only doing what we have always done, and I have kept the secret from her, so she’s none the wiser. I shouldn’t be angry with her for having a joke at my expense.

  I lay in my room for hours, trying to come up with a convincing excuse not to attend, but they all sound lame. None of them are going to cut it.

  Death in the family.

  Too much other studying to do.

  Massive migraine.

  Doctors appointment.

  I simply forgot.

  Then an off the cuff remark Mav makes has me thinking.

  “If you don’t go, you’re only going to make him more aware of your little crushy wushy, Goosey Loosey.”

  She has a good point. If I avoid going, it will only give him more ammunition. I need to face the music. It might even give me the opportunity I need to have this awkward situation out with him – to tell him to leave me alone, that I don’t want to be a pawn in his pathetic, jerk-off games anymore. If I show him I’m not the feeble little girl he quite clearly has me pegged as, then there is the slightest hope he may start to ease off. If anything, all the sneering on his part makes me wonder whether he isn’t quite the smart, mature adult he portrays.

  I ride my bike to the meeting. There is nothing like it to get the adrenaline pumping. I need to get my feisty side into gear so I can march straight on into that building and give Professor my-personality-doesn’t-match-with-my-bedroom-skills Stone a piece of my mind. I refuse to let him get the better of me anymore. I made one mistake. It’s not like I’m the first person ever to sleep with a man I shouldn’t have. Being the professional he is supposed to be, I would expect more decency and tact from him. I’m not the child he thinks I am. I am a strong young woman, or at least that’s what I chant repeatedly in my mind all the way through the corridor and up in the lift to his floor.

  “Just don’t give him a chance to speak. Hit him with it hard and get out. Just get out,” I mutter under my breath while my eyes rake over the signs to pinpoint the exact location of his office.

  Coming to a halt outside the door, I take a moment’s breather before balling my hand into a fist and giving it a confident knock. I make a concerted effort to make it sound loud and firm, like an empowered woman, not a cowering girl. I stand, tapping one hand on top of the other, my legs anxiously jiggling. He will know it’s me on the other side no matter how hard I make my knock sound. I wouldn’t put it past him to leave me hanging out here just to play with me some more. He likes mind games, which could be intriguing if he weren’t so damn insulting. I’m about to bash on the wood again when I hear a simple command to enter.

  Strutting through with my head held high, I spot him sat in a big black leather chair behind a desk. He has one foot on his knee and is leaning back with his hands clutched in his lap. It’s a casual, laid-back position, yet it feels so intimidating to me. He’s my tutor; he shouldn’t be sat like we’re about to have a cosy chat and open a bottle of chardonnay together. Surely he appears more professional than this with the other students. Ignoring what could yet be another ploy to catch me off guard, I don’t give him a chance to say anything. Digging into my bag, I pull out the case study I’ve been working on and toss it onto his desk.

  “This is what I’ve done so far. I trust you’ll be able to look over this in my absence, given the circumstances, and get back to me when you’ve finished.”

  It’s a ballsy move, but it’s the best option to get me out of here as quickly as possible. At least I’ve shown my face and let him see I’m not going to take his crap.

  There’s a long, awkward silence while he continues to sit in the chair, cocking his head and casting a glare at me. It makes me shift from one foot to the other as my fingers do a little dance with one other. I don’t know what to do. His eyes crease while he seems to get lost in thought. Is it possible that I managed to render him speechless, or is he toying with me again? Aware that someone needs to break the tension, I clear my throat and croak out.

  “Right, so, I’m going if that’s all.”

  As one of my feet creeps backward to edge towards the door, he swiftly drops his foot to the floor and stands up from the chair, pushing it backwards. His eyes never leave mine as he begins to leisurely walk around the desk, perching on it with his arms folded across his chest.

  “Why are you hostile, Paris? If I remember correctly, you were the one that fled my apartment without a single word.”

  “I… I… Er.” My tongue ties up in a knot as I struggle to find an answer. I can’t quite comprehend what I’m hearing. He’s calling me hostile when he’s the one playing childish games.

  “Not so forthcoming now, are you? Don’t you think you at least owe me an explanation?” he presses.

  I’m astounded by the gall of the man. He genuinely believes I am the one that has the explaining to do. It’s completely laughable.

  “You are joking, right?”

  “Do I look like a man who is joking?” His face is poker straight as he continues to glare.

  He’s deadly serious. Wow.

  I place a hand on one hip and start to ramble. “You’ve made the last six weeks of being in your class a living hell for me with your smug little jibes here and there. You’ve made it clear how much of an idiot I made of myself that night.” Fighting the flush from my cheeks and pushing the images from the forefront of my mind, I carry on. “I’m just a joke to you.” Wafting my hand towards the file lying on his desk. “For God’s sake, Rob, you even named the case study…” I wince at what he called it. “Wel
l, you know what you called it. I’m done playing your pathetic games, so I think it would be better for both of us if we skip this whole one to one, and it most certainly would be appreciated if you could find another student to laugh at. Thank you.”

  “Is that what you think, Paris? That I’ve been having a laugh at your expense?”

  “That’s exactly-” My sentence is cut off as he jumps straight in, holding his hand in the air.

  “No, I’ve listened to you. Now you listen to me.”

  My mouth snaps shut. Again, not the reaction I expected, yet I can’t help but think he’s used to women doing as he asks. I watch on as he speaks, sporting a little pout to show him I may be quiet, but I’m not bloody happy about it.

  “When you left my apartment, I felt something I haven’t experienced for years. Disappointment. I won’t lie to you, I have had plenty of women, Paris, but not one of them was like you.” Unfolding his arms, he begins to rise from the desk. “You were smart, funny and not afraid to put yourself out there. You weren’t just going through the motions, trying to please me like the rest of them.” I spot a flicker in his eyes, like they just came to life. He moves forward, closing the gap between us as his voice lowly rumbles. “I wish you had stayed that morning.” His hand reaches out to hover around my cheek and my body stiffens. Not because I’m scared of what he’ll do but because I’m afraid of being drawn into his bewitching spell. The man is clearly relentless and used to getting what he wants. I’m not strong enough to fight his charm. He’s like a freaking model. What woman could resist?

  “When I saw your name on the register, I hoped it was you. There can’t be that many people named Paris around here. It’s a beautiful name.” His hand moves that inch further to cup my cheek and the tension in my body instantly relaxes, my head dipping slightly into his embrace. I know I should stop, but I can’t. The traitorous bitch that is my body is at it again. “I haven’t been taunting you, Paris. I’ve been fighting to get your attention.” His free hand cups my other cheek as he tilts my head upwards to face him. “This one to one was my last option to get you close.” His forehead drops to mine, our warm, needy breaths melding together. “I want you, Paris, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I know it’s wrong. I know we shouldn’t, but with you I just can’t stop myself. I want to taste you again, to smell your sex scent spread all over my sheets, all over my cock. I want you, Yummers.”

  A tiny giggle escapes me at hearing my pet name. It’s so embarrassing, but he seems to take pride in using it. He’s not mocking me this time. He takes the last tiny step forward so that our bodies are now flush against each other, allowing me to feel exactly how much he wants me. If nothing else is true, I know I at least turn him on. As his lips brush against mine, all the doubts whirl around in my head. I’m still probably just a game to him – the one that got away. I bruised his ego and he’s become infatuated with chasing someone he knows he can’t have. I’m just a challenge, which once he’s sunk his flawless pearly whites into, will become boring. I know all of this… I know better… But it’s very rare I do the right thing.

  All sensibility drifts out of the window along with the rulebook.

  My lips crash against his, basking in the beauty of Professor Rob Stone. One more reckless, selfish moment of indulgence with him can’t hurt anyone. I’m an adult. I’m aware of his faults. As long as I don’t lose sight of that, I don’t see why I can’t have one more passionate night of fun. My arousal is heightened from the knowledge of how dangerous this encounter is. He’s my tutor. He’s my forbidden fruit, and all I can think about now is sinking my teeth into his firm, peachy butt one last time.

  Fourteen

  11th May 2001

  As with most best-laid plans, they don't ever work out as intended. My one night of selfish indulgence proves no different. I’ve had a taste of the peach and now there’s no going back. My conscience keeps on reminding me how wrong the situation is, that the outcome could be serious for us both, but the more it niggles away at me, the more persuasive Rob becomes. I thought I had seen it all that first night, but the secret, snatched moments here and there are proving to be addictive. As the weeks fly by, the more daring we become at pushing the boundaries, with a little brush of the hand or a delicate touch on the nape of my neck as we pass each other. It all adds to the yearning I feel daily for him, not to mention the passion. I just can’t get enough, and he knows it. With him, I am lost and found. He has such an intense hold over me; he makes me feel alive again. The respite he provides from my daily, shitty life makes it too damn difficult to stop.

  I felt low last night, so I decided to text Rob and see if he fancied comforting me. I considered asking Izzy, but I know she would have pressed me for details as to how I’m feeling about today, and I all I wanted to do was switch off for a while. Luckily he said yes, because if he hadn’t, I would have no doubt lost myself to a bottle of Southern Comfort or been hitting up a bar. At least this way, I have the afterglow of sex to roll in instead of a stinking hangover.

  As per usual, I have ended up in his apartment. All our sexual encounters take place within the confines of his office or here. He doesn’t allow us to be seen together in public as it’s far too risky for his career. I still haven't breathed a word of it to Izzy, despite desperately wanting to. It kills me to keep secrets from her but I promised Rob I wouldn't tell a soul, and I don’t break promises, however much it hurts.

  “I’m going for a run,” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss on my back before lazily dragging himself from the bed.

  I can’t help but smile softly in response, swinging my contented legs from side to side in the air. "Okay."

  As he stands, I lie on my tummy and watch him tie his hair back, slip on some shorts and saunter on over to the treadmill he has tucked away in the corner. I don’t think I will ever tire of admiring his sweaty, well-defined torso. The one thing I am tiring of is the cold spot left right next to me. Rob is good at making me feel special when we are lying together, but the moment he puts some distance between us, it’s like I have been dropped into the Antarctic. He is quite happy to run in silence and have no words spoken between us, but the quieter he is, the more curious I become. I’d love nothing more than to know the intricate details of Rob’s life, but he isn’t exactly forthcoming with information. I do try not to ask, but sometimes my brain and mouth don’t listen to one another.

  Averting my eyes from him working out is a struggle, but I quietly slope off the bed, slip into one of his expensive shirts and pad my way over towards the bookcase. How I missed it that first night, I’ll never know. The ceiling to floor shelves practically cover one wall. He owns all the classics, Shakespeare, poetry and obviously a range of textbooks.

  “Izzy would love it,” I whisper.

  As I glide my hands across the books, enjoying the leather feel and heavenly scent, I drift towards the next wall. I might mill around subtly, but I’m still pretty perceptive. A picture on the wall soon holds my interest.

  "Is this your father?"

  "It is."

  "You look like him," I say softly, unable to tear my eyes away. "And that's your mum beside him?" I ask, even though I already know the answer. The way she's looking up into the eyes of the man she loves makes a small knot form in my stomach, and I can't help but imagine that might be us in twenty years, even though I know immediately that the thought is not just premature, but also completely fucking impossible.

  "Yes, Paris," he answers flatly.

  "They look happy together."

  I can sense from his tone that Rob is becoming a little agitated with me asking questions. It’s just another reminder of how volatile our relationship is. One minute it's strained, the next it's explosive, and while half of the time I’m left out in the cold, it's what leaves me craving more.

  I’m about to ask more when I catch a glimpse of the time.

  “Shit, I didn’t realise how late it is. I have to go.” Hurrying back towards the bedroom, I gather my clothes a
nd get dressed.

  All I hear in response to my mad dash is, “No worries.”

  I sigh, wishing he could at least show a bit of curiosity in return. I just don’t know how much longer this can go on for without me getting hurt. Deep down, I know it won’t last but no matter how much I try and convince myself to walk away, I can’t find the courage to let go.

  Finishing off getting ready, I fumble around in my bag for my keys and stop just before the door to admire him one last time before I leave. With us not sharing information about our pasts, he has no idea as to the significance of today. I want to be able to share things with him, and I also want him to be interested. But, no matter how hard I wish things could be different, they won’t change. I know if I confront him about it, I will lose him for good and I don’t want that either. I’m not ready to let go just yet.

  “Bye then,” I say sadly.

  He nods in return and I slip out of the front door the same way as I slipped in… Discreetly.

  I could get lost in thought over the in’s and out’s of Rob Stone but today is more important to me. It is nothing to do with him or our unconventional relationship; it’s about me spending time with the only man I’ve ever truly loved.

  I allow myself the journey over from Leeds to Manchester to fight the sad truths about our relationship, but now I have to force those to the back of my mind and concentrate on why I’m here – to see my dad. All my focus is for him today. No matter how special Rob is, when it comes to my dad, he'll always have his little girl's heart.

  After arriving in a taxi, I stroll through the cemetery towards my dad’s grave. The crisp, clean air is refreshing on my face. There are plenty of vibrant flowers in bloom scattered around the grounds. It’s nice to come back here on such a pleasant day and appreciate the surroundings in a different light. The dark cloud has been lifted, allowing a peaceful smile to creep across my face, knowing I’m about to get to spend some quality time with my father. I’m close to feeling slightly invigorated as my eyes drift towards the final direction I need to go.