by Kahlen Aymes
It wasn’t just her body I wanted… I craved something more profound than just sex for the first time in my life, and the admission, even if only to myself, rocked me to the core.
12
The page loomed blank in front of me the same way it had all week. The assignment was due on Monday and I didn’t have a word of it written.
How could I put my experience with my sexy professor down on paper? How could I do it justice? Just thinking about it made fire lick through my veins. How could I bare my soul to him? How could I let him know what utter power he had over me after just one night together? Surely, this was some sick, sadistic torture, designed to make me regret my actions even more than I already did. And the torture was not just for me, but for him, as well. Was he going to subject himself to two hundred different versions of the scene? Then again, maybe that would help lessen the magnificence of the real thing.
I pushed the laptop back on the desk and dropped my head into my folded arms.
“Uhhhh!” I moaned. A myriad of emotions flooded through me, but the most prevalent was regret. “Damn him. Damn me!”
I was half tempted to write -—“I can’t write this. Give me an F.”— five hundred times and turn it in. It would serve him right and he’d probably just laugh; right before he gave me the F I’d asked for. I wanted to scream but couldn’t because I was in the library commons. “Fuck this,” I muttered, slamming my laptop shut and putting it away.
Standing outside the library, I debated about taking a cab back to our apartment, but cab fare in New York was horrendous but was the lesser of two evils. Giving in, I put my hand in the air. “Taxi!” I called.
I’d decided to walk to campus earlier this morning. I couldn’t sleep anyway, plus, I’d hoped the walk would help me figure out how to put it into words. I hoped it would give me clarity, but those moments thinking about Jax, plodding along through the streets of New York on this late fall morning only served to hammer my predicament into my head. I was monumentally screwed, plus it hurt. I was humiliated after I’d begged forgiveness and he said nothing. I’d been in his class three times since “the night” as I’d come to think of it, and every time chose a seat in the back of the auditorium so he couldn’t make direct eye contact with me. Maybe it was cowardly, but I wasn’t a masochist. I just couldn’t be that close to him without running the risk of falling apart. It was hard enough listening to his voice.
I was such a coward. Nothing at all like the heroine in my book. She was brave, able to voice what she wanted. She was the one who turned Jax on. Maybe it wasn’t even me he wanted, I lamented miserably.
I’d given the cab driver the address and sat in somewhat of a daze as we made the trek through Manhattan. It was 10 PM on Friday night and Michelle was probably out with friends and her boyfriend, Mark. My head fell back on the seat. I was so tired of fighting the impulse to give in to what I wanted, and the risk to my heart be damned.
“Here we are, Miss.” The cab driver said in his thick foreign accent.
“Oh.” I sat up; startled out of my thoughts. I dug around in the front zipper pocket of my backpack for my debit card. “Sorry,” I said as I swiped it in the doohickey attached to the screen that separated the front and back seats, adding a minimum tip. It sucked being a college student in New York City. I mean the experience was awesome, but it was so damn expensive, every penny counted.
When I stepped out of the car, I realized I was standing in front of Jax’s apartment building. My stomach flipped inside my body and my face began to burn.
What the hell was I doing here?
Apparently, I’d given his address to the driver instead of mine. The building concierge opened one of the double glass doors at the entrance. “Good evening, young lady,” he said pleasantly. He was a jolly grey-haired gentleman with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. He reminded me of Santa Clause sans beard, mustache and red suit. He stood, waiting for me to walk through.
I smiled gently. “Thank you,” I murmured, passing him on my way into the impressive lobby. I inhaled deeply as I walked to the security desk. There were two attendants behind it. One male and one female, both dressed in dark, impeccable uniforms.
“Good evening,” the woman greeted me. “Who are you here to see? I’ll announce you.”
My face felt hot and my heart began to pound. He probably wasn’t home anyway. “Jaxon Michaels.”
“Yes, ma’am. May I say who is visiting?”
“Addison Tomms.” My voice all but cracked on my response. I was shaking and I wasn’t sure if I was afraid that he’d be cold and reject me again, or whether I’d fall completely under his spell once more.
“Just a moment.” She picked up the phone and pushed a few of the buttons. “Dr. Michaels, Ms. Tomms is here to see you. Yes, sir. Have a good evening.”
She smiled. “It’s the penthouse. 60th floor; 6004. Go on up.” She pointed to the elevators. “Use the far-right elevator.”
“Thank you.” I wasn’t going to say that I already knew the way. I walked across the marble floor toward the elevator, remembering it had a card key entry. Magically it opened when I reached it. Inside, I tried to calm my nerves; building up my bravado. I was here to tell him he could take this assignment and shove it up his arrogant ass. I inhaled a deep breath, filling my lungs and exhaling slowly as the elevator raced into the sky.
Ding. The doors slid open when it arrived on the sixtieth floor. This was it.
I forced myself to walk toward his door and ring the doorbell.
You can do this, Addison. You can. My own voice ran through my brain over and over to the point I wanted to smack myself in the head to quiet it. He knew I was coming, so the door would probably open immediately so I’d have no time to prepare. I steeled myself for the confrontation that was ahead of me. But when the elevator opened and the door to his penthouse was still closed; I bristled. Didn’t he even care at all?
Well, fuck him and the horse he rode in on. I gave his door the finger. If he was going to ignore me, then fine. I huffed indignantly and started to turn back to the elevator when his door finally opened.
“Addison!” he commanded as I reached for the elevator button. That voice behind me stopped me in my tracks, my hand dropping back to my side. “Get in here.” The last was said much more softly.
I told myself to keep my face stoic even though my heart was hammering inside my chest. I didn’t want him to know I was dying inside. I turned slowly, my hungry eyes roaming over his rumpled appearance. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other as I hovered in the landing.
Jax was still dressed in the shirt and slacks he’d worn that day to class, but his tie was gone, and his shirt was unbuttoned and hanging open; his magnificently muscled chest and six-pack abs were in full view. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to the middle of his corded forearms, and my mouth went dry. He was probably drunk, if the glaze over his expression was anything to judge by, but he was still so devastatingly attractive. It was a sin for someone to be that handsome.
One of his wrists casually rested on the door frame, and the other held a fine crystal tumbler one-third full of an amber liquid. His hair was beautifully mussed in a sexy mess, his strong jaw a bit darker by the full days’ worth of stubble, and his deep blue eyes heavy lidded and brooding.
Without a word he pushed the door open, letting it swing wide, but didn’t move an inch. In order to enter, I had to come within a hair’s breadth of his body. God, he was so incredibly sexy, and he smelled so good; an intoxicating mix of cologne, scotch, and spicy soap.
I moved past him into the foyer but went no further. I turned, my eyes examining him more closely as he closed the door and then turned to face me. He shoved the hand not holding the glass into his left pocket and waited for me to speak. He wasn’t going to make this easy. Our eyes locked in a challenge.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded
“I wanted to talk to you,” I began.
Dread filled my heart.
What if he wouldn’t listen? “Really? Your actions have already made your position clear.”
I huffed out my angry surprise. How dare he? Yes, I ran, but I’d come to his office and basically groveled. He was the one who’d been cold.
“Oh, right. Because it isn’t as if I’d already asked you to forgive me, or anything. That action?” I didn’t bother to hide my annoyance. It didn’t matter how fucktastic he was, my effort deserved to be acknowledged.
Jax’s eyebrow cocked, and his face took on a wry expression as he shrugged.
He moved further into his apartment, leaving nothing for me except to follow. It was dimly illuminated by an understated chandelier positioned high in the center of the large room. The warm amber light leaving much of the room in shadows and creating a calm and romantic ambiance. There was soft music playing in the background on what I assumed was a central audio system. The place oozed masculine sexuality.
I was able to take in the vastness of the space, made more spacious by the tall windows. There was a wet bar along one wall, sparsely furnished with classic modern leather furniture. The art on the walls was minimalist, but each one had a small light illuminating it. There was a shiny black grand piano by one of the windows that had completely escaped me on my first visit. Musical talent only made him even more devastatingly attractive.
Of course, I thought, disgruntled. He had to play piano, too. He didn’t already make women pass out in his wake. I shook my head and looked at the ceiling.
He went to the bar to refill his glass. He reached behind the bar and took down another glass from it. He held it up.
“Drink?” he asked. He didn’t seem surprised that I’d abruptly showed up at his door. A part of me was upset that he didn’t immediately pull me close and kiss me. Didn’t he feel the incredible pull between us? To me, it was physically painful just to be in the same room with him and not have his hands on me. What the fuck was I thinking coming here? Clearly, he wasn’t interested.
“Yes… I mean, no,” I stammered. “Thank you. I only came here to tell you I can’t do the assignment. I’ve tried several times. I just can’t write about us. Like that. It’s too personal.”
He set the empty glass on the mahogany bar and picked up his own glass again, taking a swallow of his drink. I felt like a sacrificial lamb unable to move, paralyzed and mesmerized by a predator about to pounce.
Jax huffed impatiently. “Writing is personal, Addison. Sometimes you have to dig deep. If you do end up with a career in publishing, you’ll have deadlines. Some insipid whining that you can’t deliver won’t cut it and you’ll be in breach of contract.”
“Well, thanks for the lesson in publishing contracts 101, but I can’t write about our night together.”
“You have your assignment. Don’t think because we fucked, you’ll get a pass.” He smiled arrogantly. “If you came here for more inspiration, I’m inclined to oblige.” Jaxon’s eyes burned into me. “Provided you promise not to run away again.”
The book-bag hanging on my right shoulder felt like it weighed a hundred pounds as I stood frozen to the spot where I was standing. I swallowed at the tightness in my throat, even as I began to feel my traitorous body begin to respond. He could arouse me without even touching me. There was something behind his eyes as they glinted darkly in the low light. “This is too difficult. I’ve apologized already. Why are you being such a dick?” I said, my voice cracking on the last words.
“Because… I know you were right to run.” The admission was unwillingly given.
We stood staring at each other, painfully. I could see the hunger in his eyes, and I knew it was eating me alive. “I don’t believe that. I was just overwhelmed last week.” Didn’t he realize he was larger than life? Didn’t he know that anyone as inexperienced as me might have done the same?
“What is it you want, Addison? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”
I felt a flutter in my stomach as my blood turned to liquid fire. This was my last chance. It was time to be honest even though it gave him even more power over me.
“I want to be with you.” Standing there, my sex clenched involuntarily, and I felt lightheaded. My body cried out for his, my mouth craved his feasting on mine. Every cell of my skin was screaming for his touch.
“If I touch you, I won’t be able to stop.” His voice was low, yet deep, and his eyes were intense as they roamed over me.
“I won’t ask you too.” The air between us vibrated. I could feel him from across the room. “I don’t want you to stop.”
He downed the rest of his drink and moved slowly toward me, then pulled my bag off my shoulder and set it on the hardwood floor at my feet. Without breaking eye contact, Jax’s hand took mine and electricity shot through me at his touch; the promise of what was to come vibrating around us. His fingers slid through mine and then moved with me to the stairs and up to the bedroom. I trailed behind him, my hand clinging to his like a lifeline.
The upstairs was as dimly lit as the rest of the apartment. I imagined that a vampire’s lair would be just this seductive; designed to elicit no resistance, only hypnotized compliance as he did his worst. Or, in Jax’s case, his best.
My eyes closed; trusting, knowing he’d take care of me and give me the most intense pleasure I’d ever known while asking nothing in return, but his own.
His bedroom door was open, and he led me through and then past the massive bed and into an enormous bathroom. There was a free-standing bathtub on one side, the long granite vanity and huge mirror on one wall and a big, glass-enclosed shower at the opposite end of the slate-covered floor. The colors were dark grays, against lighter shades that would no doubt be stark white in full light, accented with lush deep burgundy towels and shining chrome fixtures.
Whatever was in store for me, I was helpless to resist and had no desire to. I wanted nothing more than his hands and mouth on me.
He released my hand just long enough to walk to the vanity to retrieve the remote. Water began pouring out from multiple shower heads. The water went from a vigorous spray to what sounded and looked like rainfall.
My eyes drank him in as he turned and began to peel my clothes from me. My hands lifted to push the shirt off his muscular shoulders. My body leaned into his, yearning for contact. My chin lifted and my mouth dropped open. I moaned, my eyes closing as his hands rid me of my clothes, his fingers lightly caressing every exposed inch of skin.
“Jax,” I whispered.
“Hush. Don’t you want to make love in the rain?” He whispered, bending to place his open mouth on the curve of my neck, denying my starving mouth for just a moment more. The sensation of his fingers ghosting over the top swells of my breasts above my lace bra and the oh-so-soft sucking and nipping at the skin of my throat as he worked his way up to my jaw, and finally dragging his lips up over my chin and cheek. I was dying; completely melting in his arms.
When his mouth closed hungrily over mine it was the perfect blending of greedy desire and gentle teasing. How could a kiss be so desperate, and yet, so coaxing at the same time?
Goosebumps derived from anticipation and desire covered my body as I fumbled with his belt and the opening of his slacks, only content when I pushed them open. I was trembling under his sensual assault. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I opened like a flower, sucking it inside. He tasted familiar; of liquor, yes, but more of him. His scent, his taste, his touch… my senses were hyper-sensitive.
“Mmmmm,” I moaned in surrender, my hands roaming up the hard, muscled biceps and broad shoulders to finally tangle in his hair and pull his mouth tighter against mine as I sucked his tongue in deeper. He tasted amazing and I couldn’t get enough.
Never breaking the kiss, Jax’s movements were smooth and sure; his hands becoming more urgent as he unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, pulling them open. I felt the hardness of his erection, proud and full against my stomach. His palms slid inside the denim to cup both cheeks of my butt, pressing me closer to him as we kissed over and
over again, each one deeper and more urgent than the one before. A groan erupted from somewhere deep inside his chest.
I wasn’t sure how it happened, but we ended up in the shower, naked. I didn’t even know how it happened or even that it had until I felt the warmth of the hot water streaming over my skin and plastering my hair to my forehead; I was so focused on his body beneath my hands and his mouth sumptuously consuming mine. I was utterly lost in him. What was it about this man that completely dominated me? Why did just one touch, or even a look, turn me to jelly? I didn’t know, and in the moment, I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel.
Jax’s fingers worked their magic until he had me gasping and arching, silently begging for more. His leg parted mine and he lifted me against the glass wall, his hips pushing between my thighs and his throbbing cock nudging my entrance. He held me in place with his body so his hands could tantalize and tease mine. I cried out when he gently tweaked and tugged the nipples of first one breast, then the other. He left my mouth wanting as he buried his lips in the curve of my neck and down to the top of my shoulder. His white teeth nipping at my flesh in between episodes of gentle sucking. The effect was thrilling.
Just being close to him, his magic hands and mouth would have been enough, but I felt empty, opening; longing for him to fill me; aching to feel him push inside. I reached between us, my hand sliding around him, I urged him forward until the thick head of his dick entered me.
“Uhhh…” I sighed. My head dropped forward until my forehead rested on his strong shoulder. “Jax, please…” I begged. “Come inside.”
His mouth stilled its hungry assault on the curve between my neck and shoulder and he groaned, deep and feral. The fingers of my free hand raked down his back.
