by Alex Wolf
She scolded herself for the thought. The last thing she hoped was that he was suffering the way she was. She didn’t want that for him, and she’d probably already worried him. She could tell by the sound of his voice he was disappointed when she’d left with Jordan.
As mad as she was, she wanted him to be happy.
She stared at herself in the mirror one last time. Damn, she did look good. And while she didn’t want Wiseman to see her, she definitely wanted to turn heads at the bar. It would remind her that she was still desirable to some men. Maybe she would go back to Jordan’s place with him. Or maybe Stefani was right and she’d find some other hottie to take her home. And she’d forget all about her professor.
If Wiseman didn’t want her, that was his loss, not hers.
She didn’t have the time to worry about it.
But one thing lingered on her mind. She knew if another man fucked her tonight, she’d most definitely be pretending it was the professor.
Chapter Nine
Grant paced back and forth. He was restless, stalking first to his living room, then back out to the kitchen. He ended up in the bedroom and didn’t even remember where all he’d been. His dinner sat untouched on the table, already cold from neglect. She’d disrupted his entire routine, and he was usually a creature of habit. He would go home, have dinner, grade any papers he hadn’t finished at the office, then maybe read or watch something on television, if he didn’t have any other plans.
He had few visitors in his life—no surprises. Apart from Hank stopping by earlier in the week, he couldn’t remember the last time he had anyone over. He liked it that way. If life was predictable, he knew what came next. Knew how to handle it and what to expect.
As he ran his hand down the curtain, Grant’s mind drifted to Mercedes Hutchins, a young woman he’d known when he was in college. Her parents wanted to give her a name that would be different. Little did they know, twenty years later it’d be a fairly common name. But then again, it was California, so it didn’t surprise him that parents named their children after luxury cars.
Grant hadn’t thought about Mercedes in years. She was one of the only women he’d ever fallen for. They were young and in love, so to speak. He’d dated other women and always thought about whether they might be the one for him in the beginning, but nothing ever came of it. Mercedes was different though. He truly thought he might spend the rest of his life with her. He was an idiot back then.
They’d followed the usual path of social encounters—dating, sex, falling in love.
Like all young relationships in high school, they began to talk about schools and after-high-school plans. She was accepted at one college. He would be going to a different school. They would be thousands of miles apart. It seemed a lifetime away for them while they dated, at least it’d felt like it, until the time had finally come.
As the time came, it became very emotional for them. The sex was more than sex. They were both in love, though they’d refused to admit it to one another. They didn’t want to break up and didn’t want to think about it. They put it off until the day before she was supposed to leave.
They had a long conversation the night before Mercedes was going to school.
“This sucks.”
“I know,” said Grant.
“What are we going to do?”
“What can we do? You’re going.” His voice was dry and raspy, but he refused to cry in front of her.
“I don’t want to go. I have to.” Her head angled to the ground. “What about us?” The word hung in the air.
“Us? There is no us, is there?” He looked over at her as he spoke, expecting her to have some sort of answer that would solve all their problems. But she didn’t have a response right then. She just sat there. They’d never even acknowledged they were dating out loud.
What were they?
They were having sex. They went out often. They were on the phone all night long.
Mercedes shook her head. “I don’t know. Friends? Two people having fun to pass the time? What would you call it?” She looked over at Grant with expectation in her eyes, but he lost his nerve.
There were so many things he’d wanted to tell her. Things he wanted to ask her. Things he had blatantly assumed about their relationship that evidently wasn’t the case. She’d just admitted they weren’t anything but friends.
He shrugged and turned away as he looked across the football field, wishing the pain in his chest would go away. His heart constricted thinking about it, and no matter how much air he took in, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t the same excitement they’d had in the beginning. His life was over. He couldn’t live without her. He wasn’t the same person.
“Are you going to date at the new school?” He shouldn’t have asked her that, but he couldn’t help it. A jealous rage came over him at even the thought of her being with someone else. He was the only man she’d ever been with, and likewise for him.
They shared something, and he didn’t want to lose it.
“I’m sure you’ll have someone new before me.” She chuckled half-heartedly at her joke, but Grant could see the same pain in her eyes. He had to look away.
Nothing could stop the passing of time, and neither of them were ready. The sun was coming up, and the sky turned gray.
They had sex for the last time. Then she got up, grabbed her things, and left.
She’d called when she landed in Florida, but that was one of the only phone calls he received. They drifted apart fast. Too fast. He figured she’d replaced him the second she got there.
He was wrong.
Six months later, she wrote him a lengthy letter detailing her pregnancy. One she’d found out about right before she went to Florida. She’d wanted to tell him before but couldn’t figure out how.
She’d meant to tell him everything as soon as she got to Florida, but for some reason, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it—kept putting it off. She met someone else shortly after. It was fireworks from the beginning, and she decided to terminate the pregnancy before her new fling found out. Grant read through the letter several times in disbelief, shocked at what he saw.
She’d taken the life of his unborn baby, all without telling him. She’d made decisions that affected the outcome of his life, stating it was all because they weren’t officially in a relationship when she’d left. If he’d just told her he loved her and wanted to be with her, maybe it would’ve all turned out differently.
Because of that, he lost his chance at having a family. He lost his chance at love. He gave up on the hope of ever finding something like that again—it’d crushed him.
Why was she on his mind now? He hadn’t thought about her in years. Why think about Mercedes when his real problem was Kristen going downtown with some college idiot? It didn’t make any sense. Grant knew it, but he couldn’t shake her from his mind.
Why couldn’t he just go to bed? She was nothing but a young student that he’d turned down.
Why was he thinking about women at all? It shouldn’t be that hard to just forget about women as a species, for that matter. Kristen, young as she was, reminded him of Mercedes in so many ways. The way she looked at him. The way she nervously flirted. As much as he wanted to deny it, it seemed Mercedes had found a way to creep back into his life again.
And he was allowing it to happen. Grant poured himself a whiskey and swirled it around in a rocks glass. He stared down at the two ice cubes clinking against the sides. The more he tried to purge Kristen from his mind, the more she consumed him. She planted herself in his thoughts, grew roots, and refused to go anywhere, no matter how hard he tried to yank her out.
She gave him no choice but to open himself up to the torture and allow her to take over. She consumed every thought in his head with her looks, passion, and lust. He poured the whiskey down his throat. It burned perfectly all the way down to his stomach, and he walked back to the kitchen for another. He thought about his behavior the past few months.
It was no wonder the girl thought of him the way she did.
And now she’d be out on the town, retaliating against him. He needed to let it go, but he couldn’t. He thought about how the Jordan kid looked at her and no doubt wanted to fuck her. That was the way the guys on the campus were. Notches on the bedpost. He couldn’t allow it to happen. She couldn’t make a potential life-long mistake because of him.
There was a bar downtown known for not checking IDs. He was almost certain that’s where they’d be. He drained the second glass of whiskey, sighed, and threw it in the sink.
What would it hurt to stop by? It’d been forever since he’d gone to a bar, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. If she asked him what he was doing there, he could pretend he went to bars all the time. Maybe he wouldn’t even see her.
He was just getting out of the house and changing things up. Living a little. He’d pretty much do the same thing in his own house, anyway. Sit there and stare at a glass full of whiskey. He wasn’t going to see her at his own house, but if he was out on the town, the possibility existed.
Chapter Ten
Lights flashed all around the room in time with the blasting music, and Kristen could barely keep everything straight in her mind. There were people crammed in the place from wall to wall. There was limited space on the dance floor for those brave enough to venture out. Jordan was trying to get laid and made no attempt at hiding that fact. It was a mistake. She shouldn’t have gone.
She wanted revenge on Grant. That’s why she’d agreed to go, but she could imagine him now. He was probably sitting at home, relaxing, doing whatever it was he did. Probably didn’t even give her a second thought. And why would he? He’d told her he enjoyed having her as a student, and that was it.
She also felt betrayed. He’d had a little fun flirting with her and then casted her aside. That didn’t sit right with her at all. He shouldn’t have put out all those signals if he wasn’t interested.
“Want another one?” Jordan shouted in her ear after finally making his way to her through the crowd.
She held up the half-full drink she still had in her hand and shook her head. “I’m good.”
She had to shout to be heard. There was no way to have a decent conversation with the music so loud and such a huge crowd in the small building. Wasn’t there a fire code or something? They had to be in violation. It wasn’t the type of place she enjoyed at all. Not that she wanted to have a conversation with Jordan anyway.
She didn’t even like him that much.
He wasn’t the man she wanted, and she wasn’t the kind of girl to go out and have revenge sex, no matter what she made Grant believe in the classroom.
“I’m going to go sit down.” A wave of nausea slammed into her stomach. She hadn’t had this much to drink since the first day of school. At the pace she was going, she was going to end up with a massive hangover.
Jordan had already found another girl to hit on. Kristen rolled her eyes and walked over to the bar to sit down.
“Can I get a water?” Her words came out slurred.
The guy looked at her for a second. Heat rushed into her face and the nausea was getting worse. She felt her cheeks flush. It’d been a long time since she was the slobbering drunk girl at the bar, trying to flag down a glass of water.
“Good choice.” The voice came from two seats down.
She quickly turned and nearly fell off the barstool, sloshing her drink out of the cup and onto the counter.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Grant leapt from his chair and grabbed her shoulders, righting her before she fell to the ground.
“What are you doing here?” Kristen tried to catch her balance, and she shrugged his hands off her.
Electricity rushed through her body, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. The pain from earlier flooded back into her. Her face heated, and she glared up at his blue eyes behind the glasses.
“You’re drunk. I’m getting you out of here.” He reached for her arm.
She yanked it away. “No.”
His eyes narrowed.
Fuck him. He wasn’t her dad. She was allowed to go out and have a good time all she wanted. She was in college after all. And he’d missed his chance and broken her heart in the process. “You don’t get to follow me around. I practically throw myself at you, and you tell me I’m no more important than any of your other students. The fuck kind of thing is that to say to someone?” She shook her head at him.
“You’re acting like an idiot. Let’s go. Now!” He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward the front door.
She stumbled along the way, halfway pissed, halfway loving the way he was manhandling her.
“Where are you taking me? I’m not leaving yet.”
He turned, and his palms landed on the side of her face. Their eyes met, and she just wanted to get lost in them for a little while. He was concerned about her. He’d gone to the bar just to look for her. He did like her.
“You’re not staying here like this. Stop acting like a child. You want to be with an adult, then grow up.”
He pulled her through the front door of the place. The cold air slammed into her face and halfway sobered her up in one instant.
She raised her eyebrow, wondering if she had heard him properly. He said “with” an adult. As in be with him? She stared at him as he guided her forcefully to the car, his hand never leaving her elbow. Had he meant to say, “you want to be an adult?”
Her pussy was already wet by the time they got to the car, but she couldn’t just let him get away with yanking her out of the bar like that. It wasn’t how the game was played. It was leverage she planned to use. Maybe if she pissed him off enough, he’d stop being such a pussy and fuck her the way she needed it.
He opened the passenger door of his car and tossed her into the front seat like she weighed nothing. She heard him swear under his breath as he stalked around the hood. All of it heated her up in ways she’d never felt before. The anticipation was slowly swirling down to her center, and her thighs squeezed together just thinking about him and the animosity between them.
“This is kidnapping.” She whipped her head his direction the second his door opened.
“This is preventing you from being a fucking idiot.” He climbed into the car and shook his head for a second, staring straight ahead. Then he turned to her. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What the hell is wrong with you? Fucking psycho, just pulling me out of there like that.”
She watched a small muscle jump in his cheek where he was clearly grinding his jaw. She wanted to lick it. She wanted to feel all of him on top of her, his cock pounding into her while he released all that pent-up frustration.
Grant took in a deep breath, refusing to look at her. She stared over at him and bit her lip unconsciously at his intensity.
“If you don’t get that lip out of your mouth, I’m going to bite the fucking thing myself.”
Her breath hitched. It was the first time he’d actually said anything out loud about his attraction to her.
She spread her legs apart and leaned back against the leather seat. His eyes darted over to her and then straight ahead. But he wasn’t driving. He wasn’t going anywhere, not yet.
“What else do you want to do to me, professor?” If he thought he could just come yank her out of the bar without giving her what she wanted, he was dead wrong. She would torture him, if necessary, to get him. She knew men. They couldn’t control themselves, no matter how much they thought they could.
He turned to look at her just as one of her hands slid down between her legs. She ran her fingers over the tops of her jeans where her pussy ached for him just below a layer of denim.
“You’re playing a dangerous game right now, Miss Monroe.”
“I can go back in the bar. Show this to someone else. Let them fuck me. If you want.”
His face hardened and turned fiery red. God, what was it about having that power over him? She wanted more of i
t. She loved how badly he wanted her and how restrained he was. When he finally cracked, gave into it, it was going to be better than anything she’d ever experienced.
“I’m all hot and wet now. Someone has to fuck me.” Her eyes rolled over to the neon lights at the bar. “I know someone in there will want me.” Her eyes darted back to his. “If it’s not professional for you to do it.”
One hand.
It fisted in her hair before she knew what’d happened. How had he moved so fast? His other hand smacked her arm out from between her legs, and he cupped her entire pussy in the palm of his hand over her jeans. His mouth was inches from her ear.
“This is mine. You understand me?”
She nodded against the hand gripping her hair. His knuckles dug into her scalp, and she found herself pushing back against his hand, wanting him to grab more of her hair, squeeze it harder. The stinging pain was heaven.
“Tell me then, Miss Monroe. Who does this pussy belong to?”
“Whoever I want it to.” Her heart was like an Olympic sprinter, running a world-record time. Fuck, she had no idea he was this possessive. She had to stoke the flames even higher. She had to push him past the edge so he’d fuck her, spank her, tie her up—all the things she needed.
His hand wrenched her head back so that she was staring up at the roof of the car. His breath was even hotter in her ear. “You like acting like a naughty little bitch, don’t you?”
“Y-y-yes.”
He licked from her collar bone up to the shell of her ear.
Goosebumps pebbled up and down her arms, and she squeezed her thighs against the hand that now cupped her pussy hard enough to bruise it.
“Yes, sir.” He smiled against her neck as he said it.
She shook her head, refusing to call him sir, all the while wanting to scream it at the top of her lungs.
