by Jillian Neal
Holly should have gone with Beth, but the sheer number of times she’d overheard some other woman lusting after Dec, calling him Professor Sex, or making plans to see him sing at Duffy’s roiled in her stomach like a building maelstrom. Her eyes landed on the Psychology Office building. It was dark except for one lone light that pierced the night, like a beacon guiding her home. Her own North star was right there.
“I can’t. I need to. . .do. . .something.”
Beth followed Holly’s gaze and grinned. “I see. Okay, well, call me later.”
“I will.” Scanning the relatively empty parking lot, Holly crossed the street and walked away from the streetlights. Her boots sank in the mulch, but at least her steps were silent.
There was really no reason she couldn’t pretend she was going in to talk to Dr. St. James during his office hours. No one would question that. She was his student. Avoiding the elevators lest she be seen unexpectedly by someone on another floor, she climbed the stairs, gaining speed the closer she got.
All of the offices on his floor were darkened, all except his. She listened by the door and could just make out the sound a male voice that wasn’t Dec’s.
Panic jolted through her. Her heart threw itself against her ribcage.
“It can’t be that bad, Dr. St. James. Just take it moment by moment, like you always tell me. I only get to see Megan once a week. Plus, I’m kind of getting used to coming up here for my appointments now. Your other office was always kinda stuffy.”
“You think?” Dec chuckled.
‘Other office.’ It was one of Dec’s patients from Lifespan. Guilt stormed through Holly’s stomach. She should never have come up here.
Suddenly, the lock popped and there he was. Scrambling for an explanation as to why she was there, she stammered out, “I had a question. . .about. . .something.”
“It’s fine, Ms. Camden. I’m working late this evening. This is my favorite patient, Matt. Matt, this is one of my favorite students, Holly Camden.” Dec made formal introductions while Holly tried to decide how a normal student would behave in this situation.
“Holly? Didn’t you say the girl you were dating was named. . . ?” Matt’s eyes flipped back and forth from Holly to Dec like a perfectly paired tennis match.
“No,” Dec insisted.
A knowing grin formed on Matt’s features. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen. Holly told herself breathe.
“Uh, okay, well, my mom’s probably here, so I gotta go. See ya Friday, Doc.”
When Matt disappeared onto the elevator, Dec offered her a stoic smile. “You okay if I close the door, Ms. Camden?” She hated the way he sounded like her professor. That wasn’t who he was. He was her everything
“Yes.” Why had he asked her that?
He not only closed the door, he restored the lock silently before turning to study her. “What’s wrong with my girl?” His voice was barely audible, but that was how he was supposed to sound. The light in his eyes when he looked at her was how he was always supposed to look.
“I’m sorry.” Her chin trembled and she clenched her jaw. She would not cry. She was not weak. “Just been a long day I guess.” Her fingernails pricked her palms as she held back emotion with the force of her fists.
“I’m not sorry, honey. I can’t think about anything but you. I was waiting on you to leave campus before I do just to be in your relative proximity, as lovesick as that makes me sound. I’ve thought of nothing but you since the last time I held you. Come here to me.” He settled in his chair and guided her into his lap. “Dr. Newsome is still in his office upstairs, just be mindful of that. We need to let him leave before we do.”
“But what about Matt?”
“Matt is delightfully involved in his first case of puppy love. He is so thoroughly consumed with Megan I feel certain he will have not only forgotten your name, but also that either of us were even here by the time he reaches his mother’s minivan. He did offer me some good advice while he was here, though.”
“What was that?”
“I tried to get a word or two in between his obsession with Megan. I mentioned I was struggling with working here and not getting to see my girlfriend as often as I’d like to. He used to respond to me rattling off struggles. I’d share a little, he’d share a lot kind of thing. This time, he quickly threw my own words back in my face so he could get back to Megan. Take everything moment by moment. It’s something I need to hear often. I’m thrilled I get a few moments with you right now.”
Holly nodded against him. “Me too, but I shouldn’t have come here. I know that. Do you have any idea how freaking good looking you are and how annoying that is?”
Dec’s chuckle eased her day. “I feel a little bit like I’m on trial for my appearance.”
“Sorry. It’s just you being Professor Sex is all I’ve heard about all damn day. You’re mine, but I can’t tell anyone that so I just have to sit and listen to other women talk about you like you’re a piece of prime rib. I want to throw them on the ground and tie them up calf-roping style.”
“Professor Sex, huh?” Dec sighed.
“Do not sound happy about that.”
“I’m not. I mean it’s ridiculously clichéd. That’s the best thing they could come up with for a professor that teaches Sexual Psychology? Come on.”
“Would you have preferred Dr. St. Jizz, or maybe Professor St. Clit, or how about Dr. Octopussy, something like that?”
“See, now those have merit. Far more creative than Professor Sex. However, you mixed your metaphors on Octopussy. You’d have to get rights from two franchises.”
Holly rolled her eyes.
“Please tell me you know where my loyalties lie, sweetheart. Other women mean absolutely nothing to me.”
“Everyone’s going to go hear you sing at Duffy’s Friday night. They all have plans for what they should do with you afterwards,” she continued, trying to explain why she was feeling a little out of sorts. “Some chick in my stats class just informed me that she wanted you to make her choke.”
Dec’s scowl did more for Holly’s self-worth than anything yet. “Well, I happen to have my own plans for after the gig at Duffy’s Friday night. Would you like to hear them, Ms. Camden?”
“Maybe.”
“I’d planned to go home as soon as we sing the final encore, race up to my bedroom where I’m praying you’ll be laying naked in my bed, and then I plan on completely ruining you for any other man. Fast and hard, then slow and reverent, worship your beautiful body, up against the walls, on the stairwell, tied to my bed, in my shower, over every flat surface of my house, and I don’t plan on stopping until Monday morning.”
He captured her soft, needy moan with his lips, keeping her quiet, setting her on fire. He nipped and drank at her mouth.
“Dec,” she managed as his hands roamed her body, never settling any one place until he landed on the top button of her blouse. He plundered her mouth at the sound of his name, taking possession of her tongue.
She gave herself over to him. To be owned was her only quest. This was why she’d come to his office. She should have known all along.
He worked through the buttons of her blouse with adept skill. His callused fingers explored until they’d popped the front clasp of her bra, and she arched into his seeking hands.
“I need you.” His low grunt sent a flashfire of desire throughout her.
“Yes,” she whimpered against the scruff of his five o’clock shadow.
Those perfect nipples, a flushed raspberry fire, stabbed against his palms, and Dec just didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t live without her. Moment by moment be damned. He was an addict. He would always be an addict and she was the most addictive thing he’d ever encountered. Only this time there was no crash, there was nothing but her love, her body, her laughter, her needs. He required it all. He wanted to bury himself so deeply inside of her she had no hope of understanding where he stopped and she began. He ne
eded her more than he needed to draw his next breath.
Desperate for her softness, he cupped her breasts and drew them together in his right hand. As she arched back in offering, he drew the turgid peeks into the heat of his mouth.
She rocked against his erection then maneuvered until she was straddling him, grinding against him while he nipped and sucked at her breasts.
He knew what she liked. He’d memorized every detail of her desires.
One hand wrapped around his neck and her other tunneled through his hair, her body begging for his. He scraped his teeth along the underswell of her right breast, and she whimpered out for more. The noise sated his soul and ignited his body.
Fixing his hand over her mouth, too far gone to stop himself, he lifted his head to stare her down. “Can you be quiet for me, baby? Be a good girl and let me have this. I need you.”
A quick nod led the roll of her body against him. Her eyes closed in submission as he began to suckle softly. With every draw, he sucked harder until he found her rhythm. His cock made itself known against the denim of their jeans. Her fingernails bit at his shoulders now as she pressed harder against him.
The tang of sweat gathered between her breasts drove him mad with longing. He was going to fuck her. Nothing short of her telling him to stop was going to keep him from her. When she realized he was trying to stand, she made quick work of pressing palms against his desk and presenting herself. The few seconds it took to work through his belt was too damn long. Frustration to have her seared through him, drawing his muscles taught like a guitar strung so tightly it would snap on the first strum. He pulled her back to him, rocking his strain against her ass desperate for relief. There were far too many layers between them. Skin. He needed her skin. Now.
His fingers worked down to the button of her jeans and finally his hand landed on the soft flesh of her abdomen. She wanted to know whom she belonged to, he sure as hell would show her.
Like a runaway train on a downward track, his hand dove in her panties, naughty little number, white lace g-strings with a pink bow at the top of the crack of her ass that said fuck me. Her favorite kind to wear. His favorite kind to see her in.
His pulse thundered in his head. His cock damn near severed the zipper of his trousers itself.
“Dec, please,” she begged.
“I said be quiet.” He returned his hand to her mouth and used the position to thrust against her.
The knock on the door shattered through them. He jerked backwards. Panic barreled through his chest. His heart refused him the next beat. Her eyes goggled as she frantically buttoned her jeans, fixed her bra, and smoothed her hair.
Pushing away remembrances of rabidly flushing dime bags, eight balls, and papers down the toilet while the police beat on his door, he buckled his belt and tried to think of some plausible reason why his student was standing in his office, flushed with kiss-swollen lips and her nipples so hard and tight they had to ache.
She buttoned her blouse, grabbed a binder out of her bag, and took the seat opposite the desk. Flipping it open, she grabbed a pencil from the cup on his desk.
Dec took his seat and prayed this would work. The only problem was the majority of his brain simply didn’t care. All he wanted was her.
“Come in,” he called.
Dr. Newsome was smiling pleasantly when he entered. “Ms. Camden, I’m so sorry to interrupt, dear.”
“It’s fine, Dr. Newsome,” her voice faltered. Newsome either didn’t notice or pretended that he hadn’t. “I just had a few questions about an upcoming paper. Dr. St. James was going over a few points I was unclear on. We were just finishing up.”
Oh, naughty girl, we are so not finished. Not ‘til we’re both spent.
The snap of her binder shutting reverberated through Dec’s chest.
“I was just leaving.”
You can leave, baby, but I’m coming after you. You can run, but you can’t hide from me.
“If you’re sure. I just need five minutes of Dr. St. James time. I owe him an apology. I do hope to see you at the Behavioral Sciences symposium. I’d like to extend you a personal invitation to sit at my table.”
The entire department had received an invitation via email that afternoon to a symposium on advances in Behavioral Psychology being held in none other than Singleton Auditorium in a few weeks.
“Thank you, Dr. Newsome. I’d be honored. I’ll see you there. Thank you for your help, Dr. St. James. I’ll check out those sites you suggested, and I’ll review Dr. Rogers work. I haven’t read it in a few years.”
Well, look at his little cowgirl, flustered and fidgeting, but competent none the less, saving his sorry ass. If she’s still that capable of thought, you aren’t taking care of her. Take more. She needs to be undone. His mind was having none of this, and he was helpless against the calls for her that evening.
Searching his brain for anything but longing, he landed on, “Pay particular attention to Kramer’s introduction. The bridge it offers between psychotherapy of the past and today is invaluable.”
“Yes, sir. I will.”
Oh, yes sir, you will, honey, and that won’t be the only yes sir I hear tonight.
When Holly made her escape, Dec negotiated with the universe as a whole. Let him manage one fucking conversation with his boss without outing them and then he’d have her all night long.
“Lovely girl, isn’t she?” Newsome gestured towards the door.
It took Dec two full breaths before any words other than you should see her in nothing but a g-string and those boots formed in his mind. “She works harder than any other student I teach.” There. That kind of worked.
“Yes, like we discussed, she’s very impressive.”
Dec offered a nod and nothing more lest he begin gushing about her rosebud lips, her lush ass, her long silky hair, or her tits.
“Dr. St. James, I’ve been avoiding you all week,” Newsome sighed.
Oh fuck, what was about to happen here? Dec tried to force more blood flow to the head on his shoulders.
“Avoiding what?” His heart couldn’t locate a steadying beat. No one knows what you were doing in here. Get it together.
“I owe you an apology. I’m terribly embarrassed. I admire you very much. The way you’ve taken bad situations and worked through them. The way you devoted your life to psychological studies. How hard you work. The way you used education to stay away from your addictions. I know how dreadfully difficult it must be, and I’d hoped my Olivia might see some of the same things in you I saw. To be truthful, I desperately want my little girl to move back home. I don’t care for those reckless pilots she prefers. Saturday night, I stuck my nose in where it doesn’t belong and I do beg your forgiveness.”
“Not a problem, sir. Word of caution, if I might?”
“Please,” Newsome took the seat Holly had occupied a minute before.
“Trying to keep the moth from the flame often times only makes them more determined.” Dec mentally called himself an asshole, offering up twisted reverse psychology to a man who’d been in the field three decades longer than he had.
Newsome laughed genuinely. “I know, but a father has to try. You’ll understand when you settle down and have children.”
Children? The foreign concept did nothing to quell the rampant desire still surging through his veins. Kids came after sex and all he wanted right then was the first part.
“I’m really not looking to get back in a relationship any time soon.”
“Point taken. No more fix ups.” Newsome offered him a kind smile, one he most certainly did not deserve. “We’ve been up here all day. Let me make up for my faux pas Saturday night, and buy you a meal.”
“Thank you, sir, but I can’t go out this evening. I have something that requires my full attention at home. Rain check perhaps?”
“Certainly, and thank you for your kindness. I’ll see you in the morning Dr. St. James.”
Dec shoved a few papers in his briefcase as Newsome s
aw himself out. When the door closed, he grabbed his phone to text Holly.
Go to my house. The garage key code is 1579. Let yourself in. When I get there, you should be in my bed and ready for me. Leave your panties on. Take everything else off. I plan to tear them off of you. Don’t make me wait.
Her responding text made him vibrate with urgency. Yes, sir.
He flew out of his office, making it to his bike in record time. Using the bike lane, he cut around an obnoxiously yellow Scion that pulled out in front of him.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Since Holly was already half way to Dec’s home, it was convenient he’d sent her the garage key code. Reckless abandon whipped through her. She didn’t give a damn anymore. She needed him. Her pulse timed itself to the rapid thrum of her tires on the road.
Just a few more miles. She pressed the accelerator harder. Her entire body was a livewire, raw and desperate.
Breathless, she leapt out of the truck, keyed in the code, and pulled in. Shutting down the motor, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart in frantic rhythm. Racing through the house, she unbuttoned her blouse as she clambered up the stairs and toed off her boots. Her jeans made a soft swoosh as they landed on his carpet. The slight noise shocked her overexposed senses in the absence of any other sound.
Flinging her bra away, she climbed in his unmade bed and stretched out. The wet lace of her panties made her raw. Inhaling deeply, she let the scents of Declan fill her lungs as the soft sheets cooled her overly-sensitive skin.
The lurch of the single-bay garage door jolted through her. He must’ve flown. The slip of the opening door sent a shock through her nervous system. Suddenly, a speaker she’d never noticed in the bedroom clicked on.
She sat up, searching for Dec. The opening lyrics to Chains filled the room. A shiver worked up her spine. Her heart double-timed the backbeat. Where was he?
His entire body dominated the doorway, backlit by the moon from the picture window in the hall. Craving desire pulsed in the air between them. His eyes ate her up with a hunger that bordered possession. His hands landed on his belt. She watched as he slowly unbuckled the strap of leather, not certain what he was about to do. She’d never seen him quite like this. Savagery burned in his eyes. Every tensed muscle in his body was set to ravage.
