Saving Grace: A bad-boy virgin romance

by Savannah Skye

  “Grace, could you please see me before you leave?” he has the nerve to question in front of the class full of other students. “I have some notes for you.”

  I look his way and swallow the lump in my throat. “Okay,” I mumble under my breath as I make my way down the aisle of desks.

  My heart hammers against my chest, beating faster and harder with every step I take towards him until I’m standing at the desk in the front of the room. Interesting enough, I’ve had quite a few dreams that begin and end at this very desk. Now, as I look at him, every single one of those dreams rushes into my mind in graphic detail and I know my face is red.

  He cocks his head at me as the last of the students exit through the white door at the front of the room. When nobody is left standing here but us, he reaches for the door, pulls it shut and locks it.

  The click ricochets through my head like a gunshot. Blood rushes to my extremities and my nipples stiffen, pressing against my lacy bra. I stand frozen as he approaches me. Don’t even flinch as he pushes me back against the wall with a shove. Barely even squirm when he cups one strong hand over the denim stretched between my thighs.

  If I move, he might stop again. Yeah, I want to get my head together before we have some heart to heart, but I’ve never been so horny in my life and the need to come is like a hunger I can’t seem to sate without Jack.

  “Do you know what you did to me last night?” he demands, his voice a low growl.

  My chest heaves as our eyes tangle with each other’s. I’m scared, but also incredibly turned on. Just a few seconds ago, he was so calm and professor-like. Then suddenly, it’s like a switch was flipped, and he’s become an apex predator; dangerous, sexy, and totally in control.

  I answer his inquiry with a gentle shake of my head.

  “Let me explain it to you.” He caresses me through my jeans, somehow lighting a fuse without actually feeling his flesh upon my own. Maybe it’s his breath, hot like fire burning against my neck. “Again, you teased me with that tight little body, and those needy eyes and those plump lips to the point that I was forced to jerk off. You know what I was thinking about while I was pumping my cock?”

  I clear my throat, meaning to verbalize my thoughts, but once again, I merely shake my head a defiant no. I have a pretty good idea though. It’s not like I’m stupid. More like I feel like he’s turning me inside out and my body is reacting to his touch in ways I didn’t know were quite possible. I’m terrified of looking like an inexperienced fool and am using all my willpower to merely stay afloat.

  “I thought about my cock inside of you.” He drops his head over my shoulder to whisper in my ear, “Thought about taking you from behind, and on your back. Thought about you riding me. About how sweet and tight that pussy would be.”

  I force my eyes closed, squinting. Trying anything to maintain my grip on this world, but everything’s a damn blur. My teeth sink into my lip as I try to force away the moans that are trying to escape my throat.

  His words are so profane. The odds, no matter how slim, that someone could walk in and catch us in the act. The inappropriateness of what’s happening. It’s a combustible combination that threatens to send me over the edge, each and every little piece of the puzzle stoking the flames of fire. It makes it even hotter. Despite my usually timid personality, I feel a girl I never knew existed waking up from within me, like maybe it’s not just an act.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a stifled cry as his busy hand increases the speed and pressure and he grinds his palm against me through my jeans. My nipples ache and the pressure builds low in my belly, stretching and spreading.

  Jesus…I’m on the verge of coming—which has never happened with anyone other than myself.

  “That’s it. Yes…You’re going to come for me, Grace.” He nibbles gently on the lobe of my ear.

  My body reacts, slightly panicked at how quick it’s happening…at how powerful it feels. I’m trying to steal some space back from him, but he’s too strong. He holds me firmly in place as he races me towards the edge of the cliff. All the worry fades away as I realize there’s no going back.

  “Please,” I whimper, arching my hips against his hand now, wishing we were naked. Wishing I could close my fingers over his cock and—

  “You’re going to come just like I envisioned it last night after you left me with a horrendous case of blue balls.” His voice is raspy now, huskier too. “Come for me, Grace. That’s a good girl…yeah.”

  The bell for the next period blares from above, sending a ringing sensation through my ears. It’s only when I let out a low scream that I realize the ringing isn’t because of the bell at all.

  It’s because I shatter from the inside, coming in my jeans as he continues to caress me through my orgasm. My body contorts as I ride the waves of release, my eyes forced shut as I slide against the wall, jerking and quivering, pleasure zipping through every cell.

  I’m still shuddering with aftershocks when I open my eyes again a minute later. He’s staring at me intently, his gaze lasering into mine. And for the briefest of moments, I consider the insane possibility that he could take me right here, right now…does he not know?

  But any hope of that is thrown out the window when he bends low and nips his teeth against my bottom lip before pulling his hand away.

  “Time for your next class, Grace.” He steps away from me and unlocks the door just in time for students to begin trickling in.

  I’m still slightly dizzy. I’m also in a state of shock as I quickly rush past him to exit the classroom. My legs are weak and shaky, so I stay as close to the wall as possible as I make my way down the long corridor. And just like when I was heading to class, I’m sure that everyone can see the guilt written all over my face as if I’ve been brandished with the scarlet letter. But as much as I know I should feel shame, all I feel is high.

  I want more from him. Hell, I might even need more from him.

  Regardless, I’m also left with a distinct feeling that I was definitely right. There’s way more than meets the eye when it comes to Professor Ridley.

  And worse? I’m setting myself up for a world of hurt.

  8

  Jack

  It smells like a damn factory out here. The air as dirty as it is smoggy, clouds hanging low in the night sky. Of all places Hank could suggest we meet, of course he’d choose the shadiest side of the city. A train can be heard in the near distance, speeding down the tracks and heading out of the city and into the wastelands, as I like to call them.

  I glance at my watch and mutter to myself. When you’re a man who prides himself on always being on time, it’s more than a little aggravating when everyone in the world seems to run on a different clock.

  I cross my arms as I await Hank. He’s dug up some information on Grace and I’m dying to dive into her story and figure out what the hell she’s up to.

  Ever since last night at the bar, and our subsequent encounter earlier today, I can’t stop thinking about her and what happened. Can’t stop thinking about the way she looked at me as she came on my hand. Didn’t even have to get into her pants to make her squirm and break, and I can hardly contain my excitement at finally burying myself balls deep inside her hot pussy.

  As much as I’d like to pretend what’s happened between us is a simple case of keeping my friends close and my enemies closer, I have to admit that the reason I had her stay after class was because she was all I could think about during class. She’s the reason why I borrowed a lecture from a colleague because I couldn’t be bothered to prepare my own.

  If I had gone with my own outline, I’m not sure I could have contained myself in front of all those students. I may have just about ended up rambling about her sweet pussy for everyone to hear.

  And that wouldn’t be good for anyone.

  Not for me. Definitely not for her.

  “God dammit,” I curse under my breath as I palm my aching cock through my jeans. It wouldn’t be a stretch of the truth to say
that I’ve had a perpetual hard on for the last damn week, all because of that one girl. I’m not the kind of guy to linger around, stuck on one woman at a time. But she’s all I can think about. She’s all I can eat and breathe.

  I make myself a mental vow that before I bust Grace first-hand for doing whatever dirty dealings she’s involved in, that I’m going to get into that pussy because she’s ruining me mentally for any other woman.

  A pair of headlights round the corner of the factory, the high beams just about blinding me. I shield my eyes for cover until the lights flicker off. The front door of a black SUV is thrown open just before a pair of boots scrunch against the gravel.

  Hank carries a manila folder in one hand as he paces towards me, his boots kicking gravel along the way until he meets me at the side of the building. He’s a shorter guy, more lean than he is muscular, with a jean jacket draped over a basic black tee shirt and dark jeans. His hair is slicked back like he’s a greaser from the fifties.

  No wonder he’s late. He probably had to use up an entire bottle of gel to get that look.

  “You’re fifteen minutes late,” I say to him and rip the folder from his hands as he reaches me. “And I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

  He chuckles. “Traffic was terrible.”

  “Stop.” I stare him down. “We both have to take the same highway to get here and you want to know the funniest thing?”

  “That depends,” he says flatly. “Is it actually funny?”

  “There was hardly another car on the road when I made my way here twenty minutes ago.”

  “I decided to take the scenic route.”

  “Now, that’s funny.” I shake my head as I open the folder and take a quick glance at the contents inside. It’s too dark to be able to read the documents properly, so I turn to Hank to get the nutshell version. “So what did you find?”

  “Everything you claim she told you seems to be true.” He shrugs with apathy as he digs to retrieve a pack of cigarettes from his jeans. He pulls a cig from the pack, places it between dry lips and offers the pack to me.

  “If I’m going to die young, it’s going to be because I trusted the wrong person.”

  “Suit yourself.” He flips open a zippo and lights the end of his cigarette, the cherry burning bright in the darkness. “Anyways, her backstory checks out. Where she’s from, where she went to school, all the little details you wanted me to verify.”

  I eye him suspiciously as he takes a long drag. “Any boyfriends?”

  “There’re only three exes from what I can tell. I’m looking into all of them, but as far as I can see, she’s squeaky clean.” He turns to me with a grim smirk etched across his lips. “You know what they say about clean girls?”

  “No.” I roll my eyes. “What?”

  “They say that you should stay the hell away from them.”

  I shoot him a glare before ripping his cigarette out of his mouth and grinding it into the rocks beneath us. “I like you too much to watch you kill yourself with those things, so do that when I leave. And she’s the one coming after me, just so we’re clear.”

  He throws his hands in the air, surrendering. “My job isn’t to ask questions of you. My job is about finding out the truth about them.”

  “I don’t know.” I shake my head and sigh, push my tongue against my inner cheek. “Her record might be clean, but is it too clean?” I look to him. “That’s a rhetorical question, by the way.”

  He points to the folder in my hands. “There’s a lot of information in there. I’d suggest you go home and double-check everything yourself, see if anything pops for you. If you have any questions, you can obviously call me. And in the meantime, I’ll continue digging for answers.”

  “Call me if anything comes up.”

  He offers me a silent nod before turning on his feet to head back to his car.

  “One more thing, Hank,” I call out.

  He cranes his head over his shoulder as he comes to a standstill in front of his car. “Yeah?”

  “Take a look at her finances, would you? See if she has any big debts.”

  He nods again. “Thinking she might be working for someone to pay off a debt?”

  “Maybe.” I shrug. “Maybe not. I’m just cautious, you know? If she’s involved in something, maybe it’s not something she wants to do, but something she has to do.”

  “If there’s anything out there that suggests she’s not who she claims to be, trust that I’ll find out.”

  “I know you will,” I say. “That’s why I pay you the big bucks.”

  “Make sure you add in a dollar bonus for that cigarette you just made me waste.” He offers me one final wide grin before slipping back into his car and pulling away, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more.

  And they’re fucking wild. My head is racing like a hamster on a wheel. It’s probably wishful thinking to believe she’s not doing this for her own gain. It’s time to face the facts. I like this girl and that needs to stop. Regular girls with crushes don’t hide behind shrubs or sneak into bars to spy on their professors.

  An hour later, I’m propped up in bed with the folder in my lap. I read through Grace’s files and damn if Hank doesn’t have it right. Not a single hint of anything suspicious. It would appear she’s clean as a whistle so far, but I’m just waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.

  I set her file onto the nightstand and pick up another folder, a file on one Donny Carmichael. Donny’s a notorious drug runner and pimp working the city center, and unbeknownst to him, he’s my next target. Same son of a bitch who I’d been following when Grace was following me.

  This is why I never give out meaningful homework in my courses, because on top of all the research and recon I’m forced to do on a nightly basis, there’s no way I could spare enough time to correct college papers on the regular.

  I try to focus my thoughts on Donny, but it’s a no go. My mind is too lost elsewhere, somewhere between the valley of Grace’s perky breasts and warm cunt. I drop Donny’s file on top of Grace’s and make a note to read through his file in the morning.

  At this point, I’m drowning in mental notes when all I want to be drowning in is Grace’s pussy.

  I flip off the light on the nightstand and roll onto my back. She’s really going to be the death of me. At this rate, I should pick up smoking, because it’s not like I have long left to live. One more night of blue balls and I’ll be buried six feet deep, and all this work I have left to do to get this city back in order will be lost. There’s got to be a way to get my head back in the game and do what I have to do.

  When I finally go to sleep, I don’t dream of criminals, though. I dream of little Grace Fucking Farrow coming on my hand.

  9

  Grace

  “Get your whore ass up.” Willow’s voice rips me out of a dead sleep.

  My eyes bolt open, instantly alarmed at the intruder in my bedroom. With the sleep still in my eyes, she looks akin to a Medusa.

  “I made you breakfast,” she says with a grin. “Green eggs and ham, now get your ass up because I don’t have all day.”

  She knows I’m not much of a breakfast person, especially when I’ve just woken up, but I don’t have the heart—or the nerve—to tell her no. I clumsily climb out of bed, brushing the blankets off my body as my feet land on cold hardwood floors.

  When I peel open my bedroom door, I find Willow standing at the kitchen stove with a spatula in hand.

  “How cute,” she says, her eyes checking me up and down, taking notice of the pink and white onesie I had climbed into before tucking myself away for the night. “You look like a damn toddler.”

  “And you look like a monster.”

  “I’ve been busy.” She tosses me a glance over her shoulder before turning back to the stove and tossing three pancakes onto a plate. She spins around and slides a plate over to me as I take a seat at the small table big enough for two.

  “Yeah,” I say flatly. “Are you auditioning to
be somebody’s wife?”

  “That’s insulting, Grace.” She takes a seat across from me and palms a fork in her hands. “I’m an independent modern woman and the last thing I’ll be worrying about until the day I turn forty-three is changing my last name.” She pours a not-so-modest amount of syrup on top of the mountain of pancakes before her and then passes me the bottle. “As if it’s any of your business, I was also on a date last night as well as the night before so I haven’t yet gotten to hear about all the misdeeds that followed your embarrassing game of I-spy role play.”

  I let out an obnoxious yawn, stretching my arms out over my head for emphasis. “I’m really tired.”

  And, also, if I say it out loud I might just spontaneously combust.

  “Really now?” She shoves a forkful of maple pancake fluff into her mouth, and then continues to talk as she chews. “He must have really revved your engine if you’re still exhausted two days later.”

  “Yeah, he revved my engine all right.”

  “Oh my god,” she exclaims deadpan, betraying the wild look in her eyes. She drops her fork into the mountain of syrup on her pancakes. “Please tell me you did not embarrass yourself because I cannot stomach the thought. If you just let me show you what to do, you can save yourself the humil—”

  “Stop,” I command her and lean slightly across the table. “Nothing happened that night.” I slice my hand through the air in frustration, feeling panic creep up in my chest. “Well, something happened. Lots happened, but it was the next day when I saw him again in class that things really escalated.”

  “That dirty bastard,” she whispers across the table, her eyes eager for more information. “Every time I go to my psychology class in that room I’m going to see Jack Ridley bending you over that desk.”

  “That didn’t happen.” I shake my head and push myself back in my chair.

  She too throws herself back in her chair. “Guh, you didn’t even fuck him? You’re a terrible whore,” she accuses me. “And to think I made you breakfast? Have I taught you nothing, Grasshopper?”