You make me hard. Ian cleared his throat. “Your friend seems into it.”
“He is. He wanted to see if I could get into it, too.” She sipped her drink, took a larger gulp and then another.
They stepped out through the front door, ignoring the interested looks and grasping hands. The night air was cool on Ian’s face. As soon as the door closed behind them, the droning hum of voices disappeared. It could have been just the two of them on any suburban street, even Tam’s, with the quietly winking stars above, the scent of night-blooming flowers from the garden, and the comforting silence.
Ian was buzzed enough to admit to missing Tam, even enough to admit it to her face. But he didn’t. He drew in a deep breath of Tam-scented air. “Feel like taking a walk?”
“Sure.”
He took a deep swallow of his beer before putting the bottle between stalks of daffodils and the stone walkway. The last thing he wanted to do was get arrested for drinking alcohol on the street. Tam didn’t seem to care. She took another big sip of her drink as they strolled down the walk. The sound of her ridiculous heels was loud on the concrete sidewalk, a porno soundtrack to the twitch of her ass and the exaggerated sway of her hips.
Tam sucked her teeth. “This goddamn skirt.” She pulled down at the offending garment. “I don’t even know how people find this shit sexy.”
Ian smiled. Plucking at the tiny piece of leather, she seemed once again like the alluring creature he met two months ago. But he knew she wasn’t. Not really. Tam was fucking someone else. Someone who didn’t even value her enough to keep her for himself.
“Are you satisfied with your choice?” he asked.
Tam looked at him but didn’t say anything. She knew exactly what he was talking about.
“I miss you,” she said finally, curling her mouth around the edge of the plastic cup containing her drink.
“I miss you, too.”
Their meandering footsteps took them to a playground perched safely in the middle of the neighborhood’s tiny park. Tam sat on the swing and anchored her drink deep in the sand before grasping with both hands the metal chain suspending the seat of the swing. Ian stood nearby with his hands in his pockets and watched her pump herself in the swing. The skirt rode all the way up to the tops of her thighs, revealing her pale blue panties.
Who else wore sensible panties to a sex party?
He suddenly wanted to drop to his knees in front of her and lick that blue cotton until it was soaking wet inside and out. Ian adjusted his sneakered feet in the sand and cleared his throat.
“Because of you”—she said matter-of-factly, her earrings fluttering in the breeze with each pass of the swing through the air—“I can’t enjoy other men.”
“I can’t do anything with that.” Ian murmured. “You’re not making too much sense to me right now.”
“Yeah, that’s my problem, too.”
She seemed far away and emotionally remote as she swung back and forth in the silence. But she was closer to him now than she had been in the past few weeks, and so he savored her presence. He wanted more. Much more.
If he was drunk enough he would have asked her to suck him off one last time. To take out his already hard dick and cover it with kisses, lick its seeping head, and take him deep into her mouth. And she’d probably do it, too, in her own way, working his dick until he came and then swallowing every ounce of his juice. She’d lick her lips, catlike and sweet, and ask if he had any more cream. But he would have to shake his head because it was his turn to sate a long-denied hunger.
This hunger would lead him to sniff her pussy, to slide off her heaven-colored panties and lick the salty musk of her and dive deeply inside her with his tongue to imprint her smell all over his face. If he asked nicely enough, she would grasp the back of his head like she used to, she’d buck against his face while he fucked her with his tongue and pounded her clit with his nose. She’d come and wail and shower his mouth with quick squeezing kisses from her pussy lips.
But Ian wasn’t drunk enough for that. He was aware enough to know that he would hate her and himself afterward if anything happened between them.
“You ready to go back?” he asked.
They walked back to the house in silence. It was a particular kind of torture, being so close to her, smelling her, knowing that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, yet not being able to have her. Ian rotated his shoulders to loosen the tightness in his chest.
As they approached the house, a couple walked down the driveway toward them.
“Party over?” Ian asked.
“Oh, no, honey,” the more slender of the two men said. “Things are just starting to get interesting.”
Ian could only imagine what other “interesting” things could happen in that house tonight.
“Have fun,” the two men chorused as they ambled down the path, holding hands.
“I bet Garrett is right in the middle of whatever that is,” Tam said, wrinkling her nose.
“I’m assuming you’ll want to jump right in there with him.”
“That’s not a good assumption to make,” she said.
He held open the front door for Tam, and, almost against his will, his eyes dropped down to the rocking bridge the leather of the skirt made between her ass cheeks.
Maybe there’s some appeal to this getup after all.
Stale air from inside the house blasted Ian in the face as soon as he stepped inside. The place reeked of sex. The hour or so they had been gone had cleared Ian’s senses, but now he felt dirty again. He wanted to pull Tam out of there, tell her to go home to her daughter and her rosemary-scented bed.
A man emerged out of the morass of bodies to grasp Tam’s arm. “I was looking for you.”
She seemed surprised to see him. Ian pulled the door closed behind him and turned to leave, but Tam tugged at his hand. He stayed. Her boyfriend looked like he was high, with his unnaturally bright eyes, too wide smile, and blood-flushed lips.
“Why?” Tam asked him. “You were obviously having a good time.”
“Are you jealous?” The man chuckled like he’d just made a good joke. “I see you found somebody you like.” His eyes casually appraised Ian. “You look familiar. I didn’t know Tamarind liked the pretty boy type.” He chuckled again. “No offense.” He offered his hand to shake. “The name is Garrett.”
Ian took it and immediately wanted to wipe his off. The man’s hand was damp. Tam slowly released his other hand. This was what she had given Ian up for? He turned deliberately to the woman who still owned his heart.
“Enjoy the rest of the party,” he said to her. “I’m heading home.”
She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again. “It was good seeing you,” she finally said.
Ian nodded once and then walked off to get his friends. This “party” was over. After texting Derrick, he found Rashawn in an upper-level bedroom playing the voyeur to an enthusiastic orgy on the shag-carpeted floor. He looked up when Ian walked into the room.
“Is that your ready-to-go face?” Rashawn asked.
“Yup.”
“No prob. Derrick is downstairs getting to know that cute little bartender a little bit better. I think he’s just killing time.”
Ian nodded and didn’t bother to let Rashawn know he’d already talked to Derrick. “Let’s go.”
Rashawn stood up and followed him from the room.
“I saw you with that woman,” Derrick said to Ian as soon as they found him.
Fuck. Ian was not in the mood to talk about this.
They walked out of the house, with Rashawn looking at them both. “What happened?”
The Range Rover chirped as Derrick opened the doors with the remote. “He was cuddling up at the bar with that chick who stole his balls.”
Rashawn looked at Ian. “No shit?”
“I think you two just arrange to bump into each other in public for drama.” Derrick tossed the words over his shoulder as he started the truck.
> “Fuck you.”
“Don’t look at me for that, Professor. I know she’s the one you want.”
Rashawn chuckled and fell deeper into his sprawl in the corner of the truck. Ian halfheartedly punched Derrick in the shoulder. His friend was right. Tam was the one he wanted. And, right now, he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“Just take me home,” he said.
Chapter 11
She smelled like sunlight and sex. Grass stains marked the crinkled white of her skirt that they were laying on. Her face was rapture in the breeze, her lips parted and wet as he slid easily inside her cunt, moving in a nearly frictionless rhythm. She was incredibly wet. He could feel the sun on his back, its heat trailing each muscle, sinking into the sleek flesh of his ass as he moved inside Tam.
Her pleasure was absolute. It was tied unbreakably to his, and he was all she wanted. She called out his name and smiled, rising up in her dream orgasm to fling her arms around his neck and clutch him tighter. Her pussy swallowed his aching dick. His body felt full. He was going to come. Ian opened his mouth. An alarm sounded, discordant and loud, jerking him out of his dream.
“Fuck!” He turned over and slapped at the inconvenient alarm. Or, at least, he tried to, but a heavy weight pinned him to the bed. It smelled like sunlight and sex.
“Do you want me to turn that off for you?”
He lay back against the sheets, drinking in the vision in his bed.
“Sure.”
Tam stretched across him, her bare body, breasts, belly, thighs elongated in the sun toward his phone. Then the alarm was off, its shrieking silenced, leaving only the sounds of their quiet breathing. She had him trapped between her thighs and under the steaming heat of her pussy. His dick was hard and stood up between them, pre-cum glistening. She didn’t touch him.
“I don’t want anybody else,” she said. Before Ian could speak, she put a finger to his lips. “Just let me finish, OK?”
He nodded.
“For a long time now I’ve known I wanted you. But I had some crazy ideas about having the freedom to fuck whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted. When I saw you the other night, I finally had to put the bullshit aside.”
Ian knew he should have been surprised, maybe even angry, at her presumption to barge into his house the morning after they’d met at the party and slip into his bed. But all he felt was relief.
“What about your rich boyfriend?”
“Garrett isn’t my boyfriend. For a long time, he was just convenient.”
“And now?”
“And now he’s not. If you still want me, there’s only you. Is that OK?”
It was. He nodded, swallowing thickly, and she fell into him, drowning him in her scent and in the skimming heat of her hands.
“Please,” she whispered, moving up and over him. “Make love to me.” She bit his jaw, kissed his mouth, raked her nails down his chest.
Pleasure shudder through Ian. He lay under her, entranced. Tam sheathed him in her moist heat, rising up like a siren on the surf, her back arched and her mouth wet and open, to lure him once again beneath her waves. And, this time, he wasn’t dreaming.
**Thank You**
Thank you so much for reading Propositioning the Professor! If you enjoyed it, please take the time to write a starred review online – it doesn’t have to be a long one – and share your experience with a friend or three.
To find me on the interwebs, go to my website www.LindsayEvansWrites.com, my Facebook, or Twitter pages. You can even use old-fashioned email at [email protected].
About the Author
Jamaican-born Lindsay Evans currently lives and writes in Atlanta, GA. A writer of sensual love stories and decadent erotica, she loves good food and romance and would happily travel to the ends of the earth for both. Her novel, Bare Pleasures, is now available. Find out more at LindsayEvansWrites.com.
Now Available
Professional Lovers Series
Seducing the Stripper
Luring the Lawyer
Miami Strong Series
Bare Pleasures
Affair of Pleasure
Linked Novels
Untamed Love
Snowy Mountain Nights
Sultry Pleasure
Pleasure under the Sun
Dim the Lights (novella collection)
An Excerpt from Luring the Lawyer
The first woman Derrick ever loved left him for his sister. Well, that wasn’t quite the way it went, but that was how he liked to think of it. He turned their wedding invitation over in his hands, smiling despite the ache of sadness throbbing in the middle of his chest.
Victoria Jackson had been perfect for him in every way— professional, intelligent, beautifully put together, not to mention sexy as hell. They met at the University of Miami during his last year of college and her fourth year as a PhD candidate. Because of her, he stayed at UM to get his law degree. He even did his clerkship in Miami and took a job in his hometown despite the better offers in New York and Boston.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there, baby?”
Derrick looked toward the sound of his girlfriend’s voice but felt Trish slide her arms around him before he could see her, teasing his nose with her light citrus perfume. He put the invitation facedown on the window seat. Beyond the upstairs window of his study, the artificial lake glimmered under the late Saturday morning sun.
“A case,” he said. “Nothing serious.”
The window’s glass mocked him with a glimpse of his lying face—eyes deliberately bland, his mouth, framed by his neatly trimmed goatee, smiling.
“It doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing.”
“I guess you better come closer, then.”
He reached around for her, tugging her forward and down to straddle his lap in the oversized leather chair. With a quick motion, he pushed the armrests down to be level with the seat so she could get even closer and be more comfortable. Glimmering black in the light, her straightened hair swung forward along her jaw, framing her almond eyes set against teak skin, the smiling mouth.
“You’re right,” she murmured. “This is better.”
She’d been drinking hot chocolate, and the scent of it wafted from her parted lips, brushing over his mouth in a warm stream.
“Did you leave me any of that hot chocolate?” His hands fell to her hips.
“In the kitchen.”
Derrick pitched his voice low, seductive. “What if I want what you’ve already had?”
“Then you have to come and get it.” Her mouth hovered near his.
He chuckled, taking her up on her invitation. The taste of chocolate was still rich on her tongue, vibrant and dark but not as interesting as her own flavor. Her tongue danced with his, licked his teeth, daintily tasted until his dick rose hard between them and she moaned very softly, moving her hips against him. “I thought you had a meeting?” he asked, his hands already lifting her dress out of the way.
“You thought wrong. Right now”—she pulled down the top of her dress, baring her small breasts to his gaze and to his mouth— “the only meeting I’m interested in is this one.”
Copyright © 2016 by Fiona Lewis
A version of this novella was published as “Pure Pleasure” by Kensington Books in 2007.
This is a work of fiction. The characters and events described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or to living persons alive or dead. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher except for brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.
Cover design: Red Raven Book Design
&nb
sp;
Propositioning the Professor (Professional Lovers Series Book 2) Page 10
