Tempting the Best Man

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Tempting the Best Man Page 6

by Tanya Michaels


  “Complaining?”

  “Hell, no. Dangerous women are my favorite kind.” As of right now.

  Whatever response she meant to make faded as she caught sight of the servers approaching with the second course. They set pies down in the center of each table.

  Daniel was surprised at the sugar and cinnamon dusting the top of the pastries. “Seems pretty early in the meal for dessert.”

  She grinned. “My kind of place. Dessert early and often, I say.”

  But as he tried his first bite, he realized that it wasn’t really a dessert. It was a savory chicken pie in a light, flaky dough, the sweet notes an odd but intriguing contrast.

  “Not what I expected,” Mia said, echoing his thoughts.

  “Disappointed?” The woman did love her desserts.

  “No.” She met his eyes. “Sometimes the best things turn out to be quite different than what you were expecting. I like surprises.”

  A week ago, Daniel would have said he did not. But Mia had changed that. The chemistry between them was intense, different from anything he’d experienced before, and he couldn’t safely predict where it would lead. But he couldn’t wait to find out.

  * * *

  WHEN BEX’S MAID of honor laughingly grabbed Mia’s hand and tugged her onto the floor, where one of the restaurant’s belly dancers was giving an impromptu lesson, Mia went willingly. Not just because she wanted to be a good sport for Bex and Eli, but because she was restless. Fidgety from an hour and a half of sitting next to Daniel, overwhelmed by his unique brand of seduction.

  Leave it to a lit professor to use his words so effectively. Unlike some of her past dates, Daniel hadn’t jumped straight to a physical onslaught. He wooed her with that deep voice. She almost envied the students who got to listen to him for an hour at a time, wondering how many of them harbored “Hot for Teacher” crushes.

  As much as she loved Daniel’s voice, what she loved most was the gravelly growl that crept into his tone, the one that said he was struggling to keep control of himself. He’s not alone. Did he know how wet she was after ninety minutes of banter and innuendo and sensual promises about what they would do to each other in the very near future?

  A woman to her left jostled her, and Mia tried to return her concentration to the beginner belly-dancing moves being demonstrated. But how could she focus when she could feel Daniel’s hot, hungry gaze on her? Suddenly, she wasn’t part of a giggling group of women sharing a moment of camaraderie; his palpable lust isolated her. She was a dancer performing for an audience of one. She rolled her hips for him, slowing her arm movements to a sinuous stretch. He leaned forward, expression so intent that she almost faltered. It was difficult to be graceful with thick need running through her veins.

  As Mia returned to the table, the waitstaff was clearing away the last of the plates. Which meant it was time to go. Now what? She didn’t think she’d make it through the night without Daniel inside her. But she had mixed feelings about inviting him into her apartment. After so many pent-up fantasies, she wasn’t sure she could pull herself away from him before dawn, and she needed a decent night’s sleep. Tomorrow was Rebekah’s perfect day, and it was Mia’s job to insure that perfection.

  Daniel helped her into her coat, then laced his fingers through hers. “I can’t invite you back to my place—Eli’s bunking there tonight—but I’m not ready to say goodbye yet. What about you?”

  She shook her head mutely.

  He rubbed a thumb over the heel of her palm, gliding down to the pulse point in her wrist, the caress making her warm and tingly. She’d teased him before about old-fashioned gallantry, but who knew there was an art to hand-holding? He made it a sexy prelude, and she almost couldn’t breathe past her hunger to feel his caresses everywhere else.

  When they said good-night to Eli and Bex at the door, Daniel double-checked that his friend had his spare key. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “I’ll be back later. Mia and I just wanted to visit the campus first. For nostalgia’s sake.”

  She waited until they’d stepped outside to ask, “We wanted to visit the campus?” That was news to her, but she didn’t care where they went.

  “It seemed like a good idea,” he said, his breath a visible puff in the cold air. “Beautiful night for a walk.”

  “It’s freezing.”

  “It’s invigorating.” He tugged her against his side. “Besides, I promise to keep you warm.”

  And just like that, meandering across campus on a chilly January night seemed like a brilliant plan. “Deal.”

  As he started the car, he asked, “Have you been back to the college since graduating?”

  She shook her head. “Launching my company has kept me crazy-busy, and there was never any real reason to.” Did she have a reason now? The thought of visiting him sometime was pleasant. Maybe in the spring, when the weather was nice, she could stop by with a picnic lunch and—In the spring? She did a double take at her assumption that she’d be in a visiting mood months from now. Until tonight, she and Daniel had barely even made it through a single evening without things going sideways...and the night wasn’t over yet. Bex and Eli’s wedding had thrown them together, but only for the moment. So enjoy the moment.

  When the clock tower at the center of campus came into view, she was surprised by an unexpected pull of nostalgia. “I wish I’d...been in a better mood when I went to college.”

  “What, you registered for the wrong classes because you were cranky that day?”

  Cranky was a mild word for it. “I was angry at my parents when I moved out. My dad, mostly. We fought most of my senior year.” It seemed like too much of a downer to tell Daniel about the divorced man she used to babysit for and how he’d made a pass at—No, assaulted her. She refused to downplay it the way her parents had when she’d gone to them, scared and outraged, needing some kind of justice. Some kind of assurance that the actions of a drunken man twice her age weren’t her fault.

  “Anyway.” She looked out the window, hoping she sounded appropriately nonchalant about the distant past. “I left home with a chip on my shoulder, and I let it color my college experience.” Then again, college had also been where she’d laid the foundation for her future and joined the intern program that ultimately led to her doing what she loved. “But it wasn’t all bad.”

  “Of course not. You were lucky enough to meet me.”

  She laughed, her pensive mood dispelled. “The highlight of my university years,” she deadpanned.

  They’d reached a gated faculty parking lot, and Daniel rolled down his window to swipe the ID card that had been hanging from his rearview mirror. “For me, college was an escape.”

  “From your family?”

  “From attention.”

  She snorted indelicately. “Oh, please. Mr. I-have-an-answer-for-every-question Teacher’s Pet? You sought out plenty of attention.”

  “Getting noticed because you can list the conflicting use of storms in Shakespeare’s plays is a lot different than being noticed because you’re a Keegan.” After a moment he added, “I’ve long since realized that, contrary to my mother’s paranoia, the entire world is not watching us like we’re the Kennedys or the royal family. But in the community where I was raised, it felt true. My family was at the center of everything, and I left with an overdeveloped sense of importance.”

  “Guess that explains why you were such a pompous ass.”

  He flashed her a quick grin as he turned into a parking space. “While you were a ray of sweet-natured sunshine.”

  “I can be sweet when I want to be.” Possibly.

  “Ha!” He opened his door. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  You and me both. “Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt.” The amusement was gone from his voice, replaced by...admirati
on? Wistfulness?

  She climbed out of the car. “For the record, you are also full of surprises, Professor. The dirty talk at the restaurant, for instance.” She felt almost shy bringing it up, which was ridiculous, given her often shocking vocabulary. He hadn’t even been vulgar, just...specific. “That caught me off guard.”

  “Me, too,” he admitted. His smile bordered on smug as he happily declared, “Completely inappropriate way for a Keegan to express himself.”

  They stepped up onto the sidewalk and she glanced around at the familiar landmarks. “So, where to?” she asked. “Student union to see if the coffee’s as bad as I remember? The science building so we can reenact some of the arguments we had in Professor Leonard’s class?”

  “The coffee on campus has improved drastically. But I thought I’d show you my office.”

  “I can’t believe you teach here. Doesn’t it seem like just yesterday we were attending classes? Now we’re...” She grimaced. “Grown-ups.”

  “Okay, never mind showing you my office. Maybe we should just egg a couple of dorms and TP the trees on the mall.”

  If he wanted to misbehave, she had suggestions of her own. “There’s always streaking.”

  “Mia. When you see me naked for the first time, it is not going to be in thirty-degree weather. Leave a man his pride.”

  The idea of seeing him undressed, exploring the hard planes of his lean body, left her giddy. Yes, please. She smirked. “You’re so sure we’re going to see each other naked?”

  Stopping, he cupped her face with his hands, his smile devilishly cocky. “Very, very sure.” He lowered his head toward hers. “And very soon.”

  6

  EAGER FOR HIS KISS, Mia stretched up on her toes to meet him, heat thrumming through her as his mouth claimed hers. She’d been waiting for this moment all night, and now she was greedy for him.

  Clutching the front of his jacket, she rubbed her tongue against his, going a little dizzy when he sucked it. His hands were splayed on her ass, holding her close enough to feel the rigid heat of his cock against her stomach. She wanted to curl her fingers around him, watch his eyes brighten with need, wanted to lick the length of him, swiping her tongue under the crown as if he were a wonderfully profane ice cream cone. Do not reach for his zipper. At least, not yet, on the sidewalk, in the shadow of one of the university’s libraries.

  She pried her lips from his long enough to ask, “Should we be doing this here? Not that it bothers me, but since this is where you work...” She was trying to show him the same consideration he’d given her when he’d apologized for necking in front of her office. “Are you worried about your reputation if anyone sees us?”

  “Now that you mention it, I was planning to take you somewhere more private.”

  “Lead the way,” she said, desire adding an impatient rasp to her voice.

  He slid his hand in hers, his thumb making slow sweeps over the skin between her own thumb and forefinger. “Were you serious when you told me you had fantasies about me during Dr. Leonard’s class?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Do I strike you as someone who says things I don’t mean?”

  “No, ma’am. Didn’t mean to doubt you. I just...”

  “I got annoyed during one of your presentations. The information was great, but the delivery was condescending. As if you weren’t sure the rest of us mere mortals would be able to follow your genius explanations.”

  He winced. “Oh, well, when you explain it that way, I can totally understand why you’d be hot for me.”

  “I started thinking about how much fun it would be to rattle you, to interrupt your perfectly polished speech. So I considered flashing you.”

  “You what?”

  She gave him an angelic smile, running a finger along the V of her neckline, tugging the material aside to give him a glimpse of cleavage. “It was such a satisfying visual image—grabbing the hem of my T-shirt, flipping it to my chin, showing you my tits. You, gaping in dumbstruck lust.”

  “I don’t know whether I’m depressed it never happened or grateful. The sudden loss of blood from my brain could have permanently damaged my GPA.” He reached for her hand, deliberately grazing her breast in the process, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “But flunking out might have been worth it.”

  “There were other fantasies, too.” Heated ones. Her undeniable physical attraction to him had been a perversely potent combination with her dislike of him.

  He’d seemed so aloof, which she’d taken as his thinking he was better than his peers. And he had been academically cocky. Looking back, she wondered if some of his attitude was loneliness she’d misinterpreted. His family hadn’t been warm and affectionate; it wasn’t surprising that someone afraid to let his guard down would have difficulty making friends.

  “I considered asking your opinion on my tattoo,” she admitted.

  He cocked his head. “The feather?”

  “No. The one you haven’t seen yet.”

  His eyes glinted with interest, and his gaze dropped over her in a very focused perusal, as if he’d suddenly developed X-ray vision and would be able to spot the mystery tattoo through her clothes. Since it was on her inner thigh, she didn’t think he was going to have much luck.

  Giving up the search, he traced the feather on the back of her neck with an excruciatingly light touch, a whisper of tantalizing sensation against her skin. “So why a flaming feather?”

  She made a face; the choice that had seemed inspired at eighteen struck her as less original now. “A phoenix feather to symbolize my newfound independence. Rising from unpleasant past incidents and recreating myself. Cliché, right?”

  “You’re talking to a literature professor. We thrive on unsubtle symbolism.” He dragged his finger in another lazy outline of the ink. “Your tattoo used to drive me crazy when you wore your hair up. Like tonight. I think, subconsciously, I was dying to do this.” He leaned forward to kiss her nape, biting gently. But not too gently. How did he know just how much pressure to use, just the right scalding sting to make her quiver for more without it hurting? “I made it a point never to sit behind you again after I got so distracted during a lecture that I had to borrow someone else’s notes.”

  “Really?” This admission thrilled her, earning him another confession of her own. “I saw you jogging once. Without your shirt on. I was in the world’s most boring Italian class, listening to a teacher with a voice like warm milk conjugate irregular verbs, and you passed by the window. You stopped for a drink at a water fountain, and I wondered what would happen if I walked right up to you and licked off the drop of sweat rolling down between your shoulder blades.”

  His grip tightened around her hand, and he tugged her along the sidewalk at a faster pace. “Any other fantasies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me.” The gravelly tone of command in his voice was swoon-worthy, and she opened her mouth to give him what he wanted.

  But the little red devil on her shoulder prompted her to protest, “I’m not sure I should keep going. Some of my favorites are best left for...my own private enjoyment.” She purred the words with wicked emphasis.

  He whipped his head around, expression poleaxed. “You mean you’ve—” He stopped, grappling with how to phrase the question.

  “Come while I was thinking about you?” she supplied helpfully. “Mmm-hmm.”

  They’d reached a building entrance, and he used his ID card again to unlock it. Right past the doors were elevators. The second they stepped inside one, his hands dropped to her hips and he hauled her against him for a crushing kiss that was both reward and punishment for all her teasing.

  She thought she’d experienced heat in his arms before? Flames of pleasure consumed her. Arousal pulsed low in her body until she was slick with it, her breasts straining against the confines of
her bra. The material was a satiny lace, but now it seemed almost scratchy, chafing her hypersensitive nipples. She didn’t want silky fabric covering her; she wanted Daniel’s broad palms and clever fingers.

  The elevator doors parted with a ding, and she followed him blindly down a deserted hall, paying no attention to where they were or if she’d been in this building before. Despite her earlier nostalgia, the past no longer mattered. Neither did the future. All she cared about was the next hour and how quickly she could get Daniel out of his clothes.

  He unlocked a door at the end of the hallway. Instead of flipping the light switch, he crossed the room, turning on a small lamp on the corner of the desk. He glanced down. “Good—the trash can is empty. The janitor’s been here.”

  “Um...” He was worried about custodial efficiency at a time like this?

  A slow smile spread across his face as he closed the office door and locked it. “That means no one will bother us.”

  “Oh.” She beamed at him. Yay for empty trash cans.

  He spread his hands in a welcoming gesture. “My office. Nothing fancy, but...”

  “I like it.” The small space held an eclectic assortment of books, a few framed pictures of him with important people—some she recognized, some she didn’t—and best of all, a suede love seat below the window. She wasn’t sure it was even technically big enough to qualify as a love seat, but it would work. Unless he preferred the desk. She ran her hand over a mug full of red pens. “This setting is enough to inspire a few role-playing fantasies.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “You mean like you were caught cheating and would do just about anything to convince me to let you stay in my class?”

  “Hell, no.” Even as a consensual pretense, men in authority positions exploiting young women was not a turn-on for her. “I mean like I’m the teacher. Who gives a slightly unorthodox final exam for her human sexuality class.” She kicked off her shoes and reached for the clip holding up her French twist, letting her hair spill loose. “Think you can make the grade?”

 

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