Dear Professor

by Blaire Drake

  He dragged his gaze up to mine, and the lust I saw glaring back at me thrilled me.

  “You do realize that this conversation has escalated incredibly quickly,” he said.

  “Of course I am. I escalated it.”

  He kept his eyes on me as he raised his hand in the direction of the waitress. I wanted to squirm beneath the heat of his gaze, but I refused to. I wouldn’t give in today. It didn’t matter that we had one huge thing in common, something that connected us by a tiny, silver thread of intimacy that was tightly winding itself through the air. I didn’t want to focus on that. I didn’t want any kind of particular connection with him—even if it was one that was inevitable, like the losses we’d suffered.

  It still remained that there was a line. We weren’t emotion or intimacy. We were sex. Red-hot, rough, bruising, desperate sex.

  I liked it that way. I wanted more of it that way. But I wanted him to want it too.

  I wanted him to want me so badly that he’d be uncontrollable. Just like he had been on Friday night. Animalistic and brutal. I’d loved it. God, I’d loved it.

  He paid the bill despite my protests and practically dragged me outside. Everyone else saw a well-mannered gentleman with his arm around the waist of his lunch date as he guided her through the diner.

  I felt a man with a strong, possessive grip around my body as his fingers dug into my hip.

  I didn’t know which one I preferred. In that second, though, I was swinging to the strong, possessive grip.

  Jordan led me to his SUV, a few cars down from mine, and I let him until he reached for the door handle. I swung around in front of him, putting my back against the door, and grabbed the collar of his shirt. He grunted as I pulled him into me. He steadied himself with one hand against the window as I tugged him so far down that he had no choice but to kiss me.

  I wrapped one hand around his neck and held him against me. This time, the kiss was mine. I explored his mouth with my tongue, tracing every curve of his lips and battling every stroke of his tongue. We fought for dominance, taking turns winning out momentarily before the other ultimately took control.

  I slid my hand down his front and cupped his semi-hard cock. It hardened beneath my grip as I continued to kiss him with no intention other than turning him the hell on.

  He had a past, and so did I, and that leveled the playing field. I needed to swing it in my favor, and swing it I fucking would.

  I lightly squeezed his cock and grazed my teeth across his bottom lip. I smiled as I did it, taking pleasure in the low groan that rumbled in his throat. I was as turned on as he felt, but control was about taking it and holding on to it.

  “Tough luck, sir,” I gasped against his mouth. “I just remembered… I have studying to do.” I pushed him off me and darted away as he reached for me.

  His eyes narrowed into dark slits. “Darcy.” My name was nothing but a growl vibrating off his lips.

  I touched my fingers to my mouth then blew him a kiss, smugness flooding through me. “See you in class, Professor. Oh…and don’t expect me to be wearing any panties.”

  “Darcy!”

  I laughed as I ran around the cars separating ours and jumped into mine. I slammed the door, locked it, and started the engine in record speed, even as my purse fell over on the passenger’s seat and its contents scattered across the floor. I didn’t want to take the risk that he’d catch me because I knew he would given half a chance.

  I backed out of the parking spot, my lips still tingling from the kiss and my chin aching from the way his stubble had rubbed it. I glanced in Jordan’s direction as I drove past him. He was standing next to his truck with his door open, and the look in his eyes was predatory.

  As in run—that kind of predatory. “Run and don’t stop until you’re far away or you’ve been caught” predatory, “because the result if you get caught won’t be pretty” kind of predatory.

  I couldn’t help but grin.

  I was so ready for class tomorrow—and I really was leaving my panties behind.

  Fuck it.

  Demon, he though as she drove away. Little fucking devil.

  He watched as her car joined the traffic filtering onto I-90 and disappeared from view. This had been the hardest conversation he’d had in a long time, and his guilt from his actions last night stung him hard. She was so fucking sweet. Darcy, that was. He had known from the moment he’d met her that there was something different about her, and there it was.

  They shared the same pain, even if their victims had been on the other sides of the coin.

  He didn’t want to admit that his therapist and his mom had been onto something when they’d said that it was therapeutic to talk. He didn’t think any kind of talking was right. It had to be talking to the right person.

  He also didn’t want to admit that Darcy was the right person. What if she was? The thought didn’t bear contemplating. She was supposed to be a fling, a time-filler, nothing more. Especially given his…bad behavior…last night. He couldn’t help but a feel a severe pang of guilt whenever he thought about that.

  Because today… Fuck. He’d connected with Darcy on a level he hadn’t known existed in his life. Their common loss bound them. He knew that. He’d seen and felt enough to know it.

  It terrified him.

  Like a hurricane touching down on land or a tsunami forcing its power onto the coast. He was so fucking scared of what this meant, and not much scared him. But Darcy… Shit. Darcy.

  She was terrifying. With her hot-and-cold persona, her skittish and confident demeanor. Mostly, it was her attitude. No matter how she felt, that attitude was always there, simmering beneath the surface. It didn’t matter whether he was kissing her or—as he’d learned today—buying her lunch, she was sassy as fuck.

  Hell, she had sassy pants for every day of the goddamn week. He’d bet fifty bucks that every single day had a fucking different pattern too.

  That was Darcy Hamilton. Unpredictable, challenging. All the things that made him excited. But, this time, there was a desire he hadn’t had before. At least, anymore. If he’d felt it at the start, he’d forgotten.

  He didn’t want to hurt her. In any kind of way.

  He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to abuse her body in the most pleasurable of ways. He wanted to tease her until she came, writhing beneath him. He wanted to own every single inch of her skin, of course. But he didn’t want to hurt her.

  Physically. Emotionally.

  He was far softer with her than he’d been with the others. He didn’t know why, but he figured he’d discovered why today. He’d found out exactly why Darcy was different and marched to the beat of her own drum.

  He’d just told himself two days ago that he had nothing to lose because he’d already lost everything.

  Maybe that was why Darcy was the way she was.

  You couldn’t truly hurt a woman who’d already suffered unimaginable pain. You couldn’t ever top the loss of a person she loved.

  He knew that. He could lose his job, his house, his car, his money… Sleeping on the streets would hurt less than the moment he’d realized Amanda had died.

  He wondered if that was how Darcy had felt when she’d found out about her boyfriend.

  Of course it was. She had to had felt that pain. She knew. She knew it so damn well that she could probably trace his scars if he revealed them to her, but that was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t want to show her a thing. He wanted to lock the pain away once more.

  He’d already felt her. Darcy. Something about her. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to feel a thing except how fucking tight her pussy felt around his cock. That was it and only it. Fi-fucking-nite.

  That had to be it.

  I was a woman on a mission. Granted, I’d lost my trump card, as it were, but that only spurred me on. If his wife wasn’t his secret, something else had to be. I knew I might have been fishing in an empty lake, but even if I only brought up old boots, I had to try. Better to look a
nd never find than never look and always wonder.

  Until then, though, I was going to take this agreement to the next level. I had the perk of knowing how my body worked. I knew every inch of my body and how to use that to my advantage.

  When I’d told him that I wasn’t going to wear panties, I hadn’t been lying. At least, I wouldn’t be when I was in class. I was going to wear them right until I had to walk into his classroom. Sure, it would be a little…breezy. And kind of yucky. But I’d realized something as I’d lain in bed last night.

  I had the power to say no.

  I could push him to brink of frustration then refuse him.

  Maybe that was my biggest trump card. That I could tease him so badly over and over. I could essentially never allow the man to fuck me again with the power I wielded.

  I was torn over that. On one hand, that was perfect. On the other…I’d woken up three times squirming last night. It was as though our conversation yesterday about his wife had opened the floodgates, and now, I was struggling with how much I wanted him.

  It had been dream after dream all night. The wall. A desk. Backseat of a car. Apparently, dream Darcy really wasn’t fussy how or where she got screwed, just as long as she did. Dream Darcy owned her sexuality. I liked her.

  Now, real Darcy had to do the same thing. I had to step up to the challenge, even if it meant putting the thoughts of revenge out of my mind for a little while. The best revenge I could get was by using what I was good at—my body.

  What else I needed to do was keep the knowledge that we had more in common than just desire out of my head. The loss we shared had softened me toward him slightly… It made me want to know more.

  I didn’t want to think he was like me. I didn’t want to think that the reason he was such an asshole was because he was too afraid to hurt again. I wanted to carry on believing he was an asshole simply because he was an asshole.

  Therein lay my biggest problem.

  I wasn’t sure he was that much of an asshole.

  “Who took the last vanilla coffee pod?” Jenna stormed into the front room, waving the empty box around.

  Lou barely looked up from her laptop. “You did. Right after the bottle of wine last night.”

  “Aw shit,” Jenna muttered, throwing the box on the floor.

  “Pick the box up,” I told her. “You’re not four.”

  “Geez. Yes, Mom,” she snapped. “Now what I am going to do?”

  “Wait ten minutes and get a cup from Starbucks before class?”

  She paused. “Actually, that isn’t a bad idea. You’re going in, right?”

  “Yes, and no, I won’t drive you. You can drive yourself.”

  “Bitch.”

  I grinned. If only she knew.

  Dear Professor, class is fun when you’re…frustrated. Xoxo, Darcy.

  I met Jenna outside Starbucks, and we walked in together. She practically ran to the counter to order her beloved vanilla coffee, leaving me laughing at her as I followed at a much more leisurely pace. When I reached the counter, I ordered a double espresso shot and joined Jenna at the end to collect our coffees.

  “Double espresso? You slept badly again?”

  I shrugged. “Kept waking up. I’m not sure what’s up with me.”

  “Do you have all of your letters yet? You never said if Keaton gave you it.”

  “No. I don’t have it yet. He said he wants to wait until he has a better idea of my average grade.” It was a smooth lie and one that was easily believable. “It’s really annoying, but hey. I can’t force it out of him.”

  She frowned. “Don’t you have to send them soon? Won’t it affect it if you don’t have one?”

  “Usually, no. But, because it’s him, I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t want to find out.”

  “He’s an asshole. Thank you,” she said to the barista. “Seriously, Darce. That isn’t a reason to withhold a letter. You get A’s all the time.”

  “I know. He’s a total asshole, but like I said, I can’t force it out of him.” I shrugged again and took my coffee. “Thank you. Hey, Jen, I need to run to the bathroom. Hold this.”

  She rolled her eyes but took it as I headed toward the restrooms. The heavy door creaked as I opened it and walked into the empty bathroom. I took the nearest stall and locked the door behind me. Then I did my business.

  As soon as I opened the stall door, I screamed.

  Jordan covered my mouth with his hand and pushed me back in. He came in with me then shut the door behind him. The sound of the lock clicking echoed through the air, and I narrowed my eyes at him, grabbing his hand.

  “The hell?” I hissed, pulling his hand away from my mouth.

  “I’m an asshole?” He raised his eyebrows and clasped my wrists.

  “And you needed to accost me in a bathroom stall for that?” I almost gaped at him. “What are you even doing here?”

  “Presumably having coffee, given that this is a coffee shop,” he responded, bemused. “And no—I’m accosting you in a bathroom stall to find out if I’m going to be subjected to the knowledge that you won’t have any underwear on during class today.”

  I met his eyes in a challenge. “Why don’t you find out?”

  He tugged me right against him, which wasn’t hard given our tight quarters. He secured my hands behind my back and lowered his face to mine. He brushed his lips across mine before they found my neck and kissed a hot trail down to my collarbone. As his mouth on my skin commanded my attention, he slid his hand beneath my dress and pushed it between my legs.

  “Panties,” he rasped, his fingers coming into contact with the lace of my thong. “What there is of them, at least.”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” I breathed, desperately trying to ignore the ache in my clit. “I haven’t taken them off yet.”

  His sentence died as the door opened. We both froze, him with his hand still between my legs.

  “Darcy?” Jenna’s voice filled the room. “You’ve been in here a few minutes. Are you all right?”

  “Shit,” I mouthed to Jordan.

  He released me and climbed onto the toilet. I winced as he ducked. Then I reached for some toilet paper, making sure she heard the rattle of the holder.

  “Yep, I’m fine. Just, you know. Girl stuff.”

  “Oh. You didn’t bring your purse in.”

  Fuck.

  “Do you need me to get you a tampon from the machine?”

  Cringing, I answered, “Please.”

  I could barely breathe as she crossed the floor and put a quarter in the machine. The quiet drop of the tampon seemed to scream.

  “Here.” Jenna’s hand appeared beneath the stall, the tampon encased in her fingertips.

  I bent down and took it. “Thanks. I’ll be out in a minute. Leave my coffee on the sink if you want to go without me.”

  “All right. It’ll be safe. It’s dead out there. It’s on the sink. I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah, bye.” I held my breath until the door clicked shut then looked helplessly at the tampon.

  Thank God she’d never paid attention to the fact I don’t have periods.

  Jordan’s quiet chuckle broke through the silence, and he stepped off the toilet. “I’m hoping that was a cover story.”

  I nodded with a grim smile on my face. “I didn’t know what else to say. I panicked.”

  He took it from my hand, grinning, then dropped it in the little trash can next to the toilet. “Your next class starts in ten minutes,” he breathed into my ear. “You should probably get going. You wouldn’t want to piss off your professor.”

  I swallowed and raised my eyes to his. “Trust me. My professor is going to be in a very, very bad mood the whole lesson.”

  “Is he now?”

  Demurely, I nodded. “I should probably go. My coffee’s getting cold.”

  “So is mine.” He eyed me speculatively as I unlocked the door and squeezed out of the stall. He followed me out and slapped my butt before walking out of the
restroom like he hadn’t just been in a ladies’ bathroom.

  As soon as the door shut, I ran back into the stall and closed the door. Then I took my thong off and balled it into my fist. Then, grabbing my coffee, I headed back to the front, and my lips gave a devilish tug upward as I saw that he was sitting at a table with a laptop open in front of him.

  I swerved around the tables until I got to him, paused, and dropped my panties in his lap. He slapped his hand over them, and the burn of his gaze followed me as I walked to the door. I tugged it open and glanced back.

  His look gave me chills of the best kind. They were driven by the lust I saw dancing in his eyes. It was exciting to see such need reflected back at me. I fought my shiver until I left the coffee shop and got into my car.

  This was going to be either the worst class ever or the best one.

  I had my bets on both, depending which side of his desk you were on.

  I made it to class only moments before he did. I was sure that it was a deliberate move by him. He’d probably tried to catch me before I’d driven across campus but failed and, instead, tried to follow me. I wouldn’t have put it past him.

  I already knew I was in trouble for that little trick.

  His blue eyes blazed at me as he swept his gaze across the class. His voice was deep when he spoke, and I felt every word in tingles across my skin. I couldn’t help but watch him as he walked back and forth at the front of the room, writing on the board. Dots appeared next to various words as he hit the marker against the board to make a point.

  He made every effort not to look at me. It was both amusing and frustrating. I found my fist clenching as often as my lips hinted at a smile. My stomach coiled as much as my heart skipped beats.

  The sensations were disarming, not to mention out of place. Our conversation yesterday couldn’t have really changed that much between us, could it? I didn’t want to think so. I didn’t want to accept that the knowledge that we shared the same kind of pain had peeled away a layer of the hatred I carried for him.

  I ran my fingers through my hair and stared at the clock. The third hand that counted the seconds was moving deathly slow. Eternities passed between each movement of the second hand. Just like a watched pot never boiled, apparently, a watched clock rarely ticked.