by Blaire Drake
“You didn’t do a very good job,” he rasped, his eyes still closed.
Fuck me. His morning voice was sexy.
“Apparently.” I wriggled over until I was all but balanced on the edge of the bed. “I’ll just get up and leave you to sleep.”
“What time is it?”
“Six.”
He clamped his arm around my stomach and yanked me back across the bed. For a man who sounded half-asleep, he had the sudden strength of the goddamn Hulk.
“My alarm doesn’t go off for thirty minutes. Go to sleep, Darcy.”
“I just woke up.” It was the lamest protest ever, especially since his half-hard cock was pressing between my butt cheeks.
“I don’t care.” He yawned. “I didn’t.” He pulled me right against him so my body was curved into his.
My eyes darted around the room. Why was cuddling more awkward than sex? I was sure that wasn’t how it was supposed to work. But cuddling was for sissies, right? It was all that intimate shit, like, “Let’s snuggle while I tickle your arm,” or, “Come and tuck into my side while I hold you tightly,” or, “Come here where I can put my hand up your shirt to grab your boob.”
Maybe nix the last one. That isn’t so emotionally intimate.
Was it wrong to hope that Jordan would creep his hand up my shirt to grab my boob? I just… I didn’t know what to do. It’d been a long-ass time since I’d been cuddled like this. I wasn’t sure I was ready for it or even liked it.
No. That was a lie. I did like it. That was the problem. I liked it. I liked the way his body felt behind me, hot and hard. Liked the way his arm was draped protectively over my side. Liked the way my hair fluttered each time he exhaled.
I liked the way he was just…there.
“Darcy, you’re like a plank of wood,” he rumbled against the back of my neck.
“Well…I kinda need the bathroom.”
He laughed and shifted. I rolled onto my back as he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me. His bright-blue eyes were hazy with sleep, and for the very first time since I’d ever seen him, he had a softness about him.
His eyes were the gateway to his soul. Without a doubt.
“Really?” he said slowly, as though he were testing it out. “Why don’t I believe you?”
I widened my eyes and gave him the most innocent look I had. “Because you’re still half-asleep and your perception of the world is altered?”
“Nope. Although good answer.”
“Thank you. But I really do need to pee.”
“I still don’t believe you.”
Sheesh. The man was a lie detector.
“Fine. I’m trying to go home. Can I go?”
“No.” He grinned and rolled on top of me.
It was a total one-eighty from the man I knew, and it shocked me. This Jordan was…almost playful. I was definitely confused, even if I was smiling.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Stopping you from going.” He dropped kisses across my neck.
“I…um…er…”
“And keeping you still so I can answer your questions about why you’re here. You don’t have class today, so if I let you run away, you’d work yourself up into such a mess that you’d come here and yell at me again.” He smiled against my jaw and pushed himself up just to look down at me. “You fell asleep on my couch. I didn’t feel comfortable waking you and making you drive home, which was obviously the right decision, because you didn’t wake up when I picked you up.”
I groaned and covered my eyes with my hand. “Oh my God. This is so embarrassing.”
He leaned to the side, his laughter roaring through the air. I pulled my hand away and almost elbowed him in the head because his face was buried in the sheets at my side.
“What’s so funny?”
He turned his head to the side, still chuckling, and met my eyes. “You.”
I blinked harshly. “Yes. I’m hilarious. Look at me.”
“No…” He rolled to the side, despite his amusement. “You’re embarrassed I carried you to bed while you were asleep.”
“Seriously.” I sat up and looked down at him. “How is that so funny?”
“Because, now, I’m wondering how embarrassed you were the day I told you I was your favorite client.”
My tongue flicked out and slowly traced over my bottom lip. How was I supposed to tell him how that had made me feel? It certainly wasn’t embarrassed. I didn’t remember feeling like I wanted to bury my head in the sand like I kind of did right now.
“I wasn’t…embarrassed,” I said slowly, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I was mad, actually. I was really pissed off that you’d done that. It felt wrong and creepy and…a little bit stalkerish.”
I expected him to be pissed off, but he pushed himself into a sitting position and reached for me. He brushed his thumb along the line of my jaw, his eyes twitching as they narrowed just the tiniest bit.
“I felt the same,” he admitted in a low voice. “It was wrong. Is wrong. This whole fucking situation is wrong.”
I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat, but it wouldn’t budge. “So, why don’t you stop it?”
“Because…” He sighed heavily and averted his eyes for a moment. When they found mine again just seconds later, the haziness had cleared, and I found myself staring into electric pools of blue that could have been sparking with their rawness. “Because, Darcy, I want you more than I’ve wanted anything or anyone in a long time, and I don’t want to think about what would become of me if I denied myself you.”
You know you don’t necessarily need that agreement. Maybe I’m starting to want you too. Maybe I’m afraid of what would happen if I said no. Maybe not being connected to you is scarier than the possibility of being caught.
The words were on the tip of my tongue. I had no idea where they’d come from, but there they were, lingering like the taste of rich chocolate. My hand trembled in my lap, so I slid it between my thighs in the hope that he wouldn’t notice.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the alarm on the clock on the nightstand kicked in in the form of the radio. It blared out around the room, but although it was a sudden start, it didn’t shock me.
I’d never been so glad to hear One Direction in my life.
Jordan reached over and turned it off. He pinched the bridge of his nose before he abruptly stood and turned to me. “I’ll go and turn the coffee maker on.” He left the room before I had a chance to reply.
And, now, I really did need to pee.
I waited until I heard his footsteps disappearing down the stairs before I got up and went in search of his bathroom. The carpet was soft beneath my bare toes, and I padded my way across the hall and peeked through doorways. I wasn’t trying to snoop—although it was definitely tempting.
I caught myself pausing outside his bedroom door but forced my feet to keep moving. Nope, nope. That wasn’t going to happen. I found the bathroom right next door and turned the lock as soon as I was in there.
I didn’t know what to think about what had happened this morning. His actions and my thoughts.
They were…peculiar. If that word was even strong enough. Out of place, for sure.
I ran my fingers through my hair in a desperate attempt to try to tame it. It’d gone wild overnight, and there was no way I could go back to Dalton House looking like I’d made out with a bramble bush. It was going to be bad enough as it was with the questions. I knew that Jenna and Bella wouldn’t give up until I’d given them a believable explanation.
Looked like my made-up guy didn’t have a girlfriend after all, he was from out of town, and no, I wasn’t telling them anything about him.
I sighed as I headed downstairs. This was getting sticky. The lies were building up, but of course, the biggest one I was living was the reason for all the lies.
Professor Jordan Keaton.
The masquerade that was necessary to get what I’d worked for was the biggest lie. Hav
ing to walk into class with him and watch him as he talked, pretending I didn’t know what his lips felt like on mine, or watching him gesticulate with his hands, pretending not to remember the feeling of his fingertips against my skin…
Lies. All of it. Lies.
And, as a law student who dreamed of one day prosecuting all the bastards of the world, it went against everything I believed in.
The moral war I battled each day was getting overwhelming.
I paused at the bottom of the stairs. Upon seeing him still in the kitchen, I tiptoed into the front room and grabbed my things. I picked my shoes up by their heels, pulled my keys out of my purse as I shoved my schoolwork into it, then crept out of his house. The door barely made a sound as I left.
I knew he’d know.
And I just didn’t care.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” Bella stood in the middle of the hallway, grinning at me.
I froze.
“Is she back?” Jenna’s voice traveled through from the kitchen.
“Yes, she is.” Bella’s grin widened.
Jenna poked her head around the door. “Well, hello, slut!”
I fixed them both with an evil look. “Go fuck yourselves.”
“I did last night,” Bella chirped with glee. “But the question is: Who fucked you?”
I rolled my eyes and pushed past her and into the kitchen. I needed coffee, but what I smelled was cookies.
“Have you been baking?” I asked.
Jenna sheepishly put a hand up. “Couldn’t sleep. We now have sixty chocolate chip cookies.”
“Well, there’s breakfast.” I moved straight to the cooling rack and grabbed three.
They were still warm. The chocolate was still melted a little.
“Hey!” She came for me in an attempt to take them back, but I bit into all three in my most childish move yet. “Ugh. This is why I don’t bake with you around.”
I grinned and bit into my cookie again. What could I say? I was a sucker for baked goods.
“Yeah, yeah. The cookies are nice.” Bella’s voice took on a hard edge, and she glared at me. “Where were you?”
I shrugged.
“You don’t know?”
Shrugged again.
“Darcy!”
“What? You’re not my mom.”
“I might be a few inches shorter than you, but I will kick your ass!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Babe, no offense, but you’re half my size. I could walk right over you.”
She looked me up and down. “Yeah, well, there’s more of you to be annoyed with.”
“And you’re easier to shove out a door when you’re being annoying. What’s your point?”
“Jesus, you need coffee, Darce.” Jenna immediately turned and put the pot on.
She was in nurturing mode. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, she was the best friend to have.
“I need to know where she was!” Bella protesting.
“I wasn’t alone, all right?” I finally snapped. “That’s all you want to know. That’s all you need to know. Now, give it a rest.” I grabbed my purse from where I’d put it down on the counter and looked back at Jenna. “Don’t worry about the coffee. I’ll get some from Starbucks.”
I stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my room. The door slammed behind me, a wave of weakness hit me, and I stumbled backward into the door. The handle rammed into my lower back. Pain radiated through my body, and tears stung the backs of my eyes as my purse hit the floor with a gentle thud.
I squeezed my eyes shut as I put my hand over the sore part of my back and leaned against the door. My knees wobbled, giving out at the exact moment tears escaped my eyes.
I tried to convince myself that they weren’t tears, that my eyes were just watering from the pain. But, deep down, I knew I was wrong. I was so wrong. The accumulation of everything over the past several days, how quickly everything had escalated, was coming at me like a freight train. Except this freight train had veered off the tracks and was skidding across the ice… But I was the ice, and I was straining under the weight of it.
I sat there for a while, allowing the tears to fall. Crying was as close to therapy as I was gonna get, and I clearly needed it. By the time my eyes had dried, I felt much better. The stress had evaporated out into the air as the tears dripped off my cheeks and soaked into my tank top.
I felt like I was ready to face the world again.
A check of the time told me that I still had an hour before I had to think about leaving for class. I knew that Jenna and Bella had already left, which I was glad about, because I felt a little guilty for having yelled at Bella the way I had. She was just being her usual nosy self, and usually, I didn’t mind, but this time…
I knew I couldn’t tell anyone about me and Jordan. I couldn’t even tell them his name. I should have, really. Maybe if they’d asked me several days ago, I might have. Maybe if the only thing he’d ever done to me was kiss me or even after that first time I had gone to his house, I might have told them.
But now… Now, I had an urge to protect him. To protect myself. I didn’t understand it, but what I did understand was that the hatred I’d harbored so intensely had disappeared. He wasn’t the coldhearted asshole I’d wanted to punch in the face. He was a man living with the pain of his past, taking it day by day.
You couldn’t argue with a man who was an asshole for no other reason than to keep on living.
I would have been a hypocrite if I’d hated him for that. After all—I was a cam girl for that very same reason.
I forced myself to stand before swiping at my cheeks to wipe away any remaining traces of emotion. That was it—that was the feeling I was allowing myself today. Heartless Bitch would resume momentarily.
I opened my bedroom door and almost kicked over the mug of coffee sitting on the floor. It was still steaming and had dripped onto the piece of paper beneath it on the carpet. I bent down with a small frown to pick it up.
Sorry. Bella x
I smiled a little and picked it up. Once I’d shut my door and set the mug on my dresser, I grabbed my phone and texted her to say thank you and apologize too. My notifications showed that I had two e-mails, so I sat cross-legged on my bed and brought my inbox up. One was from Jordan, the other from a Christina Wilson. I had no idea who she was, and the subject line was empty. It had every marking of a spam e-mail, so I deleted it and opened Jordan’s.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Lines…
Darcy,
I overstepped them. But so did you by not saying goodbye. I had to drink your coffee.
J
I took a deep breath and hit reply.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Yes…
Dear Professor,
Yes, you did. No more late-night rendezvouses, thank you very much. I’d prefer if it was a fuck-and-run situation in the future.
Xoxo, Darcy.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: You run?
Darcy,
Fuck, food, run. How does that sound?
J
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: I’m a sprinter.
Dear Professor,
Fuck, food, fuck, run, and you have a deal.
Xoxo, Darcy.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Really.
Darcy,
I’ll amend the agreement…
J
I shook my head and closed the app. I was running out of time to get ready for class, and I didn’t want to continue that conversation any longer. If I had to stay with him for food, then, well, yeah. Another fuck may as well happen.
Fucking was better than feeling.
I grabbed my stuff and headed for the show
er, a niggle in the back of my mind. I couldn’t put my finger on it, so I washed myself in a state of extreme frustration. It wasn’t until I walked back into my room, clutching my towel, that I saw my phone on my bed and it all made sense.
I had the most compelling urge to open the e-mail I’d just deleted.
My fingers twitched as I dried my body and put my underwear on. It was more than an urge now. It was a burning desire to see the contents… Like when you’re five years old and you know your mom has your Christmas presents in that box under her bed and you need to know if she got you that Barbie you were dying for.
I pulled a shirt on and jumped on my bed. I grabbed my phone as it bounced up and opened my e-mail app once more. This time, I headed for the trash. It was right there, at the top. Christina Wilson, no subject, in big, black, bold letters.
My heart jumped into my throat when I clicked on it. The words swam before my eyes as their unknown meaning hit me right in the gut. I might not have a clue what they meant, but I sure as hell knew who they referred to.
Jordan.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: (no subject)
You aren’t the only one.
Dear Professor, what an enigma you are… Xoxo, Darcy.
You aren’t the only one.
It’d been two days since that e-mail. Two days since new lines had been drawn in my relationship with Professor Keaton. Two days that those five words had consumed me to the point of a disease.
I knew they were about him. I knew he was involved somehow. I didn’t know how I did, but my gut told me it the same way that it’d made me open Christina’s e-mail.
I hadn’t replied to her. I wanted to. I wanted to ask her what she was talking about, but I was too afraid to. I was afraid of what her response would be—what she’d tell me about this man who was slowly revealing himself to me.
About the man who, despite all odds, was creeping under my skin.
Last night, he’d spent twenty minutes being the defense in my law work. He’d countered every point I’d made, and every single time I’d outsmarted him, he’d laughed. It’d been the most unofficial court of law I’d ever been in—partly because of my yoga pants.
