He sat back, his gazed fastened to her newly decorated flesh. “Why not?”
“Why not?” she repeated. “You know how wet I get. If I go without panties, I’m in danger of dripping. I can’t be in there with your colleagues with . . . with my pussy leaking!”
“Even though I would volunteer to take care of that for you, you’re probably right.” He pulled her thong back up, patted it into place.
She arched a brow at him. “You weren’t planning on me going thong-less at all, were you?”
He gave her a cheeky grin. “Sweetheart, I know your body. This is our secret, no one else’s, a secret that will provide a much-needed distraction.”
Realization dawned. “You did this so I wouldn’t be nervous about going to your party, didn’t you?”
“Guilty as charged.” He rose to his feet, licking his lips. “Are you ready?”
“To be fucked? Yes.”
“That makes two of us.” He offered her his arm. “Let’s get to the party. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.”
“This is a pretty important event, isn’t it?” she asked after they made it to his car.
“It’s a cocktail party. There will be drinks, appetizers, and conversation. Lots and lots of conversation. People will jockey for position as they usually do when they’re out with their bosses and coworkers. It will probably bore you to tears. It would bore me too if I didn’t get to look at you and know what you’re wearing for me.”
“Thank you, but you’re avoiding the question,” she said, fighting the urge to squirm. The thong wasn’t doing enough to keep the crystals from teasing her clit. “How important is tonight for you?”
“My contract will be up soon,” he answered as he left the parking deck and turned the car toward College Street. “I need a renewal or a grant of tenure to a full professorship. The people who can make that happen will be in the room tonight.”
Acid flooded her stomach, driving desire away. “Is your career on the line?”
“No.” He reached over to take her hand. “If my tenure isn’t secured, I can still teach as long as they renew my contract. Given the amount of money I’ve brought into the college over the last few years, I don’t think they can afford to let me go. But if they totally screw me over, I have other options to fall back on, like the writing and consulting work, doing research, or joining a think tank again.”
Her heart sank. “You don’t like the consulting work enough to do it full time,” she pointed out, remembering the case that had taken him to Los Angeles a couple of weeks ago. Remembered how his psyche had taken a hit, and how much he’d needed her afterwards.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. I like helping people. I like educating others on the difference between healthy and unhealthy sexual predilections, and doing my small part to stop those who take it too far. Sometimes that means walking through darkness in order to understand that darkness. Sometimes it’s hard to shake it off completely.”
He turned to her briefly, but she felt the weight of his gaze. “I have you to come back to now. You to look at. Just the thought of you makes it bearable.”
A lump formed in her throat, impossible to ignore. She was glad that she could help him like this, glad that she could be a welcome distraction. Kane meant too much to her for her to allow him to stress out alone.
She hugged the knowledge to herself. Over the past few weeks, since the confrontation with Audie and his return from Los Angeles, Nadia’s relationship with Kane had changed, deepened. She was emotionally attached to him, no matter how she’d tried to convince herself otherwise. He had become an integral part of her life, and his happiness was important to her. The nights she spent in his arms, whether for sex or not, had become as necessary to her as breathing. She’d do anything for him.
The feeling was as exhilarating as it was scary. It felt too close to obsession and that worried her. She’d also been obsessed with Gary, her manager. He’d taken advantage of her and her trust, made promises he had no intention of delivering on, and had driven her to the point that her life had imploded.
Kane was nothing like Gary. He was driven, yes, but only for himself. She felt safe with Kane, safe in a way she hadn’t felt since she’d left home. She trusted him completely, and even thought herself in love with him, and that knowledge spread through her like sunlight. She’d tell him so tonight, after the party was over. Wrapped in the comfort of his arms, she’d tell him that last part of her painful past, and hope that he’d be as accepting as he’d been about the first.
“Nadia?”
She blinked at the soft sound of Kane’s voice, then took a look out her window. “Oh, we’re here. Already.”
She reached for the door handle, but he stopped her. “What’s bothering you, sweetheart?”
“What makes you think something’s bothering me?”
He raised a brow. “The fact that you’re dodging the question is a clue. So is the way that you’ve got my hand in a death grip right now.”
“God.” She loosened her grip, then tried to extricate her hand from his. He wouldn’t let her.
“Nadia.”
“I’m sorry.” Her shoulders slumped. “I think I’m working myself up to a full-fledged anxiety attack.” She hadn’t felt this kind of pressure to perform since her cooking-competition days. The only recent time had been during the grand opening week for Sugar and Spice, when she’d sat for interviews with the local and college newspapers.
“Maybe we should leave,” Kane said, his expression one of concern.
“No.” She blew out a breath, focused on her breathing, trying to find her calm, find her center. In. Out. Repeat. “Tonight is important to you and that makes it important to me. Think of me as your designated cheerleader for the evening.”
“Just for the evening?” he asked softly.
“Of course not. I’m going to be there for you in the same way you’ve been there for me.”
“You have been there for me, and words cannot express how much that means to me. Tonight is significant, but so are you. If you’re not comfortable in any way, we can leave right now, no regrets.”
Her stomach clenched. She didn’t want Kane to make sacrifices on her behalf, especially if it cost something dear to him, like the chance at a full professorship. Tonight wasn’t rocket science. All she had to do was be the best version of her current self that she could possibly be.
“We’re going to stay. You’re going to network, I’m going to have a good time, and when we get home, you’re going to properly reward me for my good behavior.”
The smile he gave her pushed all anxiety from her mind, leaving behind nothing but thoughts of Kane and the promises inherent in the sexy curve of his lips. “Thinking of ways to reward you will definitely be the highlight of the next couple of hours,” he said, his voice low and thick with intensity. “I promise we won’t stay one moment longer than necessary.”
“I’ll hold you to that promise, Professor Sullivan.”
“As my lady desires.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Nadia glanced about the crowded room, feeling less intelligent with every passing moment. Faculty parties seemed to be on the same level as political events. Lots of politicking, lots of jockeying for position, with fake smiles and compliments as a thin veneer over a whiff of desperation.
Still, she managed to keep her LA smile in place. She posed for photos with Kane and others, some faculty, some alumni and other boosters. As she nursed a single glass of cabernet, she made small talk, charmed a group of potential donors, talked desserts with a few people she recognized as regulars at her café. She felt relatively confident enough that she wandered away from Kane to give him the opportunity to network as he needed to without having to worry about her.
Kane had been right about one important thing. Her new accessory was doing a stellar job of ke
eping her mind off her social discomfort. Instead, she was acutely aware of her physical discomfort. She had to do something to take the edge off. Kane probably wouldn’t like it, but she was sure he’d find a creative way to make her pay.
She made her way to the ladies’ room and into a stall, grateful for the paper seat covers and the floor-to-ceiling doors that provided complete privacy. As soon as she got herself settled, the outer door opened again and a group of women entered. They immediately got to the point. “Did you see the woman Professor Sullivan brought with him?”
“Pretty dark-haired thing?” one of the other women asked. “I haven’t seen her on campus before. Does anyone know who she is?”
“I heard that she runs that café down on Main,” one of the gossipers said. “Sugar and Spice, I think it’s called. But there’s more to her than that.”
The salacious tone had Nadia curling her hands into fists. She shouldn’t be sitting there listening to a bunch of ancient rejects from the mean girls club, but she couldn’t move. She needed to know her enemy.
“What? What did you hear?”
“I hear he’s using her for his research work just like he’s used all the other ones. Some new paper he’s working on.”
“Don’t be catty, Lorraine. Green isn’t your best color.”
The other women laughed. “I’m telling the truth,” Lorraine insisted. “It’s for some new paper he’s writing. Supposedly she’s got some special experience that’s the focus point for his paper.”
Ice filled Nadia’s veins. No. She couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t believe it. Kane wouldn’t use her like that.
“What sort of experience?” someone asked.
“Do you really have to ask? For Professor Sex?”
The women laughed again, and that was almost enough for Nadia to barge out of the stall and give them all a piece of her mind. They weren’t done, however.
“That’s not all,” the salacious one said. “I hear that she used to have a cooking show. I heard she got fired from it because she was high all the time.”
“She’s a drug user?” someone asked in a shocked whisper.
“Well, I don’t know if she still is, but she definitely was when she got canned by the network. Apparently they don’t keep killers on the payroll.”
“She killed someone?”
“There was no proof, and she didn’t go to jail. But that poor man did die, and she was with him when it happened. She probably paid people off. You know how those Hollywood types are.”
Nadia bit down on her hand to keep from screaming. She had been cleared of any wrongdoing in criminal and civil court, but who cared about facts? Truth was, she had been strung out on sedatives before the accident that ended her television career and killed Gary. Even without the accident, she’d been on a countdown clock to termination anyway.
Someone sniffed in obvious disapproval. “Why would Sullivan bring someone like that to an event like this? The man is supposed to know better.”
“Exactly. How does he expect to impress donors with a date like that?”
“He has to impress the board as well,” Miss Disapproval added. “His contract is up for renewal in a couple of months. I hope for his sake that she is the subject of his research paper and not anything more. He certainly can’t assume he’ll get a full professorship if he’s in a real relationship with her.”
“A professor and a drug user?” Someone tittered with laughter. “That won’t fly. Not even for Professor Sex. Not even at Herscher.”
Nadia bent over double in the privacy of the stall as the women left, fighting to get enough air in her lungs. Pain ruptured in her chest like a broken blister, poisoning her thoughts, her emotions, her hopes, everything.
She had to think, had to focus, but it was hard to move beyond the agony that stung her eyes and scoured her heart. The women and their cruel words ripped at her, tearing at her defenses, reinforcing her belief that coming to the event with Kane had been a bad idea from the start.
Were they right? If they were, what were they right about? That Kane didn’t have a future at Herscher if she stayed with him, or the idea that the only reason he was with her was for some sort of sexual research?
She swallowed down another whimper of pain. Either idea hurt. She didn’t want to be a detriment to Kane, but she knew that what was acceptable in Hollywood didn’t necessarily track on the outside. People still looked askance at drug addicts even if they were in recovery. A stint in rehab was almost a fashion accessory in Los Angeles. Here in Crimson Bay, for all of its progressiveness, addiction was frowned upon, the people suffering from it, shunned. She well remembered how the city had been bereft of support groups before she and Siobhan had arrived, and how they had to take it upon themselves to launch one.
Nadia shook her head. If Kane wanted a future and a full professorship at Herscher—and she knew that he did—he wouldn’t be able to have it as long as he wanted a relationship with her.
Surely he was aware of that. Not only was he smart, he was focused, driven, strategic. Controlled. He had to have known what the reaction among his colleagues would be, having someone like her on his arm at this high-profile event. He’d probably weighed the pros and cons and decided to make a calculated risk, knowing he’d have plenty of data to collect for later use.
Despair weighed down her shoulders. It made a twisted sort of sense. Kane hadn’t batted an eye when she’d told him she was in recovery. He’d observed her in her café before he had approached her. That she’d wanted to explore The Perfumed Garden had been pure bonus. He’d pushed her sexual boundaries, coaxing her to wear nipple clamps while grocery shopping and clitoral jewelry to his networking event. . . .
The last curling edge of desire faded, leaving her cold and mortified. All the things he’d said to her, all the things he’d done to her and for her—had they all been calculated acts designed to yield data for his research? She hadn’t even bothered to ask him details about his work at Herscher. She’d assumed that he was teaching out of a textbook, not writing the curriculum himself.
Of course he was. She could imagine the title: Sexual Habits among the Addicted. He’d document everything they’d done together, every sordid detail. Everything he’d done had led to this. Testing her, pushing her buttons. Putting nipple clamps on her then taking her out in public. The jeweled clip that was on her clitoris even now. He’d had it already, she just knew it. It matched the clamps he’d given her earlier. So why didn’t he use them before? Why wait until the night of the faculty event to put the clip on her, making her walk around his event horny and desperate for him while he worked the room.
It was the ultimate power trip, and she was his clueless pawn.
She couldn’t breathe through the pain that threatened to crush her. She thought he’d wanted her, her, not just any woman’s body. She’d been falling in love with him, surrendering to him, believing she could be safe with him, and all the while he’d only been using her.
She’d been through that before. She couldn’t do it again. Never again.
Nadia turned on her heel and walked away with her head held high, fighting to keep her anger under control. Damn those women. Damn Kane, for bringing her here. It was time to get a taxi home and leave all this drama behind.
TWENTY-SIX
It didn’t take Kane long to realize he’d made a monumental blunder bringing Nadia to the party. She’d handled the attention from the curious and the schemers well at first, making him proud. Then he’d noticed that her usual warm smile had an edge to it, her good mood sharper, her tone of voice too bright. It had bothered him that she wasn’t enjoying herself at an event that was important to him, a situation she would find herself in again if she stayed with him. Then he realized that she’d fallen back on her Hollywood social skills, using them as defensive armor to protect herself from the sharks trawling the class ocean.
He began to make his way toward the ballroom exit, knowing Nadia had gone to the ladies’ room. He had to get her out of there. It had been a mistake to bring her, a mistake to expose her to his status-hungry colleagues. He also had to apologize to her. She’d tried to warm him and he’d ignored it. Now he wondered what price he’d have to pay for his cluelessness.
“Cheeky move, Sullivan, even for you,” Darrell Connors said as he joined Kane.
Kane suppressed a flash of irritation. The adjunct professor was as ambitious as they came. If he couldn’t advance on his own merits, he’d rip at someone else’s. There was a reason Connors was still an adjunct and not an assistant professor.
“What are you going on about now?” Kane demanded, craning his neck to catch sight of Nadia. How long did a ladies’ room visit take anyway?
“Bringing your pet project to the faculty party,” Connors said, giving him a look that had Kane clenching his hands into fists. “I’m still trying to decide if that was sheer brilliance or a career-limiting move.”
Connors looked around the ballroom, waving at the assistant dean, who ignored him. “Our fellow faculty members seem split down the middle as far as their opinions go.”
Fuck. Kane took a sip of his drink to hide his burgeoning anger. His fellow faculty members could eat shit for all he cared. “Pet project?”
Connors laughed, and Kane had to fight to keep his Irish in check, before he gave in to the urge to punch the other man so hard he’d have to shit to find his teeth. “Come on, Sullivan—you don’t really expect us to believe that you’re dating that woman with any degree of seriousness, do you? I know she’s a looker, but even good looks can’t erase all the baggage that one comes with. That won’t fly with Herscher’s board. So you must be using her for research. Is she worth it?”
Spice Page 25
