Desperate Measures (Men in Uniform #1)

by Sasha Jayne Moretti

  I reached up and touched his cheek. “Nothing would make me happier.”

  “I love you so much,” he replied, leaning down to kiss me. “I can’t imagine anything sexier than having my baby inside of you.”

  His words sent a wave of excitement rippling through me. “I want that too.”

  He increased his speed, plunging harder and deeper than before. The intensity aggravated my sore rib, but I refused to make him stop. After all we’d said, I was desperate for his seed. I clenched my pussy around his cock, squeezing cum right out of his dick. He roared as he burst inside of me. The release flooded my core. With each pulse more came until he pulled out, settling next to me on the bed.

  “Can we stay like this forever?” he asked, still catching his breath.

  I wiped his sweaty brow. I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life like this. As long as we were together, anything seemed possible. Smiling, I replied, “I’m ready if you are.”

  Did you enjoy DESPERATE MEASURES? Would you like to read something a bit dirtier? Check out the first few chapters of GUEST HOUSE.

  Chapter One

  I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  It was the last day of my junior year. All my mid-term exams were finished. I should’ve been packing along with my roommate, Ella. I should’ve been excited about our spring break plans. We’d rented a house for two weeks with some girls from the dorm. Our college campus was located in a small beach town, which was why we chose to stay here and enjoy ourselves. But I wasn’t thinking about any of that. Instead, I was in the financial aid office with my hands over my face as my plans crumbled in front of me. My mind spun, and I wasn’t really sure I heard what she said.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, peeking through my spread fingers.

  The assistance administrator flipped through the paperwork one more time, then sighed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Moore. I wish I had another answer.”

  I stared at the wall of pamphlets and applications. Each one offered a possible solution to my problem. “Is there anything else? Some other grant I can apply for?”

  “All the submission dates have passed.” She tilted her head to the side. “You’ll have to pay the tuition balance some other way.”

  My stomach sunk as the disappointment settled in. I thought about every night I worked in that dingy restaurant. Sometimes, I’d come back to campus so exhausted I could barely stand. But I stayed up to study, determined to make the Dean’s list every semester. I never allowed myself a single splurge. No parties. No extracurricular activities. No dates. No fun. And when it was all over, I’d managed to save a little over five thousand dollars. “I just don’t understand. How can a grant be defunded?”

  She shook her head and I could tell she felt sorry for me. But it was clear she couldn’t do a thing to help me. “It doesn’t happen very often, but sometimes grants are canceled or the money is used for something else.”

  Well, that was that. Nothing more could be done. My plans were canceled and I’d have to spend the next two weeks back on the farm with my parents. My eyes welled with tears. This was supposed to be the best two weeks of my year. An actual vacation without my parents watching over my every move. Finally, I would’ve been able make my own decisions. But that was all over now. I opened my wallet and pulled out my debit card. In a solemn tone, I said, “You can use this to pay the balance.”

  She handed me a slip, and pointed to the nearby hallway. “Take this to the cashier.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. Goodbye, fun spring break. And hello, nothing special. I took the paper from her. “Thanks.”

  After I drained the majority of my savings, I had just over two hundred dollars left. I made my way toward the cafeteria and bought a latte. Closing my eyes, I savored the warm caramel flavor flowing down my throat. What was I going to do now? How was I going to explain this to my friends? They counted on my portion of the money for the rental. I let out a disappointed sigh. There was no point in putting it off. I had to tell them now. As I headed down the hallway, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and started to text. It was better to let them know as soon as possible so they could find someone else to fill my spot.

  Taking another sip, I tried to think of the right words. I turned the corner and bounced off someone’s hard chest. Papers flew in the air. As my butt hit the cold flooring, the latte spilled all over the front of my white low-cut tank top and jean shorts. I groaned. Seriously, this was the worst day ever. “Watch where you’re walking,” I shouted.

  “Sorry about that,” he replied, attempting to help me to my feet. “Are you okay?”

  “You just poured hot coffee down my cleavage. What do you think?” I shooed him away with my hand as I maneuvered onto my knees and eventually to my feet. When I stood, I looked to see who had run into me. I recognized him immediately and the panic set in. Oh, God. I just yelled at my literature professor, Mr. Bateman—or as the girls in the dorm called him, Professor Hottie. “I’m so sorry, Professor. It was my fault. I wasn’t looking.”

  “Wait here,” he replied, holding up his hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  I watched as he strode back toward the cafeteria. It wasn’t long before the other female students noticed him. He was impossible to miss. Professor Bateman stood over six feet tall with stacked muscles and a chiseled jawline. His chestnut-brown hair hung below his chin, and his eyes were an otherworldly shade of hunter green. He looked more surfer boy than college professor. All he had to do was glance in my direction, and my body would ache in places that no man had ever touched.

  I squirmed in my seat every time.

  He couldn’t be more than thirty-five at the most. I always thought you had to be super-old to get a teaching position at a college. Most of my other professors were balding and had pictures of their grandchildren in their offices. Professor Bateman must’ve graduated from an elite master’s program or he had major connections.

  He sprinted back to me holding a handful of napkins. He handed me a bunch, but caught me off guard when he began to pat my wet, coffee-stained chest.

  His touch sent a sizzle of heat to my core. I imagined what those thick fingers would’ve felt like on my bare skin. My nipples poked through my soaked shirt and I cringed. Could this moment get any more embarrassing? “It’s fine. I’ve got it, Professor Bateman.”

  He froze when he realized he had his hands all over my breasts, and put the rest of the napkins in my hand. “Of course. My apologies.”

  “No need for that,” I said, still wiping my shirt. “I was texting when we collided. I should’ve been paying better attention.”

  He bent down to collect the papers scattered all over the floor. The first piece he picked up was dripping with coffee. “Great.”

  And it appeared to be unreadable. “Was that one important?”

  “It’s the results from the mid-term exam.” He shook his head. “I was just about to post them online.”

  Excitement built in my belly. I haven’t seen any results from any of my courses. This definitely wasn’t the right moment, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “How did I do?”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Right.” I bit my lip. “Not a good time to ask.”

  “You got a near perfect score, Taryn.” He smiled. “Just like the rest of your grades in my class.”

  I spent all my free time with my head buried in a book. If I wasn’t working, I was either asleep or studying. Which clearly explained my lack of a social life. I’d been asked on a few dates, but I rejected every one. There was no time for anything else. All my fun was supposed to happen over the next two weeks. At least, that’s what I’d promised myself. “Well, it’s good to know I have one thing going for me.”

  He cocked his head to the side, looking as if he were surprised by my answer. “What do you mean?”

  I couldn’t tell Professor Hottie about my problems. He was just asking to be nice. No one ever really wanted to hear the truth. “I’m not going t
o bother you with my drama.”

  He crossed his muscular forearms over his chest. “No, I want to know.”

  I let out a long sigh. I guess it didn’t matter at this point. “The short version is one of my grants fell through and I had to pay the balance with my savings. Like, basically all my savings. And now I have to cancel my spring break plans because all I have left is two hundred dollars.”

  Resting his hand on the wall, he lowered his gaze down so that our eyes were level. “Were you going somewhere special?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck tingled. We’d never been this close before. I tried not to look obvious as I took in a deep breath. His cologne smelled woodsy and especially manly on him. “I rented a beach house with my friends. I saved every penny I earned for the entire year and now it’s gone. I have no choice but to go back home to Missouri.”

  “I’m really sorry to hear that.” He put his hand on my shoulder and lightly squeezed. I doubted he meant for the gesture to feel intimate, but his touch made every nerve-ending in my body sizzle. “It sounds like this vacation meant a lot to you.”

  “Yes, it did,” I said, enjoying the moment way more than I should. “It really did.”

  “Maybe there’s something I can do.” He pulled a card out of his back pocket and handed it to me. “Why don’t you stop by our house tonight? My wife is making lasagna. In my experience, carbs can resolve almost any problem.” He pointed at the card. “My home address is on the back.”

  The moment simmered as soon as he mentioned his wife. Of course he was married. No one that sexy stayed single for long. I’d bet she looked like a model out of some fashion magazine. Hell, she was probably even hotter than him. I got myself under control and tried to focus on what he said. “Are you sure that’s okay?” My eyebrows furrowed. “I mean, you’re my professor.”

  “I was your professor.” He shrugged. “But now you’re on break.”

  I guess he was technically right. Classes were over for two weeks. And it wasn’t like a date or anything. His wife was cooking for us. Seemed innocent, and he’d said he might be able to help me. Not to mention the carbs. My stomach growled. A homemade meal sounded amazing right now. “As long as it’s okay with your wife, I’m cool with it.”

  “She’ll love it,” he assured me, as I helped him collect the rest of his papers off the floor. “Come by around seven o’clock. Okay?”

  “Thanks, Professor.” I waved as he strolled down the hallway. A group of girls followed him with their eyes and whispered to each other once he was gone. I smiled to myself. Every girl noticed what a beautiful piece of man-candy he was. But none of them had a chance. That gorgeous man was taken.

  The good ones always were.

  Chapter Two

  “Taryn, you can’t be serious.”

  Ella, my roommate, grumbled. She tucked a piece of ginger-red hair behind her ear as she paced the room. “We’ve been planning this since the beginning of the year. You can’t back out now.”

  I tugged my coffee-stained shirt off and threw it in a nearby trashcan. All the bleach in the world wouldn’t save that thing. My pink lace bra managed not to get stained, which was nice. I slipped off my jean shorts, tossed them in the hamper. A few years ago, I was too shy to get undressed in front of her. Or anyone else for that matter. But after seeing her naked half a dozen times, I got used to the idea that it was normal. She’d done so much for me since we met freshman year. Helping me open up and let loose every once in a while. And now we were basically inseparable. “I want to go, but the money is gone.”

  “This sucks,” she grumbled. “Like on an epic level.”

  “I know.” I stood in front of my closet as I searched for something comfy to wear. All her clothes were gone. Packed away in one of the many boxes that filled our tiny room. My side was still intact because I’d done zero packing. Even my posters of Einstein sticking his tongue out and shirtless Zac Efron were still on the walls. I should’ve spent the last few hours getting my stuff together. But the call from the financial aid office changed everything.

  “And no one can help you?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. “What about your parents?”

  “They can’t afford it. They’re still making payments on my older brother’s tuition.” I always had the best grades in the family. My parents never put money away for me because they knew I’d get scholarships and grants. They were right. I had enough to pay for my full tuition. None of us ever thought something like this could happen. “I won’t even consider asking them.”

  “I’ll give you the money.” She reached for her purse and flashed her father’s credit card. “Daddy won’t mind if you pay me back.”

  Ella was used to getting her way. She came from money, and even looked like money with her designer clothes, professionally colored hair, and weekly manicure and pedicure. Her olive skin was perfection—never once had I seen her with a single blemish. Every guy in campus wanted her and she knew it. She was a terrible flirt, but I kind of liked that about her. She made me laugh even when she didn’t mean to. “There’s no way I could,” I insisted.

  “You could get your old job back.” She fiddled with the card in her hand. “You know he’d rehire you in a second.”

  Jim was a great manager, but it took me all year to save that money and I nearly killed myself doing it. I couldn’t go through that again. I had too many important courses coming up. My future was riding on those grades and I needed to focus. “That’s not going to be an option next year.”

  Her shoulders sank like a deflated balloon. “So where are you going to go?”

  “Home.” I shrugged. Once I was back on the farm, I’d be milking cows, chasing pigs, feeding chickens, and collecting eggs. Farm work was never finished. And my parents needed all the help they could get. I was actually surprised they were going to let me stay here for spring break. I’d gone home every other year. “They’ll keep me busy. Trust me.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” she asked.

  My thoughts exactly.

  Chapter Three

  According to Google maps, the Batemans lived less than a mile from campus.

  It was a beautiful day and I decided to walk. Their neighborhood was surrounded by trees and had a private gate entrance. A man sat in a small station. He had to call them to get approval to let me in. Once I was inside, I was shocked by the size of the houses. They were massive, and I guessed they were each worth at least a half million dollars. Definitely not the kind of place I expected a professor to live in. Weren’t teachers paid really low salaries? It must’ve been different at the college level.

  After I double-checked the address on the back of the card, my mouth hung open when I confirmed I stood in front of their house. It was a brick single-family detached home with a three-car garage and huge fence-enclosed backyard. I made my way up the long driveway while I admired their immaculate landscape. The grass was emerald green without any bald spots or weeds. All of the plants were lush with an exotic appeal. All the shrubbery was evenly cut, and every flower seemed to be in bloom. A professional lawn company had to be taking care of it.

  When I reached the front door, I glanced down at my outfit. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was supposed to wear for our dinner, but I thought I should look nice. I settled on a floral dress with a pink cardigan sweater and sandals. Beyond my t-shirts and jeans, I only had a couple of pieces to choose from. But now that I stood on their front porch, I felt completely underdressed. This dress was way too short. And the top showed off too much cleavage. God, what was his wife going to think of me?

  I tugged on the bottom of the hem, hoping I’d stretch the dress so it appeared longer. It didn’t work. I tried to tuck in my breasts, pushing my mounds further into the built-in cups. That didn’t work either. I pulled the sweater closed, but that made the buttons stretch. Although I was a size four, I had fairly large boobs. I couldn’t hide them. That was impossible. I let out an irritated moan. There was nothing I could do. Since I
had no other choice, I rang the doorbell. I fidgeted as I waited for someone to answer.

  Professor Bateman opened the door, looking more casual than usual. He wore a tight black t-shirt that accentuated his impressive upper body, and dark jeans. Shifting to the side, he said, “Hey, Taryn. Come on in.”

  “Hi, Professor.” As I stepped inside, I thought I caught him checking me out. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like his eyes lowered to my overly-exposed chest. The possibility made me tingle all over. Smiling, he followed behind me as I made my way inside.

  I glanced around in awe.

  The interior of the house was just as spectacular as the exterior. My sandals clicked against the dark hardwood floors. To my left, I saw the formal dining room. The design was art deco with very few furnishings. It was meant to be simple but still managed to appear expensive. On my right, there was a sitting room with plush sofas that were so flawless they seemed to be brand new. The walls were painted a shade of peach with three abstract paintings hanging in a straight line.

  Everything was just so perfect. Had anyone really lived here? “Thanks again for inviting me.”

  “It’s our pleasure.” He motioned toward the kitchen. “My wife is looking forward to meeting you.”

  All the appliances were stainless steel and the counters were a dark granite. Leaning over a large island, I met eyes with his wife. This woman was beyond stunning. In heels, I stood around five-six. His wife had to be close to that size, but she was barefoot. And I was right about her looking like a supermodel. In a loose sky-blue pleated dress, she appeared as if she just stepped off the runway. Her toned body put my curves to shame. Her high cheekbones and full lips reminded me of a Greek goddess sculpture I’d seen once in a museum.

  My nipples hardened, which made me blush.

  I couldn’t help it.

  This woman was incredibly beautiful. I’d always been into boys, but there had been times that I’d been attracted to women. I’d always thought a naked female was much prettier to look at than a man. I imagined what it might be like to touch another woman’s silky skin. And I’d even wondered what it felt like to kiss a woman. Would her lips be as soft as mine? Would I like it better? Would I want to do more than just kiss? I shook it off as silly thoughts. I’d never act on it.