Seducing Mrs. Robinson

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Seducing Mrs. Robinson Page 8

by Rachel Van Dyken


  “Maybe I just have strong pheromones.” I shrugged.

  “Or…” Finn took another bite. “Maybe you’re full of shit?”

  “Shit. He’s full of shit.” Slater sighed. “Look, I’m all about you ending up with the girl, but you can’t just…” He stopped talking and looked like he was looking for the right words. “Engage in sexual play in our dorm room, when she’s still a client.”

  “The hell is sexual play?” I muttered.

  “Don’t make him draw graphic pictures bro, I’m still traumatized from last time.” Finn pointed his coffee cup at me. “The point is if she’s under contract—”

  “—she can’t be under you,” Slater advised helpfully. “Or on top of you, like spooned by you, or I mean if you want to get more complicated—”

  “Please no.” I let out a rough exhale. “I’m sorry, but we were both consenting adults, and I just…” I was contractually screwed, wasn’t I?

  “You were just…” Finn lifted his coffee cup in the air. “…being a horny middle school boy with no manners?”

  I glared. “I always leave my women satisfied.”

  “Ohhhh,” Slater scoffed. “So now the client is… yours?”

  “Yes,” I barked. “Mine. All. Mine.”

  Finn shook his head slowly like he was disappointed in me. “You’re like a kid who’s trying to hoard all the Legos, bro.”

  “At least I do shit with my Legos,” I fired back.

  Slater frowned between the two of us. “Are we still talking about our client, or have you guys just made things weird?”

  I collapsed onto my office chair and spun to face them, leaning my elbows on my thighs. “Look, I’ll talk to her about terminating the contract. It’s not like she hasn’t improved leaps and bounds over the last two days.”

  “Do you hear yourself?” Finn asked. “Two days does not heal years of emotional trauma from an asshole husband. You may think you’re doing her a favor, but you’re swooping in when she’s not ready, which means this can only end one way.”

  “Heartbreak,” Slater finished for him.

  “I won’t break her heart.” I rasped.

  “Bro.” Finn walked over and patted my shoulder. “I wasn’t talking about her.”

  He didn’t need to say anything more as he handed me his coffee mug, grabbed his shower caddy, and left the room.

  “You feel the same way?” I asked Slater without looking up at him.

  I could feel his sigh more than I could hear it, always was an empathetic bastard. “Look.” His messy hair was pointing all over the place as he ran a free hand through it. “I want what’s best for you. We aren’t just friends, we’re family. I just don’t want you to get hurt. She’s older, she wants different things. Yes, I think you should go for it because you’ll regret not going for it, but remember that whole talk about the friend zone?”

  “How could I forget?” I snorted out a laugh.

  His smile was sad. “All right, well, we were talking about the friend zone, you just skipped right to the buffet. Nothing wrong with a little taste, but I know you, it’s not gonna stop there, and she needs more than an orgasm, man.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then you have to be ready to give it to her. If you can’t, walk away before one or both of you get hurt.”

  “I hate when you sound rational,” I grumbled.

  “Right?” He winked and walked past me, only to back up a few steps and ask without making eye contact. “Was it good?”

  “No man.” I sighed in contentment. “It was great.”

  He nodded and walked out of our room.

  I spun back around toward my desk and fired off a text. Screw that whole you text me first rule.

  Me: Hey, want to get coffee later?

  Kora: I can’t.

  My stomach dropped.

  Me: Then why don’t I bring the coffee to you this morning?

  Kora: I don’t have class until three.

  I exhaled and went for it.

  Me: Then I guess that means I’m making a delivery.

  Kora: I’m not ready yet.

  Me: Good. Stay comfortable.

  Kora: I’m not sure…

  Me: Live a little. I’ll be there as soon as I can with coffee and… pastries?

  Kora: WHY DIDN’T YOU OFFER PASTRIES FIRST?

  I barked out a hard laugh.

  Me: My mistake. I’m such an amateur. Lead with sugar, always lead with sugar! IDIOT!

  Kora: And you were doing so good…

  Me: I’ve never been more ashamed in my entire life. I’ll make up for it with all the carbs, and bonus they don’t count because I’ll bless them before I bring them into your house!

  Kora: That works?

  Me: Always.

  Kora: Lies.

  Me: Eat.

  Kora: I am hungry…

  My stomach growled on point.

  Me: Same.

  I almost typed “for you,” but the previous conversation with my guys didn’t exactly have me feeling good about hitting on her that hard less than twenty-four hours after tasting her.

  Kora: Fine… you know where I live.

  And just like that… My day was made.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “When all else fails—feed them. In my opinion, women don’t eat enough, and that’s ridiculous because cupcakes save lives!” — Leo Blackwood

  Kora

  Crap, crap, crap, crap. I sprinted around my messy apartment, throwing away take out from last night. My dirty laundry was everywhere in my bedroom, so I dumped everything, even clothes I wasn’t sure about into the basket and shoved it in the corner, made my bed, then ran into my bathroom, brushed my teeth, and tried to manage my hair.

  I was just about to pull it into a tight ponytail when I remembered what the guys had said about living differently, freer, and instead pulled my hair into a loose braid over my shoulder.

  I was still without any makeup and couldn’t stand my tired expression in the mirror, so I added some cover up, lip gloss, and mascara. I looked like I’d semi-gotten ready but not date-worthy.

  My fluffy candy cane socks were still on, but I loved them, and Stuart loved rubbing against them, so I kept them on and put on a pair of black leggings then completed the look with a gray hoody.

  Good. Enough. Right?

  I was sweating by the time I made it back into my own kitchen and started piling dishes into the dishwasher when the doorbell rang.

  With a grin on my face, I practically sprinted toward my door and swung it open. “That was really fast, you must have—”

  “What?” Chadwick’s grin was cruel. “I must have what?” He shoved the door open. “Expecting company?”

  I gulped and backed away from him. It was a complete habit. “How’d you get my address?”

  “Don’t insult me.” He rolled his eyes. “Money gets you pretty much whatever you want.”

  Except me. He didn’t get to see me. I lifted my chin in defiance as he did a small circle of my nine hundred square foot apartment.

  It was small, a bit dated, but it was mine.

  “Wow,” he croaked. “You live here, and you still want me to sign papers?”

  “Shocking. I know.” I said sarcastically. “Chad, why are you here?”

  His smile was manipulative. “Can’t a man visit his wife?”

  “No.” I gritted my teeth. “And I’m not your wife. We’re separated. And I thought we were meeting next week?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Idiot student of yours. Is he stalking you? Do I need to turn him in to the administration? Because that kid’s been holding a torch for you since he was eighteen, asshole punk.”

  Kid? I wanted to argue that he was anything but.

  He was a man through and through, a man who knew how to use his mouth, his hands, his hard body.

  I inwardly shivered.

  Compare him to Chadwick, and he was a sexual god.

  “Look, I have a meeting with a friend in a
few minutes. It’s private. Anything that you need, you can get through our lawyers.”

  Chad’s jaw twitched. “And the wedding? You’re coming, right? As my plus-one?”

  The charming smile was back, and I was so tired, so damn tired of being used, of being afraid.

  Of being cornered.

  My hands shook. “And I’m still thinking about it.”

  “What’s there to think about?” He circled me; the smell of his spicy perfume made me want to vomit. I was also petrified that he was going to unravel the Burberry scarf from his neck and use it on me, tie me up, tell me it was all fun and games and then make me listen to him while he yelled obscenities at me.

  It wouldn’t be the first time.

  His black Prada shoes clicked against my hardwood floor as he watched me through his thick black glasses.

  “A lot,” I finally said. “I want you to sign the papers, but how do I know you’ll even do it?”

  “I keep my word.”

  My head jerked in his direction. “Funny, I wonder what your word meant when you hit me. Isn’t there a line in your vows about protecting? Loving?”

  He went still. “You were ungrateful, still are.”

  “I’m tired.” My chin wobbled. “Please leave.”

  “And now you’re kicking me out?” He laughed. “Ridiculous that I even came, a man like me shouldn’t have to grovel, most of all to a woman like you.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “You’re a jackass.”

  The back of his hand landed across my cheek so hard that I stumbled to the floor. “I’ll be in touch.”

  And then he was gone.

  I held my throbbing cheek as tears spilled onto the hardwood. I tried to stop them, but the more I tried to hold them in, the more came until I was huddled on the floor with my door still open and what makeup I’d put on completely gone.

  “Kora?” Leo yelled my name. “Wow, door’s open already, you weren’t perchance waiting for me and—”

  His hands were suddenly on me.

  I let out a little yelp, and then I was in his lap. “What the hell? Who did this? What’s going on? Do I need to call the police?” He started examining my head maybe looking for blood, more bruises, I couldn’t find my voice enough to tell him they were mostly on the inside.

  Which was a bit harder to prove in court, wasn’t it?

  “Sweetheart, talk to me, I’m trying not to freak out, but you aren’t using words, and I see tears, and your cheek is swelling.”

  “He—” I found my voice as Leo rocked me, his arms like a vise around my body, holding me safe, close secure. “He came… and things were tense but fine, and he got mad and backhanded me then left.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Leo snarled. Then he added enough curses to make my ears bleed. “Did he touch you anywhere else? Hurt you anywhere else?”

  “N-no.” I sniffled. “No, it just scared me, I was handling it okay, and then I called him an asshole.”

  “Good girl.”

  “And that pissed him off enough to hit me. He’s only ever done it a few times, not hard, but he likes to corner people, and I think he just… lost it.”

  Leo cupped my cheeks, wiping the tears away with his thumbs, he smelled so good, his body was so warm. “What was he doing here anyway? How’d he find you?”

  “Who knows how he found me?” I felt the panic rising in my chest. “He called this last week asking me to be his plus-one for a wedding. It’s going to be the premier event in Seattle, and he wants something nice on his arm. He said he’d sign the final papers if I went, and I hadn’t given him my answer yet.”

  “No.” Leo clenched his jaw, breathing heavily. “The answer is no. Men like that dangle carrots then take them away. It amuses them. Fucking narcissist.”

  I sighed. “Then what do I do? I want to be done!”

  He gave me a helpless look I felt all the way down to my soul. “We’ll figure something out. In the meantime, I’m going to close and lock your door, and then I’m going to shove carbs into your body, so you feel better. That okay with you?”

  I nodded weakly as he helped me to my feet and pulled out one of my kitchen chairs.

  Leo moved around the apartment like a roommate, like he knew exactly where everything was, and something about his graceful movements calmed me down, maybe it was his confidence, maybe it was because he could break Chad in two if he wanted to—whatever it was—it felt good.

  My door was closed.

  Locked.

  And then Leo was sitting across from me, opening up a bag. “Frost Donuts.”

  I groaned. “My favorite.”

  “Same.” He had bought at least a dozen maybe more, of all different sizes, colors, sprinkles. “You have to eat at least one full one, trust me it will make you feel better.”

  You make me feel better. I didn’t say it out loud, but it was on the tip of my tongue.

  His eyes locked with mine as he slid his hand across the table and squeezed my fingertips, then lifted them to his lips and softly pressed a kiss to each finger with such gentleness I almost swooned into a puddle at his feet.

  “Your lips,” I said without thinking. “They feel so warm.”

  “Your fingertips are cold. I think you’re still in shock.” He smiled sadly. “Eat. Before I get gray hair.”

  I laughed at that. “Says the twenty-one-year-old.”

  He frowned. “I’m hurt. Did you forget I was held back? Twenty-two.”

  “Practically one foot in the grave,” I said with an arched brow.

  “It keeps me up at night, really does,” he fired back. “I mean, I get these aches in my hips, scares the shit out of me. How can I please my woman if I can’t even do the right—” he started rolling his hips literally in his seat like he was auditioning for Magic Mike, and I honest to God nearly dropped my donut onto the floor “—movements…”

  “Er…” I gaped. “I think you’re pulling it off, big guy.”

  “Aww…” He put a hand to his chest. “You called me big.”

  Heat flooded my cheeks. “I meant physically!”

  “I know.” He winked.

  “NO!” Panic set in. “I meant as in your body, not your… penis.”

  He sobered and then burst out laughing. “Your blush may be my favorite thing I’ve ever seen,” And then his eyes lowered. “It’s good to have favorites, favorite things, favorite… tastes…”

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath. “I thought this was just coffee and donuts?”

  He took a huge bite out of his maple bar and nodded, mouth full. “It’s both.”

  “Sure…” I nibbled my donut and then reached for one of the coffees. “Black?”

  He made a face. “Real men don’t drink lattes.”

  I smirked. “Well, I’m a girl, so tell me you at least added cream?”

  He scoffed. “My drink…” He took my cup. “Is black coffee.” He swapped our cups. “Your drink is a white chocolate Americano with cream.”

  I scrunched up my nose. “Won’t that be too sweet?”

  “Nope.” He grinned confidently and leaned back in his chair. “It brings out the espresso flavor.”

  I shrugged and took a sip. He was right. It was sweet but balanced out perfectly by the espresso shots and splash of cream. “I think I’m in love.”

  He flinched and then looked down uncomfortably at his hands. “Good. I’m hoping it’s a good distraction.”

  He was more than a distraction; he was dangerous. “It was. It is, I mean.”

  “Good.”

  Silence descended as he watched me, and then he stood and moved behind my chair, placing his hands on my shoulders with just enough pressure that I instantly relaxed. “That feels nice.”

  “For the record, I’m not here to kiss you even though it may be killing me inside… I’m not here to get laid, even though I can promise you it would be the best sexual experience of your life—” I burst out laughing “—don’t knock me until you try me.” He dug his fing
ers in and massaged. “I’m here as a friend, as someone who will listen. Most of all, I’m here as a guy who’s been forced to grow up way too fast, who for the last four years hasn’t forgotten the first woman to make him crush so hard he was afraid he would never recover from her rejection.”

  “You mean Aly?”

  “Kora…”

  “Oh, sorry.” I stared straight ahead, an amused grin on my face. “Samantha?”

  “Don’t make me kiss it out of you…”

  “Ohhhhh, definitely Krystal. She had a thing for you and—”

  In an instant, my chair was tilted back, and his mouth was on mine in an upside-down kiss. It should have felt weird, but our tongues slid against one another like hot velvet with sprinkles on top. I moaned and reached for his neck pulling him closer.

  He broke the kiss shoving the chair upright, and then I was in his arms, exactly where I wanted to be as he kissed all the bad away.

  I clung to his shirt.

  And realized that there was no place I would rather be… than in my student’s arms.

  While he kissed away my pain.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Awkward: See boner while licking frosting. By. Yourself.” — Leo Blackwood

  Leo

  I officially had a hard-on for pink sprinkles and the way they tasted on her tongue. In fact, it was all I could think about in class that next day.

  Her class, to be exact.

  She did a good job of acting completely normal when I was ready to scream at the top of my lungs that I’d had her naked from the waist down.

  My only job yesterday was to make sure that she was distracted, that she didn’t think about the fact that he’d been in her apartment, that he’d touched her. I craved to touch her everywhere, to permanently delete the bastard from her consciousness, but after our make-out session she’d said she needed to grade some papers.

  And that’s how we both ended up at her kitchen table, me writing a paper for her class while she smirked down at a stack of proposals from sophomore seminar and shook her head when I kept encouraging her to fail people.

  A day later, and I was still concerned about her ex.

  About the look on her face and the way she tried to make light of the fact that he’d touched her, but I also knew that it wasn’t a battle I could fight for her.

 

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