“Well, as a newly single girl, you can use this opportunity to network with potential dates.”
The glare she shoots at me tells me she’s not amused. “Just finish your hair,” she groans.
My lips tilt up in a knowing smirk at her silly remark. I decide to leave my hair half down and pin the rest up with a red and silver clip. I complete the look by curling the ends and hair spraying it. I apply my makeup as usual—smoky eyes and red lips.
“Ready?” she asks, leaning up against the wall. I try to hide the smile that’s forming on my face at the fact that she can’t sit. She’s been standing there waiting for me for at least a half hour.
“All ready.”
“Finally. I was about to pass out.”
“Are you sure you want to wear that?”
She checks the time on her phone. “Even if I did want to change, there’s no time. We have to be there in five minutes.”
I grab my clutch off the table and follow her out. The event is from six to ten, but Ms. Jones wants us there an hour early.
“It’ll be a miracle if I last all night in these heels.” She sighs, cautiously stepping down the staircase.
“You get used to them.”
“Oh, I’m sure people who have long, tone legs and petite feet really have to struggle with wearing heels.”
I groan at her bad attitude and remark. “That’s it…we’re hitting the open bar first.”
“Now we’re talking.”
I know Professor Hampton is going to be at the event, but nothing could’ve prepared me for how I’d feel the moment I first saw him in his sleek, black tuxedo, crisp white shirt, and smooth black tie. He looks flawless, and I find it hard to not fantasize about running my hands down his chest just to see what he’d do.
Butterflies build in my stomach as I clench my thighs together at the thought of his lips on mine again. His hair is combed back, the sides trimmed short. He looks like he came straight out of a GQ magazine, and I want to subscribe to every issue.
I pretend that I’m not looking at him or memorizing every inch of his solid body. I keep my eyes low and my head slanted just enough to keep him in my peripheral vision. He’s talking with one of the bartenders, laughing and already holding a drink in his hand.
A drink. That’s exactly what I need.
“Aspen!”
Or not.
I turn around and see Ms. Jones speed walking with her arms flailing right toward me, Christine chasing after her with a frazzled look on her face. “Hi!” I smile at the pair. Ms. Jones is a walking, talking bundle of nerves, and poor Christine looks like she’s just trying to hold on for dear life
“Thank goodness you’re here.”
“Everything okay?”
She’s panting, and I can tell she’s about to have a nervous breakdown. “No. I mean, yes. Well, kind of. I’m just freaking out a little.”
Christine stares pointedly at me, eyes wide while she mouths a little? It takes everything I have not to giggle, tamping down the humor I give Ms. Jones my undivided attention.
“Okay, well, what can I do to help?”
“I just need you two to make sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to be doing.”
“Well, of course, we will.”
“We have some very important people from the community coming and everything needs to be perfect.”
I place my hands on her shoulders and look her straight in the eyes. “It will be, okay? Everything is planned to the last detail. Christine and I have it under control. This is your event. Enjoy it.”
She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Right. Okay, thank you.”
I release her shoulders and smile. “Anytime.” I wink before she walks off, Christine trailing behind her, my words going right over her head.
Kendall walks over to me with two drinks in her hand and a sly smirk on her lips. “What’s that look?” I ask.
She hands me a glass of champagne. “Nothing.” She lowers her eyes as takes a sip, and I know she’s full of shit.
I glance behind her and notice the other bartender that’s setting up is staring right at her ass. “Nothing…right,” I drawl with an over-exaggerated tone. “So are you ready to schmooze for the next four hours?”
She sighs. “As long as there’s a drink in my hand at all times.”
I purse my lips together and finally realize the issue. “You miss him,” I say softly.
She shrugs, avoiding eye contact with me. It’s been two weeks since Kellan broke up with her, and I’ve been so busy with my own drama that I haven’t even been paying attention to the pain she was feeling from it.
“Tonight, we drink away our inhibitions.” I clink my glass with hers. “Tomorrow, we pay for it.” I smile when I finally get a laugh out of her.
“Deal.”
I finish my glass and set it back down. The doors are going to open soon, and I need to get my head into the game. I’ll be the attendant in the America in the Thirties Exhibit. Each exhibit has an attendant available to help push sales and be ready to answer questions about the paintings.
Kendall isn’t as familiar with the exhibits, so she’s placed by the front doors, welcoming everyone to the event and directing them to the silent auction, bar, and food.
I decide to use the restroom quickly before the doors open. My heart races as I walk down the hall, and I know if I don’t take a few minutes to breathe it out, I’ll only feel worse as the night goes on. I usually live for these events. I love talking to other people about art and hearing their interpretations on the pieces. It’s these events that make juggling school and work worth it. But having Professor Hampton here is making me more nervous than usual.
“Aspen…” I hear his deep hoarse voice before I see him. I spin around and face him as he walks toward me.
“Hi, Professor Hampton.” I nervously chew my lip. “You look great. Black suits you.” I grin.
His lips form into a shy smile as he brushes his fingers over the stubble covering his jawline. He steps closer. “What did I say about calling me that outside of the classroom?” His eyes travel from my eyes to my lips and my body shivers in anticipation of feeling his hands on me again.
“Oh, right.” I swallow. “Sorry…I’m just… you make me a little nervous,” I admit and wish I could stop rambling.
His hand reaches out and caresses my cheek. I press my face into his palm and my eyes flutter closed. I feel his other hand wrap around my waist and close the gap between us.
My eyes open just as I feel his breath against my lips. “You make me more than nervous, Aspen Evans.” He leans down and brushes his lips softly against mine. “You look absolutely breathtaking, by the way. Simply gorgeous. It’s going to be impossible to keep my eyes off you all night.”
“Then don’t.” I press my lips to his, craving just a taste of him. I know we’re alone in the hallway, but I a part of me still feels anxious at the thought of getting caught.
Although it makes kissing my professor that much more exciting.
He takes a step forward, making me take a step back. He takes another and another and soon my back is pressed firmly against the wall. His mouth moves more aggressively, pulling my lower lip in between his and sucking it lightly before pressing his tongue against mine. I wrap my arms around him, feeling his taut muscles against my fingers.
I moan into his mouth and as soon as he hears it, his hips grind against me and pin me to the wall in a blistering hot kiss.
“Morgan…” I say on a soft whimper.
“Say it again,” he demands against my lips.
“Morgan,” I whisper. He grabs my wrists and lifts my arms over my head against the wall.
He moves his mouth down my jaw and lands on my neck. My arms tighten around him, feeling his arousal against my lower stomach. I fight the urge to reach down and wrap my fingers around him. My body shivers, both in excitement and nerves. His lips travel up to my ear and he sweetly pulls it in between his lips.
“Jesus Christ…” he growls in my ear.
I feel his lips form into a knowing grin as he presses one last kiss against the flesh of my neck. “Just when I was trying to talk myself out of taking advantage of you, I’m reminded that you may be the one taking advantage of me.”
“No one said willpower was easy.” I wink and he lets out a soft laugh.
“Screw willpower.” He kisses me once more before the voices from the front get louder. “Shit.”
“I think we have to get back to civilization.”
“Unfortunately.” He frowns. He takes a couple of steps back giving me room to adjust myself. I comb my fingers through my hair and fix my lipstick. My lips feel swollen, and I’m sure someone is going to notice.
I decide I should walk back first to avoid any suspicions. My heart is nearly beating out of my chest, but not because of the reasons before. This reason is a much better excuse. I look over my shoulder and see his eyes fixed on me as I walk away. “Find me later, Professor.” I wink and confidently walk away.
The only thought in my mind as I walk back to the front is how much I want to kiss him again…and again and again, and how I want to do much more than kissing.
Screw rules and consequences. I don’t want meaningless one-night stands anymore.
I want someone who understands me on a deeper level. Someone who’s passionate about what I’m passionate about. Someone who could grasp the pain and emotional baggage I carry around.
I want that someone to be him—Morgan Hampton.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MORGAN
I don’t know what came over me, but the moment my lips touched hers again, I was helpless to stop. Seeing her in that tight red dress that hugs her curves like a second skin, add the plunging neckline that accentuates her perfect breasts, and I was a goner. On a normal day, I was out of control around her, but this threw me straight over the edge.
I’m drawn to her and refuse to fight it any longer. Knowing she feels the same way has me itching to get her alone again.
Aunt Mel is furiously bouncing around, double and triple checking that everything is set to go. I know she’s a perfectionist, so I pull her aside. “Where can I help?”
“Oh, Morgan.” She sighs. “You’re here to enjoy. Don’t you worry.”
I eye her suspiciously. “Let me help.”
“Well, jump in anywhere if you insist.” She finally smiles. “Just don’t forget to have fun, too.” She winks and leans in to kiss me on the cheek. I plan to enjoy myself, just not the way she’s probably thinking.
Soon the doors open and people swarm in. I walk in between people, greeting and welcoming them to the event. I keep my eyes out for Aspen, wanting any excuse to look at her. She looks completely flawless, smiling and chatting. I hear a sweet laugh come from her, which completely lights up the room. I wish I could wrap my arm around her and claim her for everyone to see. But I know I can’t, and I know I sound ridiculous for even wanting to claim her, but I can’t help the way she affects me.
I haven’t felt this way in years, and I feel high just thinking about it. There’s no doubting that everything about her consumes me. I’ve been infatuated with her for weeks and now that I know what her lips and body pressed against me feels like, I only want more. More of her.
Everything is going amazing until I see that douchebag, Shane, walk up to her. She keeps her eyes low, but his hand on her arm doesn’t go unnoticed. In fact, my blood boils at just the sight of him.
I hate that she even gives him the time of day, but I know we can’t go public with whatever we are. It’s too new to even discuss it at this point. However, that doesn’t mean I want to watch another guy draped all over her.
After a few minutes of balling my hands into fists, I decide to interrupt their little chat. I grab two champagne glasses off a tray and walk over to her. “You looked like you could use a drink.”
“Well, thank you,” she says, grabbing it and turning her body toward me.
Shane clears his throat and grabs Aspen’s attention back. “Oh, Morgan, this is Shane. Shane this is Morgan, Ms. Jones’ nephew.” I don’t want to be anywhere near the guy, especially not touch him, but I plaster a fake smile and shake the moron’s hand.
“Ah, the nephew. Explains why you’re here then.”
We release hands, and I furrow my brows. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, nothing.” His eyes scan over me and then move to Aspen, his lips tilting up into a knowing smirk.
What the fuck does that mean?
“You’re working at the school, right?” he asks as if to throw it in my face.
“He’s my art professor,” Aspen interrupts. Although she means to take the focus off me, she ends up only encouraging him.
“Well, you know what they say? Those that can’t do, teach.” He pats me on the shoulder with a tight squeeze and excuses himself.
My eyes narrow as I watch him walk away. If I didn’t have an appearance to uphold, I’d punch him until I saw blood.
“Ignore him,” Aspen says, annoyance in her tone. “He’s an idiot.”
“Clearly.”
She cocks her head and a small smile surfaces. “Seriously…he’s not even worth being pissed over. He’s a decent guy normally, but he’s just mad I won’t go out with him.”
“You won’t?” My brow arches. Does that mean he sees me as a threat then?
“Don’t act so surprised. I do have standards, you know.” She grins.
“Good to know.” I take a sip of my champagne and continue staring at her.
“I have to get to my exhibit. People are starting to wonder around and Ms. Jones will have a mini heart attack if I don’t get a few buyers.”
“Well, you’d have a buyer in me, but I can’t seem to find what I’m looking for.”
“Is that so?” she asks as the realization hits, biting her lip. “You wanted to buy one of mine?”
“Of course. I’d only been asking you to put a piece in for the past month.” I know the student pieces aren’t for sale, but I would’ve made Ms. Jones make an exception for me.
“Well, you could’ve told me. Or just asked.”
I lean in and softly whisper in her ear, “And what fun would that have been?” I lean back and wink at her.
I sip back the last of my drink and walk back through the crowd. I know she has a job to do so I busy myself with the silent auction.
An hour passes since I’ve felt her body against mine, rather pinned her against the wall and made love to her lips, and yet I’m anxious to be near her again. I want to know what she’s doing, what she’s thinking, and if she’s thinking the same thing I am.
Kissing her feels like an addiction—one I don’t ever want to recover from. It felt different from before—much more intense and passionate. It’s validated everything I’ve been wondering about.
Walking around from painting to painting with a glass of champagne in my hand, a tap on my shoulder grabs my attention. I spin around and nearly lose my grip on the stem of the glass when I see her.
“Hi, stranger.” She flashes a small smile and my jaw ticks at the sweetness of her voice.
“What are you doing here, Jen?” I hiss, keeping my voice low.
“I had a ticket. Small world.”
I clench my teeth together. “Not that small.”
“Your mother told me you’d be here. Aunt Mel put my name on the list.”
I swallow back the rest of the champagne before setting it down. “Well, have a good time.” I take a step to walk around her, but she grabs me by the arm and pushes me back. “What are you doing?”
“I just want to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“After being gone for five years, there’s plenty to talk about.”
I sigh, ir
ritated she’s cornered me, but I don’t want to make a scene so I agree. “You have five minutes.”
She flashes a victorious smile, but I ignore it. She follows me out into a quiet hall in the back of the gallery.
“Okay, so what is it?” I shove my hands in my front pockets and lean away from her.
“You look really good, Morgan.”
“Cut the shit, Jen.”
“Wow…” She shakes her head. “Even after five years, you still hate me.”
“What were you expecting?”
“Maybe some understanding?”
My brows arch. “Understanding? You want me to understand why you decided to fuck around on me?”
“You were gone, Morgan! All the time! All you did was work and when you weren’t working, you were painting. For hours!”
“That’s your excuse? Hard work and dedication are your reasoning for cheating?” I choke a pathetic laugh.
“You never made time for me. You never made time for us! I tried to tell you. I tried talking to you, but you never wanted to leave the house.”
“That’s not true. Plus, if I wasn’t working, who’d you expect to pay off your student loans?”
“You still could’ve made time for us. It was as if you just gave up.” Her features soften, and I know she’s about to release the waterworks any minute.
“No,” I say sternly. “You’re the one who gave up. You’re the one who went behind my back and screwed Ryan. You’re the one who broke us, not me.” I don’t even know why I’m entertaining this conversation. It’s one I’d been trying to avoid this whole time.
I start to walk away, but she pleads for me to stay. “Don’t go! I’m sorry, okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. A lot of good that does me now.”
“Your mother’s been able to forgive me. Why can’t you?”
I spin around and face her. “Because I’m not that dense,” I say harshly, my eyes cold and empty as I hear her pathetic pleas.
“I’m not here for me, I swear.” I look down and notice the impressive diamond on her left hand. I imagined for years what it’d feel like to run into her again after all this time, but one thing I wasn’t counting on was having an audience nearby. But now it didn’t matter. I can look at her and not feel a single thing for her. Those feelings I once had for her are long gone, which have been replaced with resentment and anger.
Pushing the Limits: A Student/Teacher Romance Page 16
