by S. E. Law
Tyler looks flustered, but he recovers quickly.
“Nothing,” he says. “It’s all good, honey. Now that I’ve finished this stew,” he says, sopping up the last of the brown gravy with his bread, “I should get going. Are you going to be okay home alone tonight?”
He stands at the table, and I rise as well. Tyler heads over to the front door and grabs his jacket off the hook before slipping it onto his broad shoulders.
“Of course,” I say, leaning into his embrace for a hug. “Everything’s fine, Daddy. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
I feel like my dad holds me close for a second too long, but maybe it’s just my imagination. When we pull away, there’s a flicker of emotion in his dark blue eyes, but it disappears just as quickly as it appeared.
“Okay sweetheart,” he says, pulling the door open. “I’m off to Layla’s then. Have a good time with your toy tonight.”
I stand at the open door and wave as Tyler gets onto his motorcycle.
“Of course, Daddy! You too!”
My dad pulls the bike onto the street and then waves one last time before zooming off into the distance. I watch as his massive form grows small and then shut the door with a deep breath.
That was definitely a strange conversation. Yes, Tyler and I are close, but that was a weird conversation even for us. I basically said goodbye to him as he left to hook-up with his girlfriend, whereas he just gave me a vibrator as a gift. It’s not even my birthday! And why would he give me something like this anyways?
But I know my dad has always taken fatherhood seriously, and this is just the latest incarnation of his efforts. He wants to do a good job, and he wants to protect me while also introducing me to the world. I get it. Tyler has to play the role of mom and dad at once, and it’s not an easy load to bear.
But now, I’m all alone in our house, and my eyes swing involuntarily to the brown box still lying on the kitchen table. Do I really want to try it? Why not? It could be fun, and just the thing to help me relax after that bizarre interaction.
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To be continued …
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Sneak Peek: Daddy’s Christmas Gift
Aria
Will Aria’s handsome, hunky professor be able to keep his hands off the curvy girl? It’s a forbidden professor-student romance filled with pleasure.
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I knock hesitantly on the wooden door again. There’s a frosted pane of glass in the middle of the door, but the shade on the other side is drawn, rendering it dark.
“Professor Moore?” I call. “It’s office hours, isn’t it? It’s Aria Nelson.”
Suddenly, the door opens so quickly that I step back with surprise. Or maybe it’s the fact that Professor Moore is absolutely huge, close-up and in person. After all, I’ve always watched him from a distance as a figure at the front of the classroom. But now that the man is before me, a mere three feet away, the air zooms from my lungs as I tilt my head up to gaze into those navy blue eyes.
Because Roland must be six three at least. He towers over me, his large bulk looming over my small one. He seems to blot out the light within, and his shoulders are so wide that they appear to reach from one side of the doorframe to the other. But then he steps aside to let me in, and grins, flashing bright white teeth.
“Hi Aria,” he says mildly. “Just in time. It’s two on the dot, and I was just about to open my door.”
I step in hesitantly and look around. His office is tiny, but it’s to be expected. This building hasn’t been upgraded in years, and the dilapidation shows. There’s one tiny window up high behind his desk, but all it reveals are the green leaves of a massive bush. A metal desk is positioned in front of the window, and there’s a chair in front of the desk for visitors as well as a cheery red rug on the floor. But what takes my breath away are the shelves and shelves of books lining the walls because Roland Moore obviously reads a lot. Even though this is a small space, he’s outfitted his office such that all four walls have floor to ceiling shelving crammed full of all sorts of novels.
“Wow,” I breathe, stepping inside. “Are these all yours?”
He chuckles while shutting the door behind me.
“Most,” he acknowledges. “Fiction and non-fiction both. Sometimes I read some non-fiction, but it’s strictly for pleasure. For work, it’s all fiction.”
I laugh, seating myself in the chair before his desk.
“That’s funny because for most people it’s the opposite. Professional reading is usually boring non-fiction, while people read novels for fun in their spare time.”
Roland quirks a grin at me and takes a seat behind his desk. The light in the office is bright, but it’s warm at the same time and casts his skin in shades of bronze. My mouth goes dry when I see the slight vee of chest revealed at the collar of his shirt, and the strong neck rising up above it. Oh my gosh, am I actually going daffy at the sight of a man’s neck? Am I that desperate?
The truth is, yes. Because while Elisa drags me to a lot of parties, I don’t exactly date. Sure, there are boys hovering around at the edges of my life, and I even went with George Littles to that fraternity dance last year. But nothing happened because George was too awkward. He kept trying to carry a conversation, but puberty came late for him and his voice would crack embarrassingly in the middle of every other sentence. By the end of the night, I think he was happy to see me go, if only so that he could go back to his room and let his vocal cords relax.
So the truth is that I don’t really date here at the University of Rhode Island. Not that I want to. The boys that Elisa brings home when she thinks I’m sleeping are gross. They moan and bump around in her tiny twin bed across the room, and most times, I pretend I’m asleep. There’s nothing sexy about teenage boys amped up high on testosterone, I tell you. The longest they can last is about three minutes, and that’s being generous.
But Professor Moore is the real thing. This is no adolescent boy who’s growing into his features. This is a true alpha male, with a piercing blue gaze, and a sense of knowingness about him. I can already tell that Roland knows his way around women from the commanding yet relaxed way he sits in his chair. Even the idle thrum of his fingertips on the metal desktop reminds me that I’m here to see him, and that he’s the one in charge.
But Roland cracks another grin, even as the blue of his eyes turns a deep navy.
“So Aria,” he begins casually. “What can I help you with?”
I stammer a bit, flushing.
“Um, I thought you wanted to talk about The Green Ribbon?” I ask hesitantly. “You know, the first short story in Her Body.”
Nodding, Roland gazes away for a moment while steepling his fingers.
“Yes, that’s right,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. “I liked your comment in class, and wanted to probe further. Why did you say that the author portrays the female protagonist as a wanton woman? What made you think that?”
I gasp.
“I didn’t say she was wanton,” is my quick reply. “In fact, I don’t think she’s a slut at all. She was married to the man who pulled the green ribbon.”
Roland quirks an eyebrow at me.
“You don’t think a married woman can be a slut? Does a wedding certificate mean that a woman can no longer be loose, so to say?”
I flush again, stammering a bit.
“Well, I’m not sure,” are my slow words. “I suppose so. No, that doesn’t sound right. All I’m saying is that the female character seems to be very familiar with her own body, and makes it available for her husband’s pleasure to do whatever he likes. Is that going too far?”
Roland’s eyes gleam, and he leans forward a bit, adjusting his weight.
“I don’t know. Is letting a man do what he wants with your body going too far? I’m not sure either.”
I nod, my heart racing at this titillating conversation.
“I mean, on the one hand, the main character maintains total control ove
r her actions. She chooses what to give to her husband, and shares herself with him unstintingly. But there was just something so … slutty about what she did, don’t you think? Do normal women do that?”
Roland leans forward again, a gleam in the depths of his blue eyes. His shoulders look slightly tense and very broad as his eyes scan my features.
“I’m not sure,” he says slowly. “Do you consider yourself to be a normal woman?”
My cheeks color.
“Yes, of course,” I say in a rush. “I mean, everyone is abnormal in some way. Take my hair, for example. Most babies are born with blonde hair and then it darkens as they age, but mine didn’t,” I say, blabbering at about a thousand miles an hour. “I’m still as fair as the day I was born, and in fact, I think my hair’s gotten even more blonde with time.”
Roland’s eyes gleam again, but his expression remains placid and neutral.
“Is that right, Aria? Could you take your hair down to show me? I’m afraid I can’t tell very well since it’s all twisted up right now.”
I flush. Somehow, this feels very intimate, although I’m hardly Rapunzel letting down her hair for a suitor.
“Oh sure,” I say while biting my lip. My heart’s going a million miles an hour, and somehow, I’m aroused and hot even though I’m not doing anything but dismantling my bun. “No problem, Professor.”
With trembling fingers, I reach up and fumble a bit before sinking my fingers into the elastic and pulling it from my tresses. Immediately, a long fall of gold streams from my crown before lying in a river against my back. It shimmers and waves beneath the light, as if it has a life of its own.
“There it is,” I say with a small smile. “See? I even have streaks of white, almost like an albino,” I manage as a joke.
But Professor Moore is silent, and for a moment, I think I’ve screwed up. Holy shit, I probably just crossed some kind of unspoken boundary, and he’s going to report me to the authorities now. At the very least, things are going to be extremely awkward from here on out.
But then, he gets up from his chair and circles around until he’s standing behind me, his big bulk large and imposing. Then he gets down on his knees as I remain as still as a doe, and lightly trails a big hand over my tresses.
“So beautiful,” he whispers. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”
My insides go hot and soft, and I inhale sharply. Oh my gosh, Professor Roland is stroking my hair gently now while running his fingers through the golden locks, and I’ve never been so aroused in my life. He hasn’t even really touched me yet, and suddenly, I know that I want to give my innocence to him. I want him to take me right here, in his office, and with a mewl, I turn slowly to face him.
“I’m yours, Professor,” I say softly. And then echoing the character in the book, I add, “Use my body as you see fit.”
The handsome instructor doesn’t even hesitate. In one fell swoop, his mouth claims mine, his lips hard and demanding as my soft ones part beneath his insistence. The air departs from my lungs even as he pulls me against the massive wall of his chest.
“Are you sure, Aria?” he growls deep in his throat before pulling away to stare in my eyes. “Because once we go there, we’re not going back.”
I look into those navy depths for a moment, my heart pounding. But I already know with a womanly instinct that this is right. This man has claimed me, and I am his woman.
“Yes, Professor Moore, I’m sure,” I murmur. “Take me, because I’m yours.”
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To be continued …
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About the Author
Let go of your inhibitions because S.E. Law is about to take you for a wild ride with over-the-top alpha males who CLAIM their women. Fan of candy canes, popsicles, and anything rainbow.
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