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There’s no avoiding this.
“You have a spine, remember?” Beth says while shoving me forward.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble.
When we get to Dr. Hayes, I struggle to find my voice.
“Emily, Beth, what can I help you with?” he asks, still using his teacher voice despite his tight jaw.
“I’d like some clarification on the assignment. Can we talk in your office?” I ask.
He arches a single eyebrow, then motions for me to go. Beth follows, which I know doesn’t escape his attention. But he doesn’t comment on it.
Beth nudges me, forcing me into Adrian’s office less than two minutes later, then shuts the door fully. Leaving me alone with my professor.
Adrian ignores his chair and rests his ass on his desk, just like he does in class. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows, and I feel lust coil in my belly as I watch his dark skin painted with ink, wondering what the story behind those tattoos is.
No. No. This isn’t about having secretive sex against the door to see if we can get away with it. There’s a point.
“What is it about the…assignmentthat’s unclear?” he asks.
“You’re not coming to the wedding,” I say, forcing myself to meet his gaze.
His eyes shift to the closed door before he answers. “You found someone else?”
“I don’t want you there,” I state evenly.
He tilts his head, the corner of his lips curving slightly. “Really?”
“I don’t have to have a man on my arm. I’m plenty independent,” I argue, shifting on my feet.
Adrian just watches me. The seconds tick by on his clock until that ticking is all I hear. He pushes off the desk and approaches as I back away until I hit the door.
He rests his forearm just above my head, staring down at me. “You’re going to make next weekend difficult?”
“What? No, I just” —I clear my throat— “you shouldn’t be there.”
He doesn’t answer, but his gaze burns me.
“I’m not worth being fired over, even if our… night together has stayed in your head plenty. So, it’s best if we just—”
“And when you get drunk at the reception?” he asks.
It’s so out of left field, all I can do is stare at him. “What? Why would I?”
“I’ve heard it happens at weddings. In the time I’ve known you, you’ve gotten insanely drunk twice. No one asks for I.D.s at weddings, so what will stop you?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“And when you do get drunk, you’ll text me.”
“You texted me first!” I snap, leaning closer.
He strokes my jaw, lifting my face until our noses brush. I tremble under the intensity there. “Tell the truth, Kitten.”
I lick over my bottom lip, and he leans down further, his hot breath teasing over my lips. And my mind races, tossing strange thoughts at me. Has he had sex in his office before? Is it sound proofed? Would he have to shove something into my mouth to keep me quiet? Turn on some music to hide the sounds of us having sex?
Fuck, my panties are already soaking wet.
