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Finally, his need for climax became too much and he plunged into me over and over in long, deep thrusts that bottomed his hips against mine each time. I clung to him as he came with a mighty roar deep inside of me, filling me to the brim with his seed.
Feeling his release inside me sent me spiraling into another orgasm, milking his cock of every last drop.
Completely satisfied, our breathing returning to normal, Rick pulled out of me and gathered me in his arms against his chest.
I dozed in his arms. It could have been five minutes or two hours. Space and time meant nothing after the way we’d turned each other’s bodies inside out and found such pleasure and such peace. There was no way to deny it now. That I had such feelings for him, that right or wrong, I was his. I lay there, not even allowing myself a happy sigh because the slightest noise might remind him where we were, that this was fundamentally inappropriate, that I should leave immediately. I didn’t want to leave, not now and not ever, but I knew the reckoning would come. It just left a matter of how long he’d be the gentleman and let me sleep before he told me to move along and forget it ever happened. I couldn’t make that promise. I’d leave but I’d never ever forget or stop playing it over in my mind.
Rick held me in his arms, let me rest my cheek on his chest. I heard his pounding heart slowly return to a normal rhythm. He pulled the comforter over me when I shivered, chilled with the exertion and the sweat cooling on my bare skin. That simple considerate action melted my already sensitive heart. He kissed my hair and held me like I was the most cherished thing in the world. I let myself have that, let myself really sink into it and appreciate that sensation of being fully cared for, protected, adored. Even if it was temporary, it was no less real. When at last he shifted beneath my cheek and turned onto his side to face me, I resigned myself to what I knew would happen.
“Hailey,” he said softly, his voice so very kind. I nodded slightly, let my eyes flutter open.
“I wasn’t asleep,” I admitted, “and I think I know what you’re going to say. You don’t have to say it. I know you’re right. Even if I don’t like it.”
“I have to say it anyway. It’s good that we’re in agreement, both over the necessity of this never happening again and disliking the circumstance that makes it improper. I like you, in fact, I like you too much for my own good. I don’t regret asking you to come home with me, and I sure as hell don’t regret kissing you or anything that came after. I want you to know that.”
I swallowed hard, grateful that he gave me that much at least, that he wasn’t going to flog himself over how inappropriate it had been to give in to our attraction and how he hated himself or some bullshit like that.
“I won’t make excuses, because I’m a grown man and I knew what I was doing. I didn’t get carried away or have any extreme situation to blame it on. I wanted you, and you wanted me. We did nothing wrong. But given that I’m your professor, not to mention the CEO of the firm where you work as an intern, any kind of relationship would have a negative impact on your professional reputation. I don’t want your grades and your hard work to be discounted as something you traded sexual favors for when nothing is further from the truth. You don’t deserve to be judged unfavorably for having a personal relationship with me, but the fact is that you would be.”
I sat up. I couldn’t bear the intensity of being face to face with him, stretched out on his bed where we’d made love. Because that was what it had felt like to me—making love. Slow and deliberate and romantic and all-consuming. But I had to face reality. I wasn’t embarrassed exactly or even disappointed—I knew what I was getting into.
“I see your point, and I agree with it,” I said. “I don’t have regrets either. I want you to know that so you don’t start moping around like Hamlet or something with the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“I won’t. I’m not the brooding type, Hailey. I’m more into action, less into overanalyzing things.”
“That’s a good quality. I’m more of an over-analyzer.”
“Then you have to manage that or it will hold you back in the business world. There’s something to be said for instincts,” he said.
“Thanks for the lecture, professor,” I said before I could stop myself.
I got to my feet and went into his bathroom in what I hoped was a nonchalant way. I showered off quickly, scrubbing hard, trying to get every trace of the night off of me before I burst into tears. I dried off and wrapped in the towel. He wasn’t in the bed when I came out, but my clothes were folded up on top of the comforter. He had gotten up, retrieved my clothes and folded them so I didn’t have to go hunting for them on his floor. He had saved me that indignity and I appreciated it, even though my pride or my heart were smarting over the necessary but unwelcome announcement that we couldn’t be anything to each other because of our roles.
Dressed, I strolled out of the bedroom with my head held high, shoulders back. He was waiting for me, dressed in jeans and t-shirt, more casual than I’d ever seen him. His hair was messed up from where I’d run my hands through it, and he looked so sexy leaning against the back of the couch that I felt my pulse kick up at the sight. Damn. The least he could do was look like crap or smell bad or something to make this easier.
“I apologize,” I said. “I snapped at you, and it was immature,” I said.
“You didn’t call me an asshole. You didn’t slap me. It could be worse,” he shrugged. “I’ve been called a lot worse than professor.”
I took a step back and cleared my throat. “Water?” he offered me a bottle and I took a long drink. “Now, let me give you a ride home.”
“I can call a Lyft.”
“No,” he said, and that was final.
I followed him to his car and we rode in silence. The part of me that felt like I should make small talk wasn’t strong enough to push past the part of me that was super conflicted. I wanted to be with him and tell everyone who judged that they could go to hell. I also wanted a career in marketing and knew that an affair with my professor and boss was the worst way to start one. I’d be under suspicion of being incompetent and trading sex for grades and the internship position. The reference from REM would be rendered meaningless, tainted by the suggestion that I whored myself for the job.
I knew the wisdom and practicality of Rick’s insistence that we end our brief involvement. I just didn’t like it and I couldn’t quite resign myself to it. Maybe because my body still tingled from the memory of his mouth between my legs or the way it felt the first time he kissed me. He’d left his mark on me, body and soul, and there was no amount of denial that would change that fact.
CHAPTER22
RICK
After I took her home, I showered and tried to get some work done, too wired to even think about sleep. I had too much to think about, including the minefield I’d jumped into the middle of with my actions.
Earlier I’d watched Hailey drift off, spent from our lovemaking and the climax that left her screaming and trembling as I’d poured into her, nearly blacking out from the force of my own orgasm. Still, I had stayed completely alert, wanting to take in every detail of the way she felt in my arms. The soft weight of her on my chest, the way her hair was spread out on my arm, ticklish and a little annoying but I liked it anyway. The crease between her eyebrows that finally smoothed out when she relaxed at last. The subtle scent of almond that must be in her shampoo or lotion because it clung to her, and I hoped cravenly that it stayed on my sheets after she was gone.
This was a shit-tastrophe, as Aaron would say. I’d fucked up and the trouble would keep coming, like aftershocks. For the very first time in my life, I had the urge to confess. The tenets of my upbringing were rearing their ugly head—I’d never set much store by telling a priest my mistakes and I didn’t want clergy to hear my sins now. I dialed Kyle’s number.
