Getting Schooled (Craving #9) Page 13

“It’s a special night. Enjoy.”

  And she did. After two shots, she felt delightfully giddy and excited to hear music from Lost Town Lines. Before their first set, Jayson’s friends from the band came to say hello, and she noticed how young and attractive they all were. Lucky for her, the alcohol kept her from dwelling on that fact too much.

  When Lost Town Lines started playing the high octane country music, she danced with Jayson. When the music slowed, he pulled her close, his hand possessive on her back. As the night progressed, the dance floor crowded with bodies. Rebecca’s face flushed from the humid heat, her clothes becoming drenched in perspiration.

  “I need some air.” She pulled Jayson out of the crowd and toward the front door.

  He followed willingly. They strolled around the corner, and he guided her toward the back of the building.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “Where people won’t see us making out. You’re killing me in those tight jeans.”

  He pushed her against the building, his weight crushing her delightfully. His mouth found hers, his tongue teasing, hungry with wanting. She kissed him back, equally as desperate to fulfill their mutual need.

  Time stood still as they kissed. One of his hands found its way into her hair, which he gently pulled on to finally separate them. “Are you ready for another challenge?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She’d do anything for him.

  “Stand perfectly still. I’m going to go down on you.”

  “Wait. As much as I’d love that…” She giggled. How many drinks had she had? “Please let me return the favor. You have to admit I’ve been good, abiding your commands. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved every minute of it, but it’s my turn.”

  “Are you sure? Here? Now?” He eyed one entrance to the narrow alley to make sure no one materialized.

  “Absolutely.” The alcohol made her bold.

  “Who am I to deny a woman what she wants?” He put his hands in the air, conceding the night to her.

  She moved back far enough to unbutton his jeans and dropped them down. She went slowly, tauntingly to her knees in front of him, and then she heard the footsteps.

  “Jayson?” The woman’s voice sounded incredibly close. Rebecca jumped, trying to hide herself behind the carpenter, letting her hair fall across her face.

  Jayson took the situation in stride, pulling up his jeans with a wry smile on his face. “Natalie. I didn’t really expect anyone around the back of the building.”

  It was the woman’s turn to laugh uncomfortably. “My friends and I were looking for a back entrance. We didn’t have enough for cover. I figured once we got inside, some guys would buy us drinks.”

  Rebecca tried to blend into the wall. She bowed her head but peeked from under her hair.

  “I’m good friends with the band. Let me get you in.”

  “You’d do that for us?” Natalie purred, her voice seductive.

  “Absolutely.” He turned to Rebecca. “Stay here a moment.”

  Natalie and her friends inched forward, and that’s when Rebecca, her head still bowed, heard the squeak of recognition. “Dr. Locklear, is that you?” Luke, her graduate assistant, stood between the two women, who broke into giggles.

  Jayson pulled them all away toward the front door.

  Rebecca did not wait for Jayson’s return. She ran to her car, wanting nothing more than to get into bed, hide under the covers, and forget this night ever happened.

  Her carpenter tried calling on Sunday, but she ignored him. The rest of the day, Rebecca waited to hear from Ron or one of her colleagues saying the students had turned her in. The fear left her with a killer headache and a bout of nausea. Pacing the confines of her condominium, she fretted about losing her career. She worried her life as an academic lay in ruins.

  Chapter 6

  Rebecca lived on headache medicine and antacids as she waited the entire week for a “see me in my office” email from her boss, but it never came. For a few days, her interactions with Luke were strained, but neither of them said a word about the incident, and they soon returned to a normal work relationship. During the last days of class, she looked for Jayson, who had moved his seat to the back. He attended but never tried to speak with her. He ended the class with the grade of an A and afterward disappeared.

  Rebecca relaxed when the semester concluded without repercussions. No one had reported her. She went back to her routine and focused on academia with renewed fervor. It was her passion, and maybe it was meant to be her only passion. Even so, one part of her craved Jayson’s company more than she longed to research, publish, or even become the dean of a department. He had changed her, and she didn’t want to relinquish those changes.

  Two more weeks dripped by. Summer blossomed, which meant a lighter work schedule and more time to focus on her writing. She started penning that personal project, revamped her curriculum vitae, and perused universities in search of a new position.

  On a leisurely Saturday morning, Rebecca skipped the gym. She took advantage of her home office, giving in to the luxury of not getting dressed. The silk robe sat soft against her bare arms. Under it, sleep shorts and a camisole tank top kept her cool. Her long, glossy hair was loose and wavy. Reading glasses, which she recently purchased and already hated, sat low on her nose.

  Engrossed in perusing the peer-reviewed articles, Rebecca lost track of time until the buzz of the front doorbell startled her. Shaking herself out of the trance, she checked the clock on the computer, shocked to see it was well after noon. She stood, stretched out the kinks, and went to the front door, unable to fathom who could be there.

  Ron stood in uneasy embarrassment outside her door. He wore long, tan shorts and a short-sleeve button-down red-checkered shirt. They had kept their distance for a while, so the visit both surprised Rebecca and filled her with dread. Opening the door, she let him in. He swayed slightly on his feet as he staggered up the few steps into her open-floor plan, tastefully furnished two-bedroom condo.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, putting some distance between them.

  “I need you in my life, Beckster. It just doesn’t work without you. You were always so well prepared. Everything organized. My clothes were clean, my meals made. I didn’t realize how important those little things can be. I’m no good without you.”

  “Have you been drinking?” She smelled the alcohol on him.

  “I had lunch with a couple buddies.” He steadied his lanky frame against one of the cream walls. “Why?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you’d insult me otherwise.”

  “Insult you?” Confusion clouded his sweaty face. He tried to reach out for her but missed. “I’m praising you.”

  “You’re describing a maid, not a partner. Go hire a housekeeper or personal assistant. That’s what you need, not me.” She took a few more steps back.

  “You’re also beautiful and intelligent and sexy. You’re everything a man could want.”

  A deep sigh escaped. She actually felt bad for Ron. “We had order, and security, and routine. Everyone needs a little of that, but our relationship lacked passion, that unexplainable chemistry.”

  “When we first met, you said you didn’t believe in chemistry.”

  “I know. I tell everyone that romance is a construct. I’ve been a realist all my life, but I’ve experienced the other side, and it’s worth it. I believe I can have both security and passion.”

  “With him. Your student?” He spat the words.

  “It’s not your concern, but that’s over.”

  He moved close, crowding her. “I can show you passion too. We were always good in bed together.”

  “No.” She put out her arms to halt him.

  He ignored her words, grabbing her and forcing her against the recently purchased leather sofa in the living room. His sloppy kiss tasted of alcohol. When his lips left hers, Ron trailed kisses from her mouth to her cheek to her neck. He pushed her robe aside and manha
ndled her breast.

  “Stop.” She pushed him away.

  He staggered back, looking dazed.

  “You’re drunk and acting like an idiot.” She kept her voice calm. “Go home and sober up.”

  “There’s nothing to go home to. I need you.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re a grown man and an accomplished academic. This is a problem I’m sure you can solve for yourself with a little thought.” She pitied the man in front of her. “Go home.” She gently turned him away from her, pulling him to the front door. He followed like an obedient puppy.

  “Beckster,” he whined. “Don’t leave me.”

  “I’m already gone. You’ll be fine. I bet you’d have a lot of fun on Tinder. Wait, maybe you’re too old for that, but try a dating app or something.”

  “You’re too funny. I miss that.” He turned to her, basset hound eyes dopey.

  She forced him out the door and locked it.

  After Ron left, she showered off the remains of their encounter, dressing in sleek tan slacks and a black pullover shirt. She was a member of the local historical society that often brought in authors to speak about the town, something she found fascinating. Today’s author had written a book on one of the local settlers, and Rebecca couldn’t wait to learn more.

  Rebecca arrived early to many open seats in the audience. She sat in the back, ready to make her escape if the historian droned on as they sometimes did. As the minutes ticked by, more and more people arrived, and she realized it was going to be a full house. She felt someone take the seat next to her and turned to send a friendly smile.

  Jayson returned her smile with one of his own. He looked more beddable than ever, wearing work boots, jeans, and a plaster-covered t-shirt.

  “Hi,” he said, voice soft and gravelly. “I came from a job across town. Didn’t have time to change.”

  “Why are you here?” Emotions ran a marathon through her, and she didn’t know if she should be thrilled or angry. Was he stalking her?

  “I could ask you the same thing. The founders of the town built that beautiful colonial at the end of Main Street. There’s a whole chapter on it in the book.”

  “Oh.” She was embarrassed at her rash thoughts. “I actually haven’t had a chance to read his book yet.”

  A well-dressed older gentleman with glasses and a bald spot appeared at the podium and began his talk. He was engaging and funny, but Rebecca only noticed the pressure of Jayson’s leg against hers. One small part of Rebecca had hoped the spark between them was based on the fact that the carpenter had been younger and her student. While the younger part was still a possibility, he wasn’t her student anymore. The attraction between them remained so hot she was amazed the room hadn’t ignited.

  After the lecture, Rebecca went to meet the author but noticed out of the corner of her eye that Jayson didn’t leave. Waving goodbye to the guest speaker, she walked to the back of the room where Jayson lounged in a chair. He stood as she approached. She’d have to talk to him.

  “Hi, Professor.”

  “You don’t have to call me that anymore.”

  “I like to call you that.” His eyes met hers. He moved a finger gently against her thigh.

  “What do you want?” Heat exploded in her core.

  “You.” He sent her a sexy smile.

  Her body reacted to him even as she said the words. “It’s not going to work between us.”

  “You aren’t even giving us a chance?” His finger moved up, tickling her ribs.

  “I can’t have this conversation here.” She started out the door.

  “Come back to my place then.”

  “I shouldn’t.” She shook her head, her hair fluttering around her face concealing the mix of emotions that crossed it.

  “You should. You’ve never seen my house.”

  His smile undid her. “I haven’t.” She wanted this man still. And she wanted the burn that went along with the hot embers building inside her. She shrugged away lingering doubts. “Okay.” What harm could one more night bring now that class had ended?

  She followed his green truck into a lovely residential area lined with old trees and well-maintained lawns. His house was craftsman style, white with brown trim.

  They left their shoes in the mud room. As she walked into the living room, the natural rock fireplace stood out as a dramatic centerpiece. It was accented by a crisp white rug, leather furniture, and dark wood. Most definitely a man’s abode.

  “Can I get you coffee?” he asked.

  “I’d love some.” She followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the island on a stool. “Your home is beautiful.”

  “I did all the remodeling myself.” As the coffee brewed, he dug through the fully stocked cabinets and set out two mugs, spoons, cream and sugar. After he had poured each of them a steaming, fragrant mug full of dark liquid, he sat next to her.

  “What did you think of the lecture?” she asked.

  He smiled wryly. “In all honesty, it was hard to concentrate with you next to me.”

  “Sorry.” She said the words but didn’t mean them. She was glad to still have an effect on him.

  His smile turned sincere. “Don’t be sorry. Never be sorry.” His rough hand captured hers.

  Electricity sparked. The mutual chemistry hadn’t lessened with time away from one another.

  She met his eyes. They were full of intense longing. It was her turn to take control. She leaned in and kissed him. He returned her kiss, his desire evident.

  Standing, Rebecca pulled her carpenter up, tugging his shirt over his head, exposing the bare skin she longed to touch. She wanted him naked right there in the kitchen but controlled herself.

  “Where’s the bedroom?” Rebecca couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  He laughed quietly. “Taking charge, are you?”

  “You’re mine today.”

  He turned serious for a minute. His hands grasping her arms. His eyes meeting hers. “I’d never take what wasn’t offered. You’ve always been in charge. I just wanted you to know what it was like to give someone else control for a few minutes. It’s always been up to you. Everything’s been up to you.”

  Her hands kneaded the muscles of his chest, but his words stopped her. “Does that mean there’s more fun waiting for me in the future?”

  “As much as you want. I’ve known you were the woman for me since I walked into class on that first night, Professor.”

  “You don’t have to call me professor anymore. Class is over.”

  “But it fits you so well. Enough talk.” He led her into the bedroom. Turning on a lamp that sat on a night table, the room filled with subdued warmth. A king-sized bed made up with a gray duvet and accented with throw pillows beckoned them. Old photographs and maps showing the town and some of the most beautiful architecture created a personal touch to the otherwise clean lines of the furniture.

  “I love your bedroom.” She turned to take it all in.

  “I love you.” The words were soft.

  Her owlish eyes met his. “There’s no way you could know that this early in our relationship.”

  “I trust my heart. I know it’s hard for you academic types, but stop thinking so much.” He placed a gentle finger against her cheek.

  He pulled her close and kissed her, his hands moving under her shirt, tickling her ribs and moving to her bra. His thumb grazed against the nub of her nipple, already a peak of pleasure. She felt him stir against her, ready for anything she wanted to offer.

  She moved away, enjoying Jayson’s expression as he watched her strip off her shirt and pants. She stood in her lacy red bra and panties.

  Meeting his hungry eyes, a wanton smile played on her full, pouty lips. She closed the distance between them, tugging at his belt, pulling it off. She played with the buttons of his jeans, taking her time to relinquish him of them.

  Once liberated of his clothing, he reached out to pull her close. She fell into his heat. His kiss held a new ferocity, but hi
s touch remained tender as his hand caressed her. He moved his fingers up her back like a whisper of wind, and then they tickled her neck and tangled in her hair.

  She wanted him closer. She guided them both to the bed. They moved in unison, and soon enough, the cool covers caressed her back. She soaked in the joy of his work-rough hands covering her near nakedness with delightful fire. One hand found her panties, and he pulled them away. When his finger massaged her core, she couldn’t stop a moan.

  She moved her mouth away from his. “Don’t tease me. I need you. I want you now.”

  But for a second, he did just that. A finger caressed her most sensitive spot. Her arms clung to him, nails digging into his strong shoulders. “Now. Please.”

  He parted her legs with a knee, his manhood probing, and drove inside her. Her legs locked around him as they rocked together with each thrust. It wasn’t the most skilled demonstration, but intense animal desire fueled her. Primal. She stifled a scream as he filled her. Her body took him all in.

  “Harder,” she whispered against his ear.

  His body was a force of nature, and she loved the tornado she was caught in. Rebecca was an active participant in the wild ride. She clung to him.

  “My turn,” she begged. Jayson grabbed her sides, and a second later she was on top. She used one hand to guide him back inside of her, the other reaching behind to fondle him. She controlled the pace but held back on her own climax, wanting to drive him to the brink.

  “Stop, Professor,” he grunted out. “I can’t take anymore.”

  He ended her teasing.

  Not even sure how he managed it, she was under him again, and Jayson drove her over the edge in a few swift, sure strokes. Rebecca couldn’t hold back, crying out with the intensity of the release.

  After, as they cuddled in bed, Rebecca could see a forever in his eyes.

  “Professor, you’re in a class all your own.”

  She laughed. “Is it one you’re considering taking?”

  “I think I’m planning on being a bad student and coming for a lot of extra help.”

  “It seems like I’ll need to set up some extra sessions for you.”