Getting Schooled (Craving #9) Read online
Page 6
I find myself in the interesting situation of being aroused, experiencing true feelings for him, and being frustrated all simultaneously. My brain gives the clear message to run, but my heart and body remain on a circuit of their own. A stronger circuit, and one that always wins. Which is why I try to avoid him at all costs.
“Look how responsive you are to me,” he croons. “I bet I could make you come without even touching your pretty pink pussy.”
When he adds a little pressure between my legs with his, a breathy moan escapes my lips. I can’t deny the pull any longer. Is there a way for us to be together?
With a growl, he picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He lowers his mouth to mine, and all bets are off. He demands my submission through the kiss, leaving me no choice but follow his command.
I lift my hands and wrap one around his neck as the other runs across his short hair. He presses me firmly against the wall. Pure pleasure courses through me when he thrusts his straining erection against me, causing me to release the kiss while I gasp for air.
“Daniel,” a male voice calls out, and I hear the door to the lecture hall close.
Swiftly, Daniel opens the supply room, placing me inside while calling out a reply. “One second, Matthew. I’m putting away some of the A/V equipment I used.”
With a brief peck on the lips, he shuts the door, and reality comes crashing down.
Fuck. We were almost caught by Dean Jefferson.
I’m beginning to believe my best bet would be to drop this course. The two of us traverse a slippery slope, and it can only end one way. In disaster.
Gathering my composure, I press my ear against the cold wood. When no voices can be heard, I carefully open the door and find the lecture hall empty.
With my mind made up, I leave to meet with my academic advisor. Today’s incident proves how little willpower I have around the man.
I need to stay far, far away from Daniel Montgomery.
Chapter Four
Daniel
I stand in the hall, patiently waiting for Matthew to wrap up a phone call, certain he caught Olivia and me together after class only moments ago. He disconnects his call, face unreadable, and I can’t help but attempt to gauge the reason for this meeting.
“Is everything okay, Matthew?” I ask the dean, trying to hide my nervousness. My pulse thrums heavily, and the whooshing of my heartbeat echoes in my skull.
“Nothing to worry about,” Matthew replies, allowing me to relax. “I need a brief moment to touch base with you on a few things privately.”
Oh shit. He may not know, but he surely suspects something, right?
I’m unsure what exists about Olivia, which causes me to be willing to risk it all, but all I know is our bodies and souls speak to each other on the most basic and primal levels whenever she’s near. Something tells me she’s the one and not to let her go. I want to know why, but it requires us giving this a try to figure it out. But I fucked it all up. I’m positive.
I break into a sweat, and my stomach twists upside down as I come to the realization my persistence and inability to wait will cause Olivia to lose everything. It’s my fault. All. My. Fault.
When she loses her scholarship and gets kicked out of school, my chance at something real with her will be gone. I pushed. I couldn’t wait. With only one year until she graduates, I could’ve waited. Should’ve waited.
My hands shake as I run them down my face in frustration. Frustrated at myself and the stupidity of letting my dick lead, not my head. If it was meant to be, the timing wouldn’t matter.
“How’s the class working out?” Matthew makes small talk as we head in the direction of his office, but before I formulate an answer, the sight of Olivia trying to sneak out of the lecture hall catches my attention. Matthew does a double take, letting me know he witnessed her not-so-stealthy escape as well.
“Olivia. Perfect. Just the girl I need,” he calls from down the hallway. “Do you have a moment to join us as well?”
She glances at me with wide, terrified eyes, and my heart stops beating for a moment. “Of course, Dean Jefferson. I don’t have any more classes for the day.”
The two of us follow like errant toddlers about to be disciplined by their mother. A walk that normally takes a couple minutes feels like hours due to the silence. When I glance in Olivia’s direction, her demeanor absolutely kills me.
Resignation and defeat replace her usually vibrant, sassy personality. Guilt consumes me, and I wish for nothing more than to be able to make this right for her. Willing to accept the consequences of my actions, I could never expect her to pay for my behavior as well.
“Thank you for meeting with me today, Daniel and Olivia,” Matthew states as he enters his office. “I know it’s short notice and unexpected, but I appreciate you both taking the time.”
“It’s not a problem, Matthew.” I shift in my seat, bracing myself for the conversation to come.
“Let me get right to the point. Your class is popular, Daniel, very popular. Even with moving it into the lecture hall and taking the enrollment up from thirty to two hundred, we still have a long waiting list and already anticipate offering two sections next term to meet the demand.” He reaches into his desk, pulls out a file folder, and continues. “With this said, we need to get you help and fast.”
“I agree. This course was never intended for a large lecture format. It’s meant to be taught in a more intimate setting, allowing for intensive, hands on study,” I answer, confusion evident in my voice. While I find the demand for this class overwhelming, pride fills me in my ability to create such a desired subject of study. “This isn’t anything we haven’t already discussed, and I’m not sure what Olivia has to do with it.”
“I’m getting there.” Matthew pulls a paper from the folder, examining it. “What do you know about the changes within the program over the summer?”
I allow myself a quick sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe, this meeting has nothing to do with Olivia and me after all. She sits next to me, and her posture relaxes as well.
“I know there were a few changes to certain degree requirements, but other than that, I don’t know much,” I answer him, lowering my guard even more due to the direction the conversation appears to be heading.
“You’re correct. One of the programs the department restructured was the creative writing program. Existing students were told they would be held to the previous graduation requirements, and new students in the program would be required to meet the new ones. However, due to extra course work completed by Olivia the past three years, she’s only one class shy of graduation under the new program structure.” Shifting his gaze from mine to Olivia’s, he continues. “Olivia, the department has discussed allowing you to graduate under the new program requirements and offering you a position within the department as an assistant to Professor Montgomery.”
“What?” Confusion riddles Olivia’s voice as she straightens in her chair. “But I thought you said I was one class short.”
Entirely convinced our affair remains unknown, I allow the possibilities of what this means to run rapidly through my mind. This curveball changes the game, whether positively or negatively remains to be seen.
“Yes, and the credit needs to be obtained to be awarded your degree,” Matthew replies. “However, in addition to assisting Professor Montgomery, you will be required to complete modified work in his class to receive the last credit you need. This is a great opportunity for everyone involved. While on paper you will be faculty, off paper you will be auditing Professor Montgomery’s class for a pass-fail grade.”
Wait. What?
Seeking clarification, I lean forward, bracing myself on Matthew’s desk. “So you’re saying, technically, Olivia would be staff and no longer a student?”
Please say yes. Please say yes.
Anticipation builds as I wait for Matthew’s answer. I bounce my knee to expel the anxious energy consuming me, hoping and praying for the Dean to pr
ovide me with the loophole I’ve been searching for.
With eyebrows raised in question, he hesitantly replies. “Like I said, on paper, yes, you’re correct. However, it’s really a gray area.”
Halle-fucking-lujah!
With those words, gray becomes my favorite color. It’s no longer black or white. Gray I can work with. Gray means it’s debatable. Justifiable. Up for discussion.
Lost in my own excitement at this turn in events, I barely participate in the remaining conversation as Olivia and Matthew hash out the details of her new position. When he thanks us one last time and escorts us out of his office, I lose my patience. I grab Olivia’s hand once we’re in the clear and pull her behind me as I rush out of the building toward my car.
“My place is closer. We’ll head there.” My words rush out in one long sentence as I stumble over the break in the sidewalk. “We can talk in the car on the way.”
“Slow down, Daniel.” Olivia shakes her hand free of mine and stops a mere twenty feet from my waiting car. “Give me one reason to follow you and hear what you have to say. Tell me why I should do anything you ask when your actions could have cost me everything. When your actions could still cause problems for me.”
Unable to understand her reluctance, I attempt to justify myself. “You heard the dean, Olivia. You’re no longer, technically, a student. Being faculty means we can be together. There are no rules against it. Yes, the situation’s gray for the next term, but if we’re careful, we can do it, and neither of us would be risking anything.”
I take a step forward, and with a shake of her head, she raises her hand to halt my movement. “I heard what was said in there, Daniel, but you still haven’t answered my question. Why are you so damn adamant about us, about me?” With a deep exhale, her beautiful brown irises stare back at me, pooled with tears and swimming with emotion.
My feet propel me in her direction, and I stop only inches from her. Grabbing her hand, I place it on my chest and hold it tightly with my own. I allow for the first time my own vulnerability to show, knowing she needs it right now.
“This is why, Olivia. My heart. You own it. You will always own it. Does it make sense? No, but it doesn’t make it any less real. We don’t need to understand it. We only need to accept it. To trust it.” I clear the lump of emotion in my throat and continue. “All I’m asking is for a chance to love you.”
A small smile graces her lips, and with a shaky voice, she replies, “Okay.”
We climb into my car, and I start the engine, backing out of the space. Glancing over at her, I intertwine my fingers through hers, and we drive in silence to my apartment.
I rush around the car to open her door and quietly enter the building. Reaching my entry, I fumble with my keys before I can unlock the door. My nerves get the best of me as it takes several attempts before I achieve success.
Laughter, loud and full, spills from Olivia’s lips. “Go figure. You have me where you want me, and now I question your ability to perform.”
With the mood lightened, my nervousness dissipates. “My girl has jokes, huh?”
I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. “Let’s see if you find this funny,” I state as I tickle her sides mercilessly. Her laughter echoes as I carry her into my bedroom and toss her onto my bed.
With a naughty smirk, Olivia pulls her tee over her head, kicks off her shoes, and shimmies out of her jeans. In only her bra and panties, my hooded eyes take in her body from head to toe.
Two can play this game.
I slowly remove my own clothing, piece by piece. Her gaze follows every movement, and she licks her lips with every new section of skin exposed. Completely naked, I stalk toward her like an animal hunting its prey.
“Damn, Olivia,” I say on my approach and climb on the bed next to her. Taking a finger, I lightly trail it across her ribcage. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on this body of yours again.”
My low, rough voice and light touch send a shiver through her body—not a shiver of being cold, but one of anticipation. Her nipples go tight, and her thighs clench, seeking friction. The heavy thrum of her pulse becomes visible along her neck, and her breathing becomes labored.
She’s no longer laughing.
I draw my hand up her side, across her shoulder, and tangle my fingers in the hair at the base of her neck. I crawl closer until I hover over her, my body slightly pressing into hers. My erection brushes against her panty-clad pussy as I bring my lips to hers in a rough, demanding kiss—leaving her no choice but to respond.
As quickly as it started, I end the kiss, leaving her strung tight and ready to explode.
“Are you sure you want this, Olivia? If not, say the word and it ends now,” I state, needing to make sure she indeed wants this as well.
“And what if I say yes?” she asks breathlessly.
“Then I’ll make this a day you’ll never forget, because believe me when I tell you once I start, I will not be stopping until we’re both satisfied and exhausted.”
She nods her head in affirmation, but I shake my head in response. “I need to hear the words, gorgeous.”
Faintly, she answers. “I want this. I want you.”
With the words spoken, I strip her of the last scraps of fabric covering her body and slide her into the center of the bed, situating my body between her legs. I kiss her roughly and then slowly bring my lips to her breast, loving on each inch of skin along the way. I take a nipple into my mouth and thoroughly explore it with my lips, teeth, and tongue before moving my assault to the other.
Satisfied her breasts have been appropriately appreciated, I gently kiss down her stomach and dip my tongue into her bellybutton. I continue to worship her body as soft moans escape her lips. By the time my mouth reaches the swollen, pink lips of her pussy, she’s squirming with need, and her body arches off the bed. I place an arm over her stomach to hold her in place as I devour her.
Removing my mouth moments before she finds her release, I reach into the nightstand for a condom. “The first time you come will be around my dick. I can’t wait to feel your pussy, hot and wet, milking my cock.”
“Yes. Yes,” Olivia pleads. “Please make love to me, Daniel. I need you inside me.”
With those words, the pieces fall into place, making sense. All the questions I asked, answered. The realization catches me off guard, and I find myself humbled by the simplicity of it all.
I love her, and whether she’s accepted it herself or not, she loves me.
Positioning myself on top of her, I line up my dick with her opening. I enter her with one firm thrust and pause to relish the moment. Once she’s adjusted to my size, I kiss her passionately while I begin to move. Slowly stroking my cock in and out of her, as deeply as possible, I want nothing more than to express my feelings for her through our connection. I want to erase any doubts in her mind about our emotional bond.
As her breathing speeds up and her moans increase, I increase my force but not my speed. I want to take this slow. Savor it. Burn it into my memories.
Breaking the kiss, Olivia begs as her walls pulse and clamp down on my dick. “Don’t stop. Oh God. Please don’t stop.”
In a frenzy of need, I continue my assault on her pussy until my own orgasm quickly approaches. “Come with me, Olivia,” I growl. “Now.”
Together we reach the pinnacle of pleasure, shouting each other’s names and clinging to each other as if we’re afraid the other will disappear. When the last wave of ecstasy subsides, we fall into a boneless, sweaty heap as we wait to regain our senses.
“Wow,” Olivia whispers. “That was just…wow.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” I assure her. “I’m just getting started.”
As promised, the day and evening continues in a tangle of tongues and limbs. Several hours and more orgasms than I can count later, I curl up behind her, her unique scent imprinting itself in my memory. I love this woman, and I want a future with her. Only time will tell if the fragile bond between us wil
l grow. Tightening my arm around her waist, I bury my face in her neck. With plenty of time to think about the future, I make the decision to enjoy the present.
Epilogue
5 years later
Daniel
I can’t believe almost five years have passed since I sat in this exact lecture hall for the first time, daydreaming about a girl in a bar who came home with me and then left the next morning without a word. The course I taught on that fall morning not only changed things for the university, but also for both Olivia and me.
Olivia went on to become a USA Today and New York Times bestselling romance author with over a dozen novels published to date. In between novels, she travels around the world to guest lecture on creative writing, as well as speaks at writers’ conventions across America. I couldn’t be happier for her, even though her successes far outshine mine.
I continue to teach at Spring Hill University, and the department offers multiple sections of my controversial Contemporary Culture in Creative Fiction course each term. I teach students from all over the globe who come to take the course. In addition, the university hosts several intensive workshops for writers each year, which I also teach. Though teaching occupies quite a bit of my time, I make a point to spend as much as possible with my wife and three-year-old daughter. Life is good.
As I sit back and watch Olivia lecture at her alma mater, a bittersweet feeling overtakes me. Sometimes I find myself wondering what my life would be like had things been different. Would we both be as happy as we are now? Would we both have found the success in our careers if we had chosen a different path?
Watching Olivia, I find myself captivated by her beauty. Gone is the young college student, replaced with a confident woman. She glows and radiates happiness in the moment. While she likes writing, I know her true love is helping other aspiring authors unlock their personal potential and find success.