4. Jonas
4
Jonas
T he second my eyes connect with Professor Navarro’s, she nearly spills her coffee all down her front. Instead, the top of her coffee cup pops off, and she curses under her breath as she spins away.
The shock of seeing her—of finding her here, at the head of my class—sends a jolt of pleasure sizzling though my body. I drop my fedora into my lap, careful to hide the evidence of my body’s reaction to discovering my summer seductress so unexpectedly.
It’s been three weeks of wondering what happened to my dream woman. Three weeks of wrestling with whether it would be wise to contact the bride and groom, asking after the woman they’d both betrayed.
In the end, I decided it would be too risky to track her down.
After all, she might not want to be found. And considering the way she’d been trying to dodge her family at the wedding, I couldn’t think of a good way to spin my interest in her without revealing how or why I even knew who she was.
So I let it go, hoping and praying that one day I’d cross paths with my sexy, confident dark angel again.
I just never expected it to be here.
In the hallowed halls of Soltero Beach University teaching one of the final four classes I had left to complete in order to finally finish my bachelor’s degree.
My gaze slides down her curvy form to the shape of her ass as she bends to re-affix the lid on her cup. The mere sight of it, hidden under a demure, flowing, pleated skirt has my blood flooding south as I picture myself flipping that flimsy fabric up and over her back, and sliding my fingers up her thick thighs to find the center of her heat. God, what I wouldn’t give to have her dismiss the whole class right here, right now so she could command me to bend her supple body over that desk and plow into her sweet, tight cunt.
From my seat in the back of the class, I watch the rise and fall of her shoulders as she sucks in air and works to calm herself.
By the looks of things, Felicity wasn’t expecting to see me either. But when she turns around, I can’t read her expression. Is she as happy to see me as I am to see her? Does me being here affect her the way it does me?
I’m desperate to know, but she refuses to look me in the eye. Instead, she coolly walks the class through her expectations, waits the required amount of time before taking roll call. When she gets to my name, her eyes flit up to mine.
“Jonas Baxter.”
“Here,” I say, leaning back in my chair and chin up. I hold her gaze long enough to note the faint blush staining her cheeks as she raises the page in front of her face and she continues with the next name on the list.
Then, she dismisses everyone with instructions to do the required reading before returning to class in two days’ time.
Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I file out with the rest of the crowd, but I can feel her eyes following me when I exit through the doors. I don’t go far though. I simply wait on the other side of the door as every other student leaves and those able to be late additions to the class a little later. But soon, they leave, too and it’s only Professor Navarro left inside.
When she emerges, shoulder bag clutched in hand, I fall into step beside her.
“You know, when you told me you were an English teacher, I thought you meant high school.”
Her guarded, wary eyes flick over me as she jabs the call button on the elevator door. My heart seizes up in my chest as her expression remains impassive. Maybe she’s not so pleased to see me?
Maybe she meant what she said about one night only?
Maybe I hadn’t rocked her world as much as she’d rocked mine, and I’m about to step well out of line…
She turns her attention to the display showing what floor the elevator was currently on and keeps her voice low and cool in the nearly empty hallway. “You know what they say about assumptions.”
I press my lips together to keep from grinning at her, but I can’t help the teasing edge of my voice when I lean over and say, “I don’t care if I make an ass of myself, but I would never make one out of you, Professor Navarro.” I cast a glance around, ensuring that no one is around us or within earshot. “Besides, I like your ass far too much to do that to you.”
Her eyes flash and her painted lips part on a short intake of breath before she glides into the open elevator car and hisses, “Do you know the meaning of discretion , Mr. Baxter?”
The doors close behind me and the second we’re alone, the mask of professionalism she wears slips after she jabs the button for the ground floor. Her hand flies to the bridge of her nose and she nudges those black rimmed glasses along up. Then she meets my gaze, and I can see clear, raw desire raging with undefined emotions in those rich brown eyes.
My gaze drops to the outlined dip of her Cupid’s bow, and I’m sure the shade of red staining her lips is the very same one she’d worn to the wedding. The one she’d left rimming around the root of my cock when she’d taken me in her mouth and sucked me that first time.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Don’t.” Her voice is hoarse as her eyelids flutter closed. “Don’t call me that. Not here. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble I could get in?”
“Are you opposed to trouble?”
“When it’s the kind that could get me fired , I am.” She sighs, turning away from me when the elevator dings and the doors fly open. She hurries out of the elevator and makes a beeline for the doors of the building, but I keep pace with her, tucking my hands into my pockets and acting like I’m just another student striding across campus with my professor.
Which, I guess, I technically am.
“Is that your only objection to this? To me? The fact that I’m currently enrolled in your class?”
“Can we talk about this in my office? I’ve got some time before my next class.” She inclines her head to the other university students and faculty traipsing up and down the stairwell we’ve entered, and I trail after her, trying hard not to stare at the sway of her hips as she climbs the steps before me.
Once we’ve gotten to the English department floor, I follow her into her tiny corner office with its neatly arranged bookcase and brightly colored plant pots. Then with a quick glance down the halls to ensure they’re empty, I swiftly close the door behind me with a soft click .
She whirls around at the sound, eyes wide with alarm.
“ Jonas. This is inappropriate. Open the door this instant. ”
“No, ma’am.” Her nostrils flare at my use of the word ma’am and I remember that she didn’t much care for it when I used it with her that night, either. I make a mental note of it. “Three weeks ago, I was just a guy in a band resigned to the fact that I’d be dedicating myself to finishing my education for the next three-and-a-half months. I knew I liked smart, older women and was attracted to those who had both curves and confidence. Then she crashed right into my life, rocked my world, and disappeared just as quickly. Where is that woman today?”
“At work,” she grinds out, eyes drifting from the closed door to my face.
“No,” I say, locking the door and closing the distance between us. With one hand, I tap the space over her heart. “She’s here. In this space, in this bubble that’s just you and me. She’s you.”
“She can’t be me.”
Felicity leans back against the edge of her desk even as her gaze heats and drops to my mouth.
I smirk at her, my cock twitching in excitement as I recognize whatever it is that’s between us, it’s still here. Sparking just enough that I’m sure a flame can still catch if I just press a little further. “Tell me why not.”
“Because you’re my student.”
“I wasn’t when we met. And if you think about it, I’m not technically your student yet. I’ve not turned in any work and you haven’t graded me. Outside of my skills in bed, that is.” I slide my hand up her throat, feel her pulse beat rapidly under my fingertips. “What else?”
“Because you’re too young.”
“That’s an excuse. My age didn’t bother you one bit before.” I turn my hand and brush my rings and knuckles against the line of her jaw.
Her eyes slam shut again and she swallows hard even as her head angles into my touch. My heart soars with the tiny tell and I press my thumb against her bottom lip. She opens her eyes again, desire shining like beacons from her widening pupils as I nudge her chin up and hold firm.
“It bothers me now.”
I study her face and see the lie plain as day written there. “You’re a terrible liar, Felicity. Try again. Tell me why I can’t have you.”
“Because it was just a fling.”
“It doesn’t have to be, darling. It can be so much more. If you want it to be.” I lean down and brush my lips against hers. Soft and teasing. Barely there. “Where is she? Where are you hiding her? My sexy, confident little Mistress Felicity?”
Her hands come to rest on my chest, but she doesn’t push me away.
So I kiss her again, whispering, “Come out, come out, wherever you are. I can be such a good boy if you’ll let me kneel at your feet and taste that sweet, sweet cream I’ve been desperate for ever since I first tasted it three weeks ago. You left me too soon that night.”
“I know.” Her resistance is crumbling, eroding under my touch as I slide my hand to the back of her neck and press my forehead to hers. She doesn’t offer an apology, but I can feel it pulsing between us, unspoken.
“Let’s just be Jonas and Felicity one last time before you’re my off-limits professor.”