55. Megan
CHAPTER 55
MEGAN
I wake up before dawn, draped across Preston like a blanket. His lips are against my ear, his soft breaths pelting my skin. One big hand squeezes my left cheek in a possessive hold, sending a shiver through me.
Every muscle in my body is deliciously sore. He made love to me over and over again last night, leaving me floating in a cloud of euphoria. I never want it to end… but the worries I silenced last night aren’t so easily quieted with the sun climbing toward the horizon.
He’s not just a professor at my college. He’s my professor, the man who stands behind the lectern twice a week, entrusted with my education. Even if the school didn’t have an issue with the fact that I’m in his bed right now, my classmates would. They’d accuse him of favoritism. Or, worse, abusing his authority. Of seducing me. Or perhaps, I’d be the villain in their eyes, the shameless hussy who slept with a professor for a grade. All of my work to date will mean nothing… and neither will his.
We’ll both be branded with scarlet letters, judged for daring to buck convention and chase a dream we’re not supposed to chase just because he’s my professor.
I can’t do that to him. It isn’t fair. And I can’t do it to myself, either.
But I’m just as much a coward in the murky morning light as I was last night and every day before. I’m not even brave enough to tell him. If I do, I’ll let him talk me into staying. It would be so easy to do because it’s what I want more than anything. I want to stay. I want to snuggle back down beneath him and get lost in his arms again.
And if I do, I’ll ruin him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, sliding carefully out from beneath him. I hold my breath until my feet are on the floor. He grunts, a frown passing over his face, but he doesn’t wake up.
I hunt around on the floor for my clothes… only to remember that he tore my dress. After a moment of panic, I decide to tie it around my waist like a skirt and then steal his shirt to cover my boobs.
Tears well in my eyes when I tug it down over my head, and his spicy, masculine scent envelops me. This is so damn hard! I’m desperately in love with a man I can’t keep, one who is perfect for me in every way.
Last night was a fairytale in every way. He was perfect, so damn perfect.
He shifts on the bed, and I quickly dart out of the room, afraid I’ll wake him up. I pause in the kitchen, unable to leave without some kind of explanation. I spy a notebook on the counter and quickly grab it, scrawling out a quick note.
I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me for leaving like this, but this isn’t right. I can’t let you risk your career for me.
-Megan
A tear drops on the paper, smearing my name. I sniffle, dropping the pen. I need to get out of here before I lose it entirely.
I cast one last, lingering glance down the hallway, wishing like hell that I was running back to him instead of away from him… and then I slip out, wracked with guilt.
I have my driver drop me off to pick up my car in Midnight Falls, and then race home to shower and change. By the time I rush into the office, I’m half an hour later, and there’s no hiding the fact that I’ve been crying. A lot, actually.
Elysa takes one look at my face and practically drags me into Leia’s office.
“Oh my gosh!” Leia hops up from behind her desk, her eyes wide. “What’s wrong, Megan?”
“Nothing,” I lie… and then promptly burst into tears.
Elysa and Leia share a look as they rush toward me, ushering me to a chair. I collapse into it, miserable. Guilty. This day sucks.
“I w-w-wish I’d n-never answered that s-stupid email!” I cry, dabbing at my eyes.
They share another look.
“What email?” Leia finally asks.
“Someone claiming to be a m-matchmaker emailed and s-set me up on a b-blind date.” I sniffle, trying to get control of myself. Ugly crying at work isn’t a good look for anyone. “My date was last night.”
“It didn’t go well?” Elysa asks, worry stamped across her face.
“It was perfect,” I whisper, trying desperately not to cry all over again. “My d-date was Preston. The whole night was p-perfect.”
“So, what’s the problem then?” Elysa asks.
“It’s not right.” I dab at my eyes again. “He’s my professor. He could be fired if anyone found out that we s-slept together. I can’t do that to him!”
“You slept with him?”
Leia jabs her best friend in the side. “Not really the time to ask for details, Elysa,” she mutters.
“I wasn’t asking for details. Jeez. I’m just happy for her.” Elysa shrugs. “Obviously, he feels the same way about her if they’re already sleeping together.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t let him get fired because of me.” I sniffle again. “I love him too much to be that selfish. It’s not fair to him.”
“Says who?” a deep voice growls from behind me. His voice.
I gasp, spinning around to see him standing in the doorway, looking mad as hell. And worried, too.
“Preston,” I whisper, another flood of tears pouring down my cheeks.
“I think our work here is done,” Leia says, grabbing Elysa by the arm. “We’ll just… yeah, bye!”
I barely register the fact that they must have noticed him standing there before I did. They let me confess how I felt anyway. I briefly consider the possibility that one of them is the matchmaker, but before my mind can do anything more than dredge up the possibility, they’re rushing past Preston and out of the office… and he’s stomping toward me.
“You ran out on me this morning, sweet girl,” he says, his voice lethally soft. “I wasn’t a happy man when I woke up in that bed alone.”
“I’m sorry,” I whimper. “I left a note.”
“You think that made me feel better, Megan?” He gently hauls me to my feet, his eyes blazing with emotion. “You gave yourself to me last night, and then walked away this morning like it meant nothing.”
“That’s not true!” I cry. “It m-meant everything!”
“Then why’d you run?”
“I don’t want to ruin you,” I sob desperately. “You l-love teaching. I don’t want to be the r-reason you can’t do it anymore. I don’t want p-people to say h-horrible things about you!”
“Like what?” he asks, his eyes locked on my face. “That I found something I love more than teaching and grabbed it with both hands? That I fell head over fucking heels for a student?”
I gasp, staring up at him in shock.
“Because that’s what happened, sweet girl,” he continues. “I fell so fucking hard for the pretty little angel with mink brown hair who sits in the first row and stutters and blushes every goddamn time I call on her. She knows every answer to every question, but she stammers and blushes and won’t meet my gaze because, while everyone else in the room is focused on what I’m saying, she’s busy thinking about what my lips would taste like against hers.”
“Preston.” I twist my hands up in his shirt like I did last night, clinging to him again.
“I fell for every fucking piece of her, Megan. Long before I took her to my bed. And I plan to keep falling for her for a lifetime.” He cups my cheeks, sweeping his thumbs beneath my eyes to wipe away my tears. “A job is just that, sweet girl. A job. But you and I? We’re more than that.”
Elysa said the same thing, didn’t she? A career isn’t a life. But love is. If he can be brave and bold and reach for it, why can’t I do the same?
“I’m afraid,” I whisper.
“Of what?” he whispers back.
“That you’ll wake up one d-day and resent me b-because I cost you something important.”
“Or maybe I’ll wake up every day and thank my lucky stars that I’m waking up next to the woman I love,” he retorts, stroking my cheek. “That’s what I want, sweet girl. To wake up next to you for the next fifty years. But you’ve got to want it, too.”
“I do,” I sob quietly. “I want it so damn bad.”
He exhales a breath, pressing his forehead to mine. “Then it’s yours. I’m yours.” His lips come down on mine in a kiss that’s as fiery as it is sustaining.
By the time he breaks away, we’re both breathing hard, and I’m pressed so tightly to him, I’m not entirely sure where I end and he begins.
“I’m sorry I ran,” I whisper.
He brushes his lips across my forehead. “I get it, sweet girl. You care about the people you love a helluva lot.”
“I don’t want to be the reason you lose anything.”
He tips my chin back, smiling down at me. “Then you’ll be happy to know that you won’t be. I talked to the dean before I came over here. I confessed that I’d fallen in love with you.”
“Preston!” I gasp, shocked.
“It’s okay,” he croons. “He wasn’t thrilled, but shit happens, baby. We’re both grown. He’s going to assign someone else to grade any work you turn in until the end of the semester.”
“He isn’t firing you?”
“He isn’t firing me,” he confirms.
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” I groan, face-planting against his chest. But I know why he didn’t. He needed this to be my choice, something I wanted enough to fight for, even if it meant fighting against the odds. Telling me would have been too easy. I can’t fault him for that, not after I ran out on him like I did.
“I’m telling you now.” His hands dance down my spine before curving around my waist to pull me closer. “You’re stuck with me, sweet Megan.”
I glance up at him. “That’s exactly where I want to be.”
“Yeah?”
I nod, pressing even closer as I loop my arms around his neck. “You might not have heard, but I’m kind of obsessed with you.”
He grins, slow and easy. “Oh, yeah? How obsessed?”
“Stalking you online obsessed,” I whisper, my lips inches from his. “Madly in love obsessed. Named my favorite toy after you obsessed.”
“Fuck,” he growls, planting his hands on my ass to boost me up into his arms. I land on top of Leia’s desk with a squeak as he attacks my throat. “I want to meet this fucking toy, Megan.”
“Maybe,” I moan, throwing my head back as he attacks my throat with kisses.
“You can introduce me when you move in.” He bites me. “That’s happening as soon as the fucking semester ends.” His lips slide down my throat. “But you’ll be wearing my ring long before then, pretty girl.”
“Yes,” I moan.
“Wasn’t a question, but I’m glad we’re on the same page. I love you.” He pinches my right nipple. “You’re mine.” And then my left. “You’re marrying me. End of discussion.”
I’m not even sure what we’re discussing anymore, but it sounds like a plan to me. The best one I’ve ever heard, actually.