Chapter 11
“You wanted to see me, Professor Thorne?”
“Yes.” He was leaning back against the large table, muscled arms crossed, watching with hooded eyes as she slowly approached the front of the lecture hall. The last few stragglers had shuffled out, leaving her and the professor completely alone, which was both scary and exciting.
She stopped several feet away from him, nervously biting her lower lip. “Yes?”
He crooked his finger at her. “Come closer.”
She obeyed, millions of butterflies flapping their wings inside her stomach with every step she took.
“Closer,” he urged.
Her knees wobbled, but she kept moving until she came to a stop right in front of him.
His eyes darkened with satisfaction. “Good girl.”
Heat rushed to her core, pooling in her panties. She swallowed tightly and licked her lips, slick with Fenty hot cherry gloss. The way Professor Thorne’s eyes tracked her tongue was so hot it should be illegal.
Barely breathing, she watched as he reached out to finger a stray curl that had slipped free from her high bun. He tucked it behind her ear, the featherlight brush of his knuckles sending a hard shiver through her body.
She stared into his eyes as the air between them crackled, charged with an unspoken tension.
“Was there something you wanted to discuss with me?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “Your dissenting opinion on Marbury v. Madison. Your insights were particularly astute. More judicious, in fact, than anything I’ve heard from my students in a long time.”
“Thank you so much, Professor Thorne.” She smiled shyly, his praise making her bloom like a hothouse flower. “The law is a compelling labyrinth. Its complexities…they fascinate me.”
“A labyrinth, yes. But every labyrinth has a center. A hidden chamber.” His voice was a low, hypnotic rumble in the weighted silence of the lecture hall. “Sometimes, Miss Moreau, the most profound discoveries aren’t made in the grand halls of justice, but in the darkest corners of the heart.”
Her breath hitched at his words. Is he saying what I think he’s saying???
“Professor Thorne, I—”
He stood suddenly, cupping her face in his big hands. Before she could think or react, he was kissing her.
Her mind reeled. Her heart sang. Her pussy wept.
She swayed against him, moaning shamelessly into his mouth. “Professor Thorne…”
He broke the kiss, his eyes locked with hers as he picked her up, turned around and set her down on the table. Her denim skirt rode up, revealing the tops of her thighs and the delicate lace of her bikini panties.
He stood over her, his dark gaze riveted between her legs with a predatory hunger. “Pink,” he murmured.
“Sir?”
“Your panties. I’ve been dying to know what color they are.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “Pink is my favorite color.”
“And now it’s mine.” His hands trailed up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher until it bunched around her waist and her bare ass rested on the polished wood surface of the table.
She trembled and bit her bottom lip, watching the outline of his cock grow in his jeans as he slowly pulled her panties off, his fingers grazing her skin along the way.
She leaned back on the table and stared up at him, her legs spread wide and her core throbbing, slick and ready. She honestly couldn’t decide what she wanted inside her first—his tongue or his cock.
It didn’t matter. He was already kneeling between her legs, his mouth swooping down to taste her.
She gasped and threw back her head, her eyes closing as his tongue pressed deep, slowly withdrew and pushed in again.
When he folded her legs back, she put her feet flat on the edge of the table, moaning as he licked and sucked her clit, feasting on her pussy until she orgasmed with a thready cry.
She was still gasping for breath when he surged to his feet and reached for his belt. She heard the soft hiss of the leather sliding free, the metallic clink of the buckle reverberating through the cavernous hall. Her eyes dropped, following the line of his inked hand as he unzipped his jeans and—
“Daniela?”
She jolted awake to the sound of her name being called. Heart pounding, she sat up in the clawfoot tub, water sloshing from her shoulders as she looked around, disoriented, the bright white tiles slowly coming into focus.
She was home, in her bathroom, and Caleb Thorne was nowhere in sight.
A disappointed groan escaped her lips before she could stifle it.
“Daniela? Are you all right in there?” Her mother’s concerned voice came through the closed door. “You said you were going to take a bath before dinner, but you’ve been in there for ages. I was starting to worry.”
“I’m fine, Mom!” Her voice was breathless, shaky. “I just…fell asleep.”
Her mother chortled. “Poor baby. Law school must be wearing you out.”
Nah. Just my smokin’ hot professor, if I’m lucky.
“Dinner’s getting cold. Come eat so you can get started on your reading assignments.”
“Okay, Mom. Be right out.” Daniela listened to the sound of her mother’s footsteps retreating down the hallway. Then she sank back into the now lukewarm water, the scents of jasmine and myrrh and orange blossoms wafting around her.
She leaned her head back against the rim of the tub and closed her eyes. There was a throbbing ache between her thighs, lingering echoes of the dream. It had been so real, so vivid. So deliciously erotic.
Biting her lip, she trailed her fingers through the scented bubbles and then across her collarbone.
Goose bumps erupted on her skin as she let her hand drift lower to her breast, circling her nipple in lazy strokes.
She imagined Caleb watching her as she slowly parted her legs and touched herself.
She was so keyed up and horny that the first brush of her fingertips sent a violent shiver through her body.
She thumbed her burning clit and probed her warm opening, teasing sensitive nerves as she imagined Caleb’s hand guiding hers, urging her to apply more pressure, telling her not to hold back. She felt her heart rate quicken, her breaths becoming shallower.
The bathwater churned as her fingers swirled faster and faster, dipping between her folds and working her clit while her other hand kneaded her aching breasts.
She could see Caleb’s sexy dark eyes searing into hers, could feel his long digits pressing inside, stroking, curling, thrusting, retreating.
A tingling started in the base of her spine, spreading up and outward. She sank deeper in the tub, tilting her head back as tension tightened her muscles and fisted in her stomach. Seconds later she came with a shuddery moan, her thighs clamped around her hand and her eyes squeezed shut.
When the spasms faded away and her toes stopped curling, she slowly withdrew her fingers from her body and let out a sated little sigh. The orgasm had taken the edge off her craving, but there was only one man who could give her what she needed.
Ready or not, Caleb Thorne, here I come.
Late Thursday morning, she was on her way out of the classroom after Legal Research and Writing when she was stopped by Shara Adler’s voice. “Miss Moreau, may I speak to you for a minute?”
April, walking beside Daniela, arched a questioning brow.
“I’ll catch up with you later,” Daniela told her, then turned and made her way to the front of the classroom where Shara stood stuffing files into an expensive-looking leather messenger bag.
She was understated elegance in a teal blouse worn over tan linen slacks, and her long dark mane gleamed under the room’s warm, recessed lights.
“Is something wrong?” Daniela asked, facing her across the table.
“Depends on whose perspective you’re talking about,” the woman answered without looking up from her task. “What I may consider wrong, you might find perfectly acceptable.”
Daniela frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she said, though she had a sinking feeling she understood perfectly.
Amber eyes lifted and drilled into hers with arctic intensity. “I understand you and Professor Thorne had coffee together yesterday.”
“That’s right. He was kind enough to answer some questions I had about an assignment.” She didn’t add that the assignment was for Shara’s class. Why add fuel to the fire?
“Oh, I’m sure kindness had little to do with it,” Shara said in a voice dripping with cynicism. “And I would imagine you both had more on your minds than coffee and homework.”
Daniela bristled. “Is there something you want to say to me, Professor Adler?”
“Yes,” Shara snapped. “I’ve been around a long time, Miss Moreau.
Long enough to know how things work around here.
Every semester, I watch pretty young things throw themselves at Caleb—some are subtle, some not so subtle.
For the most part, Caleb pays these girls no mind, enduring their advances like minor annoyances.
But there’s always that one who sneaks beneath the radar, the one he simply can’t resist.” Her smile was cold and narrow.
“I guess you’ve drawn the winning lottery ticket this semester, Miss Moreau. Congratulations.”
Daniela kept her features carefully schooled, though inside she was shaking with anger and an emotion that came too close to disillusionment.
Raw, gut-twisting disillusionment. Which was ridiculous.
Why should she care that Caleb engaged in meaningless flings with his students?
Given that the success of her mission depended on his susceptibility to temptation, she should be relieved.
But she wasn’t. Far from it.
Looking Shara Adler squarely in the eye, she said coolly, “It must be very difficult to watch the man you love drift from one affair to another right in front of your face.”