Chapter 9
GRADY
“ F uck.” The word hissed out beneath clenched teeth.
Cece strolled into the lecture hall looking like a woman on a catwalk.
I watched her hips sway in that goddamn skirt like she was doing it on purpose.
Which she absolutely was. The charcoal gray fabric clung to every curve, and when she bent to set her bag down, I had to grip the edge of my desk to keep from groaning out loud.
This was her idea of appropriate?
The silky white blouse was professional enough, but with those top buttons undone, I caught glimpses of creamy skin that made my mouth go dry.
I caught the faintest glimpse of a virginal white bra.
Boring. Basic. And fucking hot. Her red hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders instead of that practical ponytail from yesterday, and those heels made her legs look like they went on for miles.
She was testing me. Pushing back against my comment about her clothes being too tight. Well, message fucking received.
“Good morning, Professor,” she said sweetly, her voice carrying just enough honey to let me know she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Miss Monroe.” I kept my voice level, professional, even though every instinct I had was screaming at me to bend her over that desk and show her what happened when she played with fire.
Lina walked in a few seconds later, took one look at Cece, and arched a brow. Cece leveled her with a stare. I didn’t know what they had said to each other in that quick look, but Lina walked away without commenting.
“What are we doing today, Professor Stone ?” Cece’s use of my name was dripping with sensuality. She was trying to make me think about sex. With her. Just great.
I cleared my throat, picked up a box of tools, and held it directly in front of my crotch to hide anything that might be happening down there. “Outside.”
The sun bore down on us as I led them behind the archeology building.
There were tables filled with bins of muddy rocks.
They all required our attention. Water hoses snaked across the lawn, and baskets were scattered about, ready for the day’s work.
I stood there, clad in jeans and a T-shirt while my teaching assistants looked like they were auditioning for a reality show in search of a boyfriend.
Lina wore practical sneakers and tiny shorts that were absolutely inappropriate.
Things were dangerously close to falling out—front and back.
The top she was wearing hugged her tiny upper half and exposed her belly button.
What the fuck had I gotten myself into?
“Today, we’ll be cleaning these stone fragments from a dig site,” I began, gesturing to the bins. “Use the water hoses and brushes to gently remove the mud. Be careful not to damage any potential findings.”
Cece struggled, her heels making it difficult to maintain balance with the pointy tips sinking into the soft grass. She had thankfully been smart enough to bring along a hair scrunchie. She quickly wound it around her hand and put it on top of her head in a wild, messy style that was sexy as shit.
“I’ll be back,” I said. “Don’t ruin anything.”
I didn’t stick around long enough to answer any questions they may have had.
I strode across the grass and jerked open the door to let myself into the building.
I went straight into the men’s room. My cock was pushing against the zipper of my jeans.
It was painful. I went into one of the stalls and quickly adjusted things to give myself some relief.
I splashed cold water on my face and gripped the edges of the sink, staring at my reflection. This was insane. I was a grown man, not some horny teenager who couldn’t control himself around a pretty girl. But shit, the way that skirt hugged her ass when she bent over?
I shook off the arousal and strolled out of the bathroom and back outside.
The two of them were hard at work. Cece struggled to maintain her balance, those ridiculous heels sinking deeper into the soft earth with each step.
Sweat was starting to bead on her forehead despite the early hour.
I could see her jaw clench with determination as she refused to give up.
Part of me wanted to call it off. Tell her to go change into something more practical.
But the stubborn part of me, the part that was still irritated by her little fashion show this morning, held firm. I’d tried to warn her. She’d chosen to ignore my advice and dress like she was headed to a boardroom instead of a work site. This was on her.
“Having trouble, Miss Monroe?” I called out, unable to keep the slight edge from my voice.
She looked up, those blue eyes flashing with defiance even as she wobbled slightly. “I’m fine, Professor Stone .”
Every time she said my name, it was laced with venom. And passion. It was intentional.
Lina snickered from her position by the water hose, and I shot her a warning look. The last thing I needed was these two turning this into some kind of pissing contest. I had enough to worry about already this semester.
I walked closer to examine the rocks they had washed and put on another table.
“What are these?” Lina asked.
“They’re from a dig site I was on in Guatemala. I want you to clean the mud off them and see if they’re part of the temple structure or just regular bullshit rocks. Wash them carefully and use the brushes. Carefully.”
Cece washed the muddy artifacts, her determination evident even as everything went to hell around her. The ground turned into a swampy mess. I saw her left heel disappear completely into the muck with a wet sucking sound, and she had to grab onto the table to keep from face-planting.
I almost laughed but the thought quickly died when I saw Lina actually laugh. Lina was enjoying Cece’s discomfort.
“Shit,” Cece muttered under her breath, loud enough for me to hear.
I loved that she was unabashed. She didn’t pretend to be prim and proper. Neither did I. Cece was the kind of woman that lived her life without giving a shit about opinions. That was sexier than anything else.
While I watched, her right heel followed the other one into the muck moments later, both shoes now claimed by the South Carolina clay that had turned into greedy mud.
She stood there at the table without stopping her work.
Mud speckled those gorgeous calves, her perfect outfit slowly being destroyed by the reality of actual archeological work.
Strands of red hair had escaped her bun, clinging to her neck and cheek. A streak of mud somehow found its way onto her white blouse when she brushed her hair back with a muddy hand. The pristine, fuck-me outfit was becoming a disaster, and perversely, it was making her even sexier.
I gripped the clipboard in my hands tighter, trying to focus on anything other than the way that wet fabric was starting to cling to her skin.
I could imagine fucking her against a tree in the jungle or throwing her body on the muddy ground and plunging into her.
The professional thing to do would be to call this off, tell her to go change, maybe even apologize for being a dick about her clothing choices.
When she dropped the hose and had to bend over to pick it up, I knew things had gone too far.
“Lina, continue with the cleaning,” I instructed. “Cece, come with me.”
Lina flashed a smile. There was smug satisfaction on her face. She assumed Cece was in trouble. I ignored her and led Cece back into the building. She was carrying her muddy heels and doing her best to keep her chin raised.
The air-conditioning hit us as we entered, causing Cece to shiver slightly. Her shirt clung to her, revealing more than intended. I averted my gaze, reminding myself of the professional boundaries that must be maintained.
“What do you need?” she asked.
“It’s not what I need.” I led the way to my office and shoved open the door.
If it was what I needed, I’d be pulling that skirt up around her waist. My hands would be smoothing over those thighs that I had been sandwiched between just a couple nights ago.
I’d push her back against my desk, sweep everything off it in one dramatic motion.
Those heels she’d abandoned outside would be back on her feet, wrapped around my waist as I buried myself deep inside her.
I could picture it perfectly—her head thrown back, that fiery hair spilling across my paperwork, her mouth open in a gasp as I showed her exactly what happened when she played sexy games with me.
The white blouse would be torn open, buttons scattered across the floor, and I’d finally get my hands on whatever lacy little number she was hiding underneath.
But that wasn’t what this was about. Couldn’t be what this was about.
I pulled a pair of coveralls from the closet. “Here, put these on over your clothes. They’ll protect you from the mud.”
She nodded, taking the coveralls. “Thank you,” she said softly.
I stepped out to find a pair of sneakers that might fit her, eventually locating a pair in Felix’s office.
When I returned with the sneakers, I found her struggling with the coveralls.
The skirt had ridden up around her waist as she tried to maneuver the bulky fabric over her curves.
I caught a glimpse of white cotton panties that were damp from the water.
Or maybe they were damp because she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
The fabric had gone translucent, clinging to her in ways that made my mouth go dry. I could see the outline of what I knew to be one of those trimmed little landing strips. And fuck me, the carpet matched the drapes.
I should have looked away. Should have cleared my throat, announced my presence, given her privacy to adjust herself. Instead, I stood there like a voyeur, drinking in the sight of those generous hips, the way the wet cotton outlined every curve beneath.
Shit. I was no better than those frat boys at the bar.
She looked up and caught me staring. Heat flashed in her blue eyes. It wasn’t embarrassment, but something far more dangerous. Recognition. She knew exactly what I was thinking, and the slight curve of her lips told me she wasn’t entirely mad about it.
“Professor?” Her voice was breathless.
I forced myself to look away, jaw clenched so tight I thought my teeth might crack. “The sneakers,” I said roughly, setting them on the desk without meeting her eyes.
This was insane. I’d been teaching for years, had worked alongside countless female students and colleagues without losing my goddamn mind. But Cece Monroe bulldozed through every defense I’d built, every professional boundary I erected. Shit . Wrong choice of words.
I gestured to the sneakers. “They might be a bit tight, but they’ll be better than heels.”
She smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Thanks, Professor .”
I cleared my throat, stepping back. “I’ll see you back outside.” With that, I left the room, needing a moment to collect myself. Every second I was in her presence was testing my resolve to keep my hands off.
Back on the lawn, Lina looked up as I approached. “Everything okay?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“Just ensuring everyone is properly equipped,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. “Feel free to let me know if you need anything as well.”
“Oh, I can think of a few things,” she said quietly.
Great. Now both TAs were crossing boundaries. Unlike Cece, Lina was easy to ignore, which was what I did in response to her comment. Although they were almost the same age, Lina was still a child while Cece was a woman. I kept forgetting Cece was off limits, but with Lina, I had zero interest.
It was a bit of a relief to know I wasn’t suddenly lusting after all my students. Just the one.
Cece returned shortly after, now in the coveralls and sneakers, ready to continue. She didn’t even look at me. That was probably for the best. I was barely holding on.