To Professor, With Love

  I hissed a curse under my breath. Bastards. All three of them. I could tell every one of her past partners had hurt her, even if they hadn’t been like the first prick. I wanted to pull her into my lap and just hold her. Or maybe even show her what the good side of passion was like.

  But I restrained myself.

  She’d been staring out the front window, probably at the lights again, when suddenly, she looked over. “I read your paper.”

  Her quiet words made my already unsettled stomach roar with anxiety. “Yeah. You already graded it and gave it back to me, remember? We had an entire discussion in your office over whether I deserved an A or not. And how you’re going to keep my dirty little secret for me.”

  “Right,” she murmured softly as if suddenly remembering. “Yeah, I guess I owed you a secret, then, didn’t I?” She smiled but it wasn’t very happy. Her green eyes lifted. “I was so turned on the entire time you were blowing up at me, telling me to take that A back if you didn’t deserve it. If you’d have kissed me that day, I would’ve kissed you back. And more.”

  Holy fucking shit. I shoved open the driver’s side door and hurled myself out of her car. The cool air was a welcome shock to my arousal. But then she opened her door and got out too.

  “I, uh, I’m going to call my cab now.” God, that sounded lame, but she was drunk. I couldn’t do anything about all her confessions. Not now.

  She nodded, then shivered and hugged herself before she started toward the sidewalk, which led to her front porch. When she stumbled and nearly went down, I cursed a little louder and shoved my phone back into my pocket.

  “Wait,” I called, darting after her and catching her arm just as she tripped again. “Let me help you.”

  She swayed my way until she was leaning against me fully. I had to slip my arm around her waist to keep her upright. Fuck, who would’ve guessed she’d have such a tiny waist?

  Tipping her face up, she grinned engagingly. “It was the best essay I ever read, you know.”

  “Hmm.” I swallowed, refusing to respond, and helped her up the steps onto her porch. When she couldn’t seem to find her keys in her purse, I jiggled them to let her know I still had them after driving. She grinned and stepped aside, gladly letting me take over.

  “Your grammar still sucked ass,” she went on as I unlocked the door. “And you’d probably lose a spelling bee to a first grader, but...oh my God. It made me cry. I read it over, and over, and over. I even photocopied it like a creepy stalker, so I could continue to read it after I gave it back to you. And every time I look at it, I bawl my eyes out. For you.”

  Lifting her hand, she caught a piece of my hair and idly brushed it across my forehead to sift it out my eyes. The sensation of her fingers on me was like an electric shock. Powerful, startling. A complete rush to both my hormones and my heart.

  My mother had slapped me before for saying something out of line, or she had shoved me aside for getting in her way. Girls I’d hooked up with had dug their nails into my ass when I made them feel good. My siblings had huddled close to me when they were frightened. Teammates had slapped my back in congratulations. But no one had ever touched me like this, with pure, honest affection as if they wanted to take care of me.

  “You’ve been through so much,” she murmured, sympathy ruling her tone. “Have so much to deal with. I want to hunt down your mother and hurt her for what she put you through.”

  I sniffled out a sad smile just as I pulled the key free of the lock. But I was no longer in such a hurry to get her inside...away from me. I forced my attention back to the front door, but I wanted to keep looking at her. Stare at her just like she was—soft, sweet, and a little vulnerable—for the rest of my life.

  Her hand dropped from my hair only to land on my arm. Warm and soft, her fingers teased and seduced as they slowly trailed a scorching path down to my elbow.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I thought you were like him. But you’re not. You’re nothing like him.”

  Say what? I glanced from her fingers on me and up into her eyes. “Like who?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she sniffed and wiped her palm over her cheek, the move making her look like a little kid instead of an accomplished college professor. “He made me hate football players. Especially quarterbacks. He made me...he made me cold and lonely. Hollow inside. But you would never do that. You would never hurt anyone the way he hurt...”

  When her words trailed off, a burning hot pile of anger uncoiled in my stomach.

  “What did he do?” I coaxed softly. She didn’t answer. It only enraged and worried me more. “Aspen? Is he the one who…who raped you?” Shit. No wonder she’d always given me such a hard time. I reminded her of that.

  I hated knowing I did that to her.

  She turned to me and smiled softly. “You’re not like him at all. You’re...I don’t know. You’re something amazing.”

  I choked out a harsh laugh and pushed her door open with a savage shove. “Yeah, real amazing. I’m dirt broke, barely keeping my football scholarship afloat and about to let down the three people I care about most in the world if I can’t keep my shit together. And let’s not forget how I cheated my way to get here...or remind you of the boy who raped you. There is nothing amazing about that at all.”

  “Come here.” Aspen gently took my hand and led me inside her dark house. I followed. I have no idea why I didn’t even hesitate, but I went wherever she led.

  Once inside, I reached out, fumbling until I found a light switch. When a pale glow brightened the corner of a tidy living room cast in shades of bright blue, I glanced at her just as she glanced back at me.

  Framing my face with her hands, she looked into my eyes and said, “You are amazing, Noel Gamble.” Then she let out a drunk grin. “Geesh, I would’ve thought the star football player of the university’s undefeated team would be a little more cocky and sure of himself.”

  I shook my head. “You grow up the poor, dumb kid of the town whore and your peers beat arrogance right out of you at a young age. Literally.”

  She leaned in and rested her forehead on my shoulder. “But you have every right to be proud of who you are. You’re a survivor.”

  The tight ball in my chest made it hard to breathe, and the way her soft fingers felt on my neck as they moved down from my cheeks and over my shoulders was doing a number on my dick. “Why?” I demanded, my voice a little too rough. “Because I know how to throw a ball?”

  She looked up again. “No. Because you’re not just a pretty face in an empty shell. You love. You fear. You feel things so...so strongly.”

  When one hand landed just over my heart, I sucked in a sharp breath.

  It took everything I had to keep my hands off her in return. “Everyone feels, Aspen. Some are just better at covering it up.”

  “But you feel good things. Might be a little rough around the edges, but you have a good heart. A compassionate heart.” Then she kissed my chest, right through my clothes and over my heart. It would’ve been so easy to bury my fingers in her hair, to tip my face down and inhale her scent. But I didn’t, no matter how much it killed me to restrain myself.

  “Aspen, we should—”

  She lifted her face, startling me as she gave a pleased sigh. “I love how you say my name.”

  “Aspen,” I murmured, saying it again because I just couldn’t help myself.

  God, what was I doing?

  She closed her eyes and sighed again. “You make me tingle every time I see you.”

  Damn, if she wanted to talk about tingling... She licked her lips unconsciously, and my dick tingled from base to tip, turning as hard as stone.

  “I think I’ve been perpetually wet since the first moment I saw you walk into my class.”

  Jesus.

  A groan slipped from my throat. I gripped her shoulder, telling myself to push her back, but instead, I held her right where she was.

  “The first time you walked into my class, I felt this zing,
like a hot flash, cover me from head to toe. I remember stuttering when I introduced myself because I was so flabbergasted. You flabbergasted me. No one flabbergasts me. But then I learned you were Ellamore’s precious quarterback and it all became clear. He was the football star too, and I had such a huge crush on him. I think that’s my curse. But he only paid attention to me to make me think he was interested, so he could humiliate me...and then he hurt me. I thought you’d be exactly like that. I mean, I had the same first impression of you as I did him. Except with you, it was like...fifty times stronger. I just...I love looking at you. I love the sound of your voice. The way you walk. The way you smile and brush your hair out of your eyes. But I will never get over the way you love your family and how you’ll do anything to save them. I just...I wish someday, someone would love me like that.”

  The look in her eyes was obvious. She wanted me to love her like that. Strangely, the idea didn’t scare the shit out of me. I mean, I didn’t fall head over heels that instant or anything. But after listening to her spill the crap she’d just spilled to me, I wanted her to be loved like that almost as badly as she did.

  When I swayed forward without meaning to, she lifted her face. But I paused and closed my eyes, my jaw bulging as I swallowed down the temptation to take greedily. I had to stop thinking with my dick, because this had gotten way too personal, and way too emotional. And she was still way too...

  “You’re drunk,” I reminded her.

  She nodded, agreeing. “Really drunk.”

  “I can’t kiss you. I’ll be taking advantage.” Fuck, why had I mentioned kissing? We hadn’t been talking about kissing at all.

  But she didn’t seem to notice my subject change. “Okay,” she slurred. “Then...how ’bout I jus’ kiss you instead?”

  It happened like that. I didn’t tell her no in time so she lifted onto her toes and pressed her mouth to mine. I closed my eyes, trying to resist it. But the palm she’d been cupping my cheek with slid around until it caged the back of my neck. When her fingernails grazed the base of my skull as she combed through my hair, I shuddered. And her lips, Christ, her lips were soft and pliable. She tasted like Bud Light Lime and sunshine, and I couldn’t help myself. I opened up to taste just a little more.

  She mewed out a hungry sound, which had me cradling her face as I plunged my tongue in. God. Warm and wet, her kiss was everything. I could’ve done this all night. But…

  “If we don’t stop now, I’ll be an asshole.”

  “Don’t worry.” She tugged me back to her. “I already considered you an asshole.”

  I laughed only for her to kiss me again. A groan smothered my chuckle, and I drowned in her lips until I could pull myself back...only to curse and go back for more. She was so tiny, I grew tired of arching down to kiss her, so I picked her up, and she immediately wound her legs around my waist.

  Crushing her back against the wall, I kissed her some more, scoping out the cavity inside her mouth until my tongue felt as comfortable there as it did in my own. My lips didn’t want to part from hers, but there was so much more I wanted to taste.

  Living out my fantasy I’d had at the bar when I’d first seen her tonight, I buried my fingers into the part of her free-flowing hair she’d left down and kissed my way to the exposed side of her throat, and then onto her shoulder.

  I had no idea she’d be quite this soft, or smell quite this good. It fogged my head so that when I slid my hand down her perfect bare spine, I just kept going until I cupped her ass and grinded us together.

  Seriously, I didn’t mean to forage inside her skirt, but her dress had just sort of naturally worked its way up when she’d lifted her legs. When I did get a handful of her amazing ass, I found myself palming her silky black panties instead of her skirt. Realizing I was right there, my hand had to keep exploring up between her legs until I found the material damp, soaked with her slick, wet arousal. She was ready for me. Aching for me.

  From that point on, I was pretty much screwed. “Where’s your room?” I gasped, moving my fingers until she was squirming against me, her body demanding more.

  “Hall.” She pointed sloppily over my shoulder. “First door. Right side.”

  Fusing our mouths back together, I peeled her off the wall and carried her through the dim front room, only tripping once when I ran into a chair.

  She laughed and buried her face in my neck, which afforded me a few moments to focus on where we were going and delight in how warm and soft and perfect she felt wrapped around me.

  When I entered her bedroom, she reached past me to flip on another light. Her sanctuary was brightly colored and a lot less neat than the front room. The sheets were barely thrown over the mattress and clothes were strewn across the floor as books lay piled in every nook and cranny they could fit.

  This was her. The real her, not some stuffy, uptight teacher in front of a classroom. This room represented the woman in my arms, and I had a feeling not a lot of people saw the real Aspen Kavanagh.

  I carried her to the bed. Once she’d been placed gently on her back, she smiled up at me and lazily kicked off her fuck-me heels. When she reached out with both arms, I was drawn back in. Without thinking of consequences or morals or rules, I climbed on top of her and crushed our mouths back together.

  Unlike most of the guys I knew, kissing wasn’t just some pre-show for me to get a girl ready for the big event. Kissing was its own affair. I’d been known to do nothing but kiss a girl all night, until she was the one begging for something else. I could do it until my lips were numb and it was impossible to tell whose tongue was whose.

  Finding a girl who kissed just right was like a goldmine. And Aspen Kavanagh was the goldmine of all goldmines. She sighed into my mouth, her body warm and pliable. I buried my fingers into her hair, ruining the tempting way she’d fixed it.

  I have no idea how long we kissed, our mouths mating and forging a bond that went far beyond mere physical companionship. But when she found the hem of my shirt and skimmed her fingers up my abdomen, I was more than willing to repay the favor.

  “You’re so hard,” she murmured, the awe in her voice killing me.

  “And you’re not even touching the hardest part.” I grinned as my lips found her jaw, then worked their way down to her throat while my fingers explored under her shirt.

  “Feels so good,” she murmured just as her hand went limp and flopped onto the mattress beside her.

  My tongue paused on her pulse as my gaze darted to her fallen hand.

  “Aspen?” I glanced up to find her eyes closed and lips parted, her face canted away.

  The woman had passed out on me. My body screamed in denial while a far distant part of my brain tried to tell me this was a good thing. But I agreed more with my poor, throbbing body. This sucked.

  “Jesus.” Beginning to tremble, I rolled off her and landed on my back. Wiping my hand over my face to cool my heated skin, I blew out a breath before counting to twenty in my head.

  Then I craned my face around to check on her. Yep. Still out cold.

  This had to be a new low for me. I’d taken advantage of a drunk girl until she’d passed out in my arms. And not just any drunk girl, but the most forbidden one I could ever want.

  My dick throbbed in my jeans, pinching painfully as it crowded against the back of my zipper. After readjusting myself, I glanced toward Aspen to check on her again.

  Well, at least she looked at peace. For the life of me, I could not get my body to calm down. My hormones continued to rage, and watching her dewy lips part as she breathed did not help.

  Twisting my head the other way, I scanned her room for something to divert my attention so I could combat the lust once and for all and be on my way. One of the paperbacks on her nightstand caught my eye. On the cover, a bare-chested, long-haired dude leaned over to hover his face into the plunging neckline of some chick in a big, frilly dress. The title was something about denying a Highlander.

  A smile cracked my lips. I bet she didn
’t teach about these kinds of novels in her classes. I reached out and flipped the cover around to study it a little more fully. The woman lying next to me was a romance junkie. Strange. I hadn’t been able to detect that during any of the classes she taught. She seemed so clinical and profession when teaching, I never would’ve guessed she had a daydreamer inside her.

  Turning back, I studied her passive face as my chest filled with sympathetic pangs. Things started to add up. Her asshole parents had never taken her to a carnival. They hadn’t given her a proper childhood, but they had probably pushed her in school until she was skipping grades and excelling in education. I couldn’t picture her with a lot of friends if she’d always been the freak genius girl. And if the fucker who’d hurt her when she was fourteen was any clue as to what her life had been like, she hadn’t felt very loved or protected. She’d probably been alone a lot.

  And yet she read romance novels until the corners were frayed and worn. She still hoped for some kind of happily ever after.

  She was so much like me it was frankly freaky. We were split between two worlds. She was the frumpy, genius professor hiding romantic hopes and dreams. I was the stud playboy football star working my ass off to save my poor, broke family. What a pair we made. And what an ass I felt like. She wasn’t just some piece of fruit I wanted to sample because she was forbidden. She was a lot deeper than I had ever imagined.

  Slowly, I reached out until I barely touched her cheek. She sighed in her sleep and rolled onto her side facing me. When she found my warmth, she snuggled in close. I wound my arms around, hugging her against me, and she ended up with her cheek on my chest and her arm wrapped around my waist.

  It was sweet and comfortable and so damn agonizing to lay with her like that, I ended up kicking off my shoes and burrowing in, closing my eyes and burying my face in her hair.

  We fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, and I couldn’t remember a night I slept so soundly.

  CHAPTER THIRETEEN

  “Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, but only saps today of its strength.” - A.J. Cronin