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“Forever?” The word quavers from my lips.
“Mother-pucking right.”
He bends over the side of the bed, grabs a condom packet from his pants pocket, and unrolls it in one swift move.
Sliding back on top of me, he parts my legs with his strong hands and presses the thick head of his cock against my slick entrance.
“Yes,” I murmur. “Please, Paxton!”
One hard thrust, and he’s inside me.
I wrap my legs around him, and he pumps his swollen length into me, savagely thrusting.
I answer him with thrusts of my own, wanting his whole length. He’s so big that it’s almost painful, and he’s stretching me, and I groan in pleasure.
Heat is building up inside, and every thrust brings me closer until I finally explode and my whole body convulses. I can feel myself squeezing him as wave after wave of orgasm rolls over me.
“Ruby... oh, babe...” His body shudders as he joins me, and we’re so wrapped up in each other, our limbs tangled so tightly, that I don’t know where his body ends and mine begins.
33
PAXTON
“I’m ready,” Ruby announces.
“Damn straight you are.” Rowan nods supportively. Puck lets out a single bark, which I interpret as, “Go kick some Professor Nass ass.”
Ruby’s been mostly staying at my place, since someone leaked the news about the accusations against the professor to the press, and now they’re staking out her dorm room. It was too much for Clair, too. She’s been hanging out at Kennedy’s since she got bored with her boyfriend and ditched him.
This morning, though, Ruby and I came over to Mason’s so that they could offer us some moral support.
My mother has flown in too. My father and all three of my brothers called and offered to fly in and lay down some whup-ass if needed. I told them no, but I appreciate the sentiment.
“You look like you’re about to collect some scalps,” my mother says to Ruby. “I am very proud of you for this.”
“No making me cry,” Ruby warns her. “Although I am wearing waterproof mascara, just in case.”
Outwardly, Ruby is calm and collected. She’s wearing a navy-blue pantsuit with blue loafers that she and her lawyer selected. It has an I mean business look to it. The expression on her face is serious and determined.
Inwardly, I know she’s crackling with nerves.
Today is the day that she’s going to meet with the university’s disciplinary committee. The professor will be there with his lawyer. They’ve already released statements that were exactly in line with what we expected. The professor attacked Ruby, Marie, and the four other female students who have come forward saying they had affairs with him since he’s been teaching at the Institute. He called them a “delusional mob,” claimed that he was a victim of attempted extortion, and—of course—mentioned the break-in at his apartment, insisting that Ruby was behind it all.
He also vehemently denied the claims of plagiarism and has threatened to sue the forensic linguistics expert that Rowan and Mason hired to analyze his book of poetry. He’s desperately trying to argue that it’s not even relevant to his employment, since it was poetry, not an academic paper, but since it was the university press that published it, it’s not looking good for him. The poems are currently being analyzed by a linguistic expert brought in by the university, and Ruby is suing him for theft of intellectual property. It’s likely that the book is going to have to be pulled from bookstore shelves. Online outlets have already stopped selling it.
Ruby checks herself in the mirror one last time. Then she shoots me a severe look. “You must promise me that no matter what he says, you will not put your fist through his face.”
Mason and I exchange glances.
“You too, Mason,” Ruby insists. “Listen. He cannot hurt me with his words anymore. You want to know why? Because whenever he says anything, I just remind myself of the ancient and wise saying, ‘Consider the source.’ Any insults that he flings my way are coming from a deluded narcissist with a deep-seated hatred of women. I am long over caring about anything he has to say. His words can’t hurt me, but it would hurt me if either of you guys got arrested on my account.”
“I promise not to hit him, no matter what he says,” I say solemnly.
“Your hand is in your pocket. Are your fingers crossed?” Ruby demands.
“Maybe I’m just playing with myself.” Then I glance at my mother and my face reddens. “Sorry, Mom.”
“Really, dear,” she says reprovingly.
