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He knew he had behaved like an asshole at the conference, he also knew that Sandra was not the kind of woman to tolerate too much shit out of someone. He knew exactly what would happen, she would ignore him whenever possible, be icily polite when she could not ignore him and excise him from her life as neatly as if she were a surgeon and he was a bothersome boil.
She was a not used to loving and her cool exterior masked a passionate nature that he wanted to know better. He knew there were unplumbed depths to her, depths that no other man had ever bothered to try to seek out. Sandra was not a woman who dated a lot, he knew the sexual encounter that they had shared at the conference was not something she typically did, neither was the little scene they had shared in her office.
She had spoken at dinner of knowing that something was missing, and he knew what it was. She needed a man who was not afraid to take her by her hair and kiss her hard, so hard that her lips felt bruised afterwards. She needed someone who would love and respect her but still put her on her knees and stuff his cock down her throat until she could barely breathe.
He had wanted to do that very thing there in her office but he had known it was a little too soon, for both of them. The emotions she brought up in him were frightening as well as exciting, they were emotions he had not felt for many a year and he did not want to fuck it up by moving too fast.
A hand touched his arm and he looked down. The young woman had her hand, topped with ridiculously long nails painted in an extraordinary fashion and tipped with glitter of all things, near his forearm and was squeezing him with a familiarity that made him uncomfortable and angry all at once.
“You really should come to the book party tonight!” She was saying. He opened his mouth to demur but before he could get much of anything out Sandra broke free from the ragged little formation, pointed into the distance and exclaimed, “Oh look Connor! There is your mother!”
Connor, torn between laughter and, bewilderment, disentangled himself, muttered something almost unintelligible, and hauled ass up the steep hill behind Sandra. The advantage to that was the fact that he got to admire the flex and rise of her ass cheeks.
They made it to the top of the incline before she paused. The woman that Sandra had pointed to was already getting into her car, Connor did not dare look back to see if the student he had just narrowly escaped from was watching—he had the sinking feeling that she was and that she knew that she had been lied to.
“Thank you for saving me.”
“No problem.” She knew she was angry with the wrong person and that she had no reason to be angry but she was, anyway.
“I did not invite her Sandra.”
His quiet words eradicated her anger. He had not invited her and she knew it. He was sorry too that what occurred had cut off the conversation they both had been enjoying but it had not been his fault.
The two of them fell back into step as they walked through the campus. His residency had come with a small white framed house not far from the one that Sandra lived in and he could not help but notice how bucolic the scenery was.
Tall trees shaded the streets, neat houses that kept the faculty and their families on the campus sat on perfectly cropped lawns. Some had gaily striped furniture still out on their front porches but most were bare in preparation for the impending winter.
The sun shone down benignly and warmly, giving a lustrous sheen to the setting. Some students strolled the streets and a few blocks up where the dorm housing began hordes of people were gathered.
It must have been an interesting and lonely way to grow up. Looking at Sandra’s expressive face as she walked he knew he had fallen for her. He did not want to but he had anyway.
Holding out his arm so she could place her hand on his elbow he asked, “Could I walk you home?”
Run right now, Sandra’s inner voice said. Run like hell.
Desire Book 3: Love’s Trust
She did not run. Her flesh tingled beneath his fingers and a giddy sensation filled her. “Nobody has ever walked me home.”
He bowed. He stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk and bowed over her hand in a gallant and unexpected gesture that made her heart melt so rapidly she actually looked down to see if it had dripped out onto her shoes. “Well, if you had some books I would carry them for you too.”
Was that her giggling like a teenager? Sandra stifled those chortles and took a few steps forward. Connor walked alongside her, his long lean legs eating up the distance but never moving so fast that she had to hurry. He had a dangerous, prowling grace that made her stutter and her senses light up.
“Have you ever lived away from this campus?”
Sandra had heard that question before, ‘Not really. I know I have lived an entirely too insulated life but…but I am comfortable here.”
“Is that enough for you?”
The question ate into the heart of something she had been struggling with for a long time. “Why?”
He stopped and turned her to face him, “What if you met someone who could not live here, who would not live here. Would you leave?”
“That is a tough one. Luckily I do not have to answer that.”
She was right and Connor knew it. He had known her for a very short time, he was here for a year and there were no guarantees that what they had right now would last even that long. It was a moot point.
Or was it? He loved his home in Maine. It sat on a high cliff above the ever-changing sea. The house had been built at the turn of the century and he had fallen in love with its soaring stone walls, long sloping lawn and tall beveled windows despite the fact that it had spent over twenty years in a long decay.
