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“But I do want to eat you,” he bit out. “I want to devour you. I want fucking everything with you, Mia, and that scares the absolute fuck out of me!”
It hit me then. He wasn’t angry, and he wasn’t dismissing me. He was trying to protect himself.
He’s scared.
“Owen,” I whispered, pressing my palms to his cheeks before placing a soft kiss against his lips. “I’m scared, too.”
He swallowed hard, eyes closed like he couldn’t handle whatever turmoil was going on in his brain.
“I’m scared, but I’m willing to chance it,” I told him. “I’m willing to take a chance on you. On us.”
He bit his bottom lip, then opened his eyes to look at me. He looked tortured.
“You’re so young, Mia…”
“We don’t have to promise anything,” I hurried, watching him pulling away in real time. “We can just…be. Just for now.”
“I’m your professor. Hell, I’m your boss…”
“I don’t care,” I told him, meeting his gaze with what I hoped he saw as strength and resolution. “I know you won’t treat me differently just because we’re sleeping together.”
He sighed again, shaking his head.
“No, I wouldn’t,” he agreed.
“And nobody has to know. This is between you and me. Man and woman. Nothing else.”
“Man and woman that’s half man’s age,” he countered.
“Woman and man who woman doesn’t care what age man is,” I tried.
He gave a gentle laugh and shook his head.
“That didn’t make any sense,” he admitted.
“Sorry, I’m still a little dick brained right now,” I told him, which made him laugh again.
“I’m too old for no strings, Mia. Where is this going? Am I just your cock of choice while you finish your degree, then you’ll move on to greener pastures?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know what’ll happen in a year,” I told him, dipping my face in front of his, so he was forced to look at me. “But what I do know is that you drive me crazy, and you’re so smart and cool, and you’re the sexiest guy I know. None of that involves your age. My heart wants you, Professor Harlo. The question is if you’ll accept it.”
He shook his head again.
“Fine,” I said with a shaky voice. “Consider this my resignation.”
“Mia,” he said, trying to grab my arm, but I resisted. “At least let me drive you home. Fuck!”
The idea of walking the mile back to the dorm sucked, but so did sitting in his quiet car for several minutes.
Owen didn’t wait for a response. He grabbed a teddy-lined corduroy jacket off the rack by the door and slipped it on over his bare chest, then picked up his keys from the sideboard.
“I need my bag,” I whispered painfully.
He silently nodded, so I took the moment to gather my thoughts, and my possessions.
I didn’t know what any of it meant, him wanting to drive me home, or him saying he was scared, but obviously not willing to take a chance on what we could be.
