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“What’s got you so scared, Eva? Whatever it is, you must know that I can help you.”
I jut my chin out, feeling defensive again. “All that digging into my past didn’t yield anything?”
A muscle in his jaw tics, but he doesn’t look angry this time. He just looks hellbent on getting to the truth, which might be even more terrifying. “It did yield pictures of you so drunk at a college party that you flashed your tits at the camera.”
“Fuuuck,” I breathe, my cheeks flushing. That one was buried so well that I even forgot about it.
“Plenty more where that came from, but nothing that would justify letting Romano use you. Nothing that would justify you giving me your body in all the nasty ways I want it just to keep that secret from me.”
“You can have my body, Micah,” I whisper. “But please leave my secrets alone.” I try to avert my eyes and signal the end of this conversation, but Micah’s grip tightens on my jaw, pinning my head against the door and forcing me to look him in the face.
“No can do, Professor.” His hand travels down my neck, then hooks into the top button of my suit jacket and tears down through all of the buttons in one go. “You turned out to be one hell of a mystery and you know what? I’m riveted.”
He grabs my top and tears it off of me with incredible ease. Before I know it, my bra is torn off too, and my suit jacket is pushed down my arms so that I’m standing in the shreds of my clothes pooled at my feet, wearing nothing but my ripped pantyhose. Lust flashes in Micah’s face, ominous, and ready to swallow me whole. I expect him to fuck the living daylights out of me right here and right now, but what he does is turn his back at me with a frustrated groan, as if it hurts to deny himself.
“Freshen up and get a new set of clothes,” he commands, raking a hand through his hair. “I’ll take you back to campus for your classes.”
I don’t move at first, not sure what to do with myself. There was no mistaking that animalistic need in his eyes just before and, if I’m perfectly honest, I wanted him to act on it. But here he is, stepping out onto the fire escape through my window, and lighting up a cigarette.
I’ve seen him smoke before. It didn’t happen often, but every time it did, he was leaning against his bike with his leather jacket on. But fuck me, he’s no less sexy in that navy blue shirt, looking like the campus golden boy. A change I can’t help think that he made for me.
A hot shower is usually the reward I give myself after a trying event, since I got off sugar and drastically cut back on the booze, but this time I go for a cold one, needing it to whip me back to reality.
An hour later, he brings his bike to a dust-raising halt right in front of the university. He dismounts smoothly, holding out his hand for me after I’ve taken off my helmet. Tucking the helmet under my arm, I look down at his hand, and then I glance quickly around the parking lot. Everybody is staring, and a group of girls is clearly whispering about us just beyond the hedges that separate the parking lot from the university building.
I freeze as I realize they’re my students. And they were in class yesterday.
“I don’t appreciate being kept waiting,” Micah says.
But what scares me isn’t his intimidating tone. It’s the ease with which I take his hand. At least I don’t look as awkward as I did in front earlier when I dismounted his bike because now I’m wearing suit pants, looking all fresh and dignified.
Micah interlaces his fingers with mine, and we walk hand in hand toward the entrance.
“Fuck, I love this about you,” Micah says under his breath, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think there’s pride in his undertone.
“What exactly?”
“The way you pull back your shoulders and push out your chin every time you feel awkward. It’s an adorable defense mechanism.”
“It’s not meant to be adorable,” I say through my teeth, even though I don’t really feel the fight I would if anyone else said that to me.
“Oh, don’t worry, it’s also one hell of a turn-on.”
“Stop it.” Or I might actually end up wet between my legs.
“Being turned on by you, or saying it? Because one of the two is fucking impossible.”
I refuse to dwell on how much I liked hearing that.
We enter the university hall, and the attention falling on us feels like the red carpet at a film festival. It weighs like a boulder on me, but when I try to disentangle my fingers from Micah’s in a feeble attempt to deflect it, his hand clamps harder onto my own.
“I need to get to my office and get some things,” I argue, still trying to move away from him.
“Not without a goodbye kiss, you don’t.” Micah yanks me into him, causing me to knock into his chest. He locks his arms around my body and turns me into his willing, melting prisoner. Whatever war he’s waging against me, I’ve already lost, the last flag tumbling to the ground when his mouth closes on mine in front of everyone.
