Connor’s face didn’t change at all. At first glance he would seem unaffected. But his fingers… those gorgeous, long digits pressed together harder, changing them from tanned to nearly white.
“That’s a presumption on your part, Mr. Goode.”
Jules tilted his head. “It’s an observation, which is not the same thing. You teach that to your classes, right?”
The energy of the space shifted. Jules didn’t know if he’d issues a challenge to an angry bull or if he’d passed some secret test. He only knew he’d fight tooth and nail until he got a proper taste of his professor.
He needed it. He craved it.
Connor stood from his chair in a controlled motion. Slowly, he came around the desk and stopped before he reached Jules. Leaning back against the front edge of said desk, he crossed his arms.
The new position made him hover over Jules in a way that forced the younger man to tilt his head back in order to make eye contact. Connor was above him, far closer than he needed to be. He was close enough Jules to pick up his scent a clean, subtle fragrance that screamed money and power.
Jules felt like a bloodhound. Like he’d caught the scent of his prey and he needed to run, need to chase the object of his desire until he caught them. Except Jules wasn’t the true predator between them. Not by a long shot.
His body bypassed every rational thought and went straight to a part of his brain that did not care about syllabi orprofessional boundaries. Jules thought of nothing but what his professor’s skin might taste like. He wondered if the cock tucked away by thin layers of fabric would be as delicious as he’d hoped.
“Let me be clear about something,” Connor started.
His voice had dropped to a register closer to how he sounded in the club. It was controlled. Though Jules suspected just barely so.
The sexy professor continued after a long pause. “I don’t do this.”
“This?”
“Students. Men.” The second word landed harder than the first, as if it cost him something to say it. “Whatever you think happened at that club?—”
“Something happened at that club. You know it did. That’s why I’m in this chair, and that’s why you’re standing closer to me instead of staying behind your desk. This pull isn’t my imagination. It isn’t one sided.” Jules let the full brunt of his need shine through. It was vulnerable yes. But it was also necessary.
Connor’s arms stayed crossed, but Jules could see the tension in his hands. He was holding back, keeping himself in check
“You should leave.”
Jules’s brow rose at the statement. “Is that what you want, Professor?”
“It’s what’s appropriate,” he replied quickly.
“That isn’t what I asked. I want to know if it’s what you want?”
Jules stood slowly, giving Connor time to stop him, knowing he wouldn’t. They were close now. Close enough that Jules could see the slight dilation of Connor’s pupils, the almost imperceptible shift in his breathing. Close enough that the fewinches Connor had on him in height felt less intimating and more like a challenge.
“Tell me to leave. Say the words and I’ll walk out that door and sit in the front row of your class for the rest of the semester and never mention Veil again. I’ll be your student and nothing else. But you have to actually say it.”
The words didn’t come. Jules knew they wouldn’t because he doubted Connor could lie to him convincingly in that moment.
Gorgeous, dark eyes dropped to Jules’s mouth for less than a second. While quick, it wasn’t fast enough for him to miss.
“This is a terrible idea,” Connor stated, as if the words would warn Jules away.
“Yes, Professor. It really is.” Jules closed the last few inches between them.
Kissing Connor Thorne was nothing like he’d imagined. In his head, it had been smooth and natural. The culmination of a long campaign to get himself in the other man’s orbit. He’d close the distance, Connor would resist for a moment, and then the wall would come down and Jules would finally,finallyknow what years of wanting tasted like.
The reality was rougher. It was hotter and more desperate than he’d planned.
Connor didn’t move when Jules’s lips met his. For one horrible, suspended second, he was completely still. Mouth closed. Body rigid. Every line of him locked down in an obvious show of discomfort.
As Jules prepared himself to pull back, that was when Connor’s hand came up.
