Page 1 of Not Mine To Love

PROLOGUE

I couldn’t help myself. I was feeling naughty. I settled into his lap and grazed my hips against his crotch. He groaned and clamped his hands around the small of my back.

“If you keep this up, I won’t be able to control myself.”

“That’s the whole point, Julius. I don’t want you to control yourself.” I took off my shirt then and let it fall to the floor. I wasn’t wearing a bra.

He seemed pleased as he greedily brought my body forward, bringing one nipple into his mouth roughly. His mouth felt so good. He moved on to the next nipple, bringing pain and pleasure again together in one place.

I loved the feel of his mouth against my skin. I loved the way my body responded to him. My body was his.

I stared into his eyes as he slowly lowered me onto his member. I spread my legs further to accommodate his thickness until he was fully enveloped inside me. I sighed as I began to ride him, enjoying the feel of him pressing into me, stretching me, molding my sex to his. He felt even bigger today, and I didn’t know how much pleasure I could take.

I came quickly and hard, gasping his name as I fell forward on his chest.

“I love you...” he said against my ear.

I tensed. Those were the words I wanted to hear, but why didn’t my heart respond with joy upon hearing them. Instead, all I felt was fear.

“You can’t love me,” I found myself saying back.

“What?”

“You can’t love me.”

“But I do.”

I moved to get off him, to break our physical connection because I couldn’t take the emotional connection that was clearly between us. I loved him, but I wasn’t allowed to love him.

I jumped up quickly and he sat up instantly, grabbing my hand.

“Wait—”

“I can’t love you, Julius.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Doesn’t matter.” I pulled my clothes on, and he did the same. He walked to the door, waiting for me to stop him, waiting for me to return the love he so readily gave.

Instead, I let him walk out the door. I closed the door behind him and blinded by tears I didn’t even know were there, I sat on the couch and cried.

1

I leaned forward, looked left and then right and then left again. Now was my chance, I thought to myself as I walked down the hall with my shoes in my hand as quickly as I could. After all, I couldn’t pick up speed in heels no matter how hard I tried.

“What’s up, sexy?” said an obviously inebriated dude as I quickly walked by him. I couldn’t help myself; I flashed him a smile over my shoulder, but kept on moving. After all, I couldn’t be caught at a college dorm. That would be way too embarrassing and maybe illegal? I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t gone to law school like I expected, so my knowledge of law was lacking.

I made my way out of the dorm without hearing too many additional comments about my body which I sort of appreciated since I was a lot older than the kids I just came across. I couldn’t believe it. I was twenty-five-years-old and still hadn’t gotten my act together.

And for some reason, I thought being past the prime of twenty made me more respectable. Funny. I wasn’t exactly doing anything respectable at the moment. I was being paid a flat fee to take pictures of a probable cheating spouse by a P.I. that I worked for every now and then. The work made me feel a little dirty, but I needed it. Being a full-time photographer didn’t mean I earned much. I shared a crappy apartment with my dad. I didn’t have a real career. I was a divorcee. I was pretty much a loser by most people’s standards. I was happy that I was an introvert who didn’t talk to most people because then I didn’t have to explain that I was twenty-five and still had no idea what I wanted in life.

When I finally made it back to my car, I sighed and looked in the mirror, hoping to see that I was presentable enough to show up to Meredith’s school program in what I was currently wearing. I pulled at my mini-dress and pretended that I didn’t notice that every tug made more of my cleavage show. Oh well. My hair looked respectable, at least. I studied my reflection, looking for telltale signs that I hadn’t actually slept last night. I had huge blue eyes, and they looked even bigger in the mirror courtesy of the makeup I had applied last night but hadn’t bothered to wipe off. I hated makeup, but I had assumed rightly that the college guys would more than likely let me hang out with them if I looked like a co-ed.

I brushed a hand through my hair and teased my curls. I had spent a significant amount of time with my head pressed against a dorm room window, just trying my best to get the right angle to catch the professor making out with his mistress. My hair had still gotten in the way even though last week I had cut my massive blonde curls back so that I would look a little less like a Disney princess and more of a respectable adult. I still got mistaken for a high-schooler, but maybe that was a good thing.

Speaking of school, I looked down at my phone and groaned. I was going to be late. I had to be at Meredith’s school in under thirty minutes, but there was no way I would make it there in time if I went home to change first. I sniffed at my underarms and shrugged. I smelled okay. I could still make it if I skipped a shower.

I was totally feeling pretty smug. I had finally gotten the photos I needed. After a week of following the professor around and trying to catch him in the act with not one but two of his students, I was a little discouraged when I kept coming up with nothing, but it all worked out. I now had incriminating photos of him doing some naughty things in a car and on his desk with two women who definitely didn’t fit his wife’s description.