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Chapter Two
Nick
Soft skin and sweetcurves. I nuzzle the neck of the woman beneath me, inhaling that sweet floral scent that makes the blood roar in my ears. But why is she wearing clothes? This is not the dream I ordered...and then she slaps me across the face.
I blink awake.
There is a woman in this bed. Under me. And I’m not dreaming.
“Wake up!” She’s pushing at me.
My senses are dull, slow to rouse. Unlike my dick, which is at full mast already. “Who are you? What are you doing in my bed?” I ask angrily.
“Your bed? You’re in my bed. And I don’t care if you are a professor, you can’t just—”
I lift up off her some. Shit, is she a student? This is not good. I’ve had issues with a few young women over the years...and one young man...but nothing as blatant as breaking into my house and climbing into my bed. Usually they just try to seduce me in my office.
Maybe she’s not even here for me. She could be one of my brother’s conquests.
“Are you looking for Devon?” I ask. “He’s not here.”
Fuck me, but she’s pretty. She’s got a heart-shaped face with freckles under those glasses. Her lips look sweet and luscious, and piles of blonde waves spill over the pillow under her head.
I rub my face, my hand rasping on the days-old stubble while I try to wake up the rest of the way. Something pinches in my chest, and I realize I’m jealous of my brother. She’s so soft, her body the perfect cushion.
She’s rambling and my brain is trying to catch up. She’s what? “What did you just say?”
She shivers a little beneath me. Enough to make me feel like shit for making her feel vulnerable. Enough to draw out my protective instincts. Now is not the time to wrap my arms around her and tell her she’s going to be okay. That would be a very bad idea and do the exact opposite of reassuring her she has nothing to fear from me. Also, I don’t think I could stop there.
“I said I’m house-sitting for Devon, who, I’m just putting together now, is your brother? Anyway, he didn’t tell me you had a key or you were coming and this is my bed and you really, really need to get off me, Professor. I’m sorry I woke you, but you’renaked.”
Oh, shit. This is bad.
“I’m sorry.” I roll off her, reluctantly, and make sure the sheet is covering the evidence of my dream. “This isn’t Devon’s house. It’s mine. He’s supposed to be house-sitting for me. He didn’t tell me he sublet to anyone.”
She sits up on her elbows. Jesus, those breasts are so firm and round under her Ironwing t-shirt. Her eyes are wary though. Hell, there’s no way she didn’t feel the weight of my dick pushing into her. It’s harder than it’s ever been. Her eyes are a little unfocused. Dazed.
I want to sip at her lips until she opens them and takes my tongue in her mouth. I want to paint over that lip gloss with the precum from my cock until she opens and takes that in her mouth, too. I’ve never been punched so hard with desire before.
She licks her lips, and I groan, but I’m not sure she notices since she starts speaking. “He didn’t tell me that it wasn’thishouse. He just said he had a family emergency and needed someone to watch his house for a few months.” She stops talking and takes a deep breath, a sweet shade of pink stealing over her face as her gaze lowers to my waist and back up. Yeah, hard-on still visible even under a sheet.
I’ve seen a lot of pretty college girls over the years, but none have affected me like this. Like I’m toeing the line of Man vs. Neanderthal. “Maybe we should talk in the other room,” I suggest. Before I lose control.
