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An unfamiliar ringtone gets my attention. Great, he left his phone on the charger on the nightstand. It’s probably some woman who hewouldlike to fuck texting him for a booty call. I throw back the blanket and unplug his phone before I stalk across the room and pull the door open.
He’s standing there, his hand in the air about to knock.
“I heard my phone. Sorry if it disturbed you.”
I hear the words, but I can’t make sense of them. He’s not completely naked this time, but the boxer briefs do little to hide his still hard dick. There is no place to look at him that doesn’t make my mouth water. Heat floods between my thighs. His chest is chiseled, his abs ripple. And that bulge in his underwear twitches when my gaze lowers to it.
I thrust his phone toward him. “You left your phone. It made a noise.”
It made a noise? Smooth.
He doesn’t smirk, to his credit, since I’m acting ridiculous. But maybe that’s because he’s staring at where my t-shirt stops. My chest heaves trying to get enough air. When he finally meets my gaze, his eyes are blazing hot. Hungry. Needy.
“Aren’t you going to see who messaged you?” I ask.
“I don’t care who messaged me,” he says thickly. “Jesus. I can’t look away from you.”
“You seemed to look away just fine a few minutes ago,Professor.”
He scowls at the reminder of his social status. When he speaks, his voice is fierce. “I’m trying to do the right thing. And it’s killing me. You’re killing me. What I want...it doesn’t matter what I want. You’re forbidden fruit.”
“I am not fruit!”
He exhales loudly. “Sweetheart—”
“Professor Sanders, do not call me sweetheart unless you mean it. Otherwise, you may call me Katie or Ms. Trenton if you prefer. I will be out of the way by morning, and you never have to see me again. I can assure you I won’t be telling anyone how I humiliated myself on you like a dog humping a leg, so your reputation as the very honorable professor who would never sully a student is safe.” My hand is on the door, ready to close it right in his face.
“You didn’t humiliate yourself. Watching you come was the most erotic thing I’ve done in a long time. You’re beautiful and ...” He loses his train of thought when his eyes roam down my body. In a much lower voice, he continues, “You’re beautiful and you’re...wet. I can see it through your panties.”
Normally, this would cause me to combust into a human torch of humiliation, but the way he said wet was so reverent, so full of longing, all I can do is respond with a whisper. “Yes.”
He swallows hard. “You’re wet for me.”
“Yes.”
He takes his phone from my hand and throws it behind him over his shoulder. My eyes widen as he steps into the room. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“I’m sure it will pass.”
He scowls again. “You think I didn’t want to continue what we were doing on the couch? It took every ounce of willpower I’ve ever had to stop. I’m a professor at your university, Katie.”
“Yes. You’re right.”
“I’m too old for you.”
“I’m not arguing with you.”
“The minute I smelled you on my sheets I wanted you.”
I don’t respond to that. I can’t. My heart is climbing up my throat.
“The second I touched you, I knew you were mine.”
Am I dreaming this? I take a step back into the bedroom, and he takes a step forward.
“I can’t stop thinking about the sounds you made when I made you come. I want to hear them again.” His deep voice sends shivers down my spine. The tension in the air between us crinkles.
“Are you going to tell me it’s a mistake again?”
