Page 4 of Finally, His

“Colette?” His gaze continued to sear her skin. Or perhaps just being that close to him caused her body to heat up as if standing before a live fire, which made her aroasted rabbit.

She shrugged. “You took me by surprise, that’s all. I attended on a whim.” What was she saying? She couldn’t just say, “I wanted you to catch me,” but now? Her fingers trembled. They wouldn’t still.

“You signed quite the NDA to be there.” He shifted a little, and who knew the rustle of his pants legs would make her inner thighs quiver? “You waited weeks to be let in, even just for an introductory talk. I’d say it was more than a whim.”

“I was curious.”Curiousdidn’t even begin to touch her imaginings around what people did at Accendos. And the thought of whathedid there?

He leaned toward her, and a warm, male scent wafted her way. She squirmed a little in her seat as his proximity woke up different parts of her body, particularly one section between her legs.

“Anyone who ends up at Accendos is more than curious,” he said. “You can tell me the truth. In fact, I insist on it. Are you seeking someone to explore certain … longings?”

Oh, he truly did get straight to the heart of things—or in her case, her physical desires. “Yes. I’ve played … a little.” If she counted being handcuffed to the bed by a past boyfriend—exactly twice. “So, if you think I’d ever out you—”

“I’m not concerned about that. NDA, remember? I am rather interested to know, however, if you were glad to see me.”

She couldn’t answer him. Instead, she chewed on her bottom lip. The answer to his question would be too embarrassing. Glad? How about unable to contain herself with glee? She was scared out of her mind—so out of her depth—but she’d crossed some line that made her a little giddy inside, like maybe she was headed in the right direction for once.

“Colette?”

“I was.” She’d spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed, trying to piece together some composure over the thought of Professor Storm …doing things to her.

He cocked his head, andhis eyes glanced down to her fingers curled under her hem. His lashes lifted once more—and there it was. That look that had made her want to prostrate herself before him every time he singled her out in class six years ago. Hell, every time he’d glanced her way. He may be eleven years older than she, but that only ratcheted up her fantasies.

His last name, Storm, suited him. His aura wasn’t calm. The air swirled around him as if it was destined to circle him and only him. It was downright unsettling—and she loved how it made her body thrum with attention.

Unable to stare into his eyes any longer, she studied her fingers, now twisting in her lap. Then she let her gaze wander around his office. Couch. Diplomas on the wall. Anything to distract herself from the maelstrom of feelings arising in her.

Rough fingers scooped under her chin and lifted her face. “When you were in my class, did you ever imagine me doing things to you?”

Oh, Jesus.Things?How about a library’s worth ofthingsthat he’d already done to her inside her own head? If they spilled out to the world, she’d have to wear a permanent warning label:Woman steeped in smutty debauchery.

He arched an eyebrow, probably because her mouth had gone slack due to his touch. “Sometimes.”Please don’t make me voice it.

“I won’t tolerate a second of denial from you, little Colette.” He dropped his hand, and one side of his lips quirked up. “Isn’t that why you wore a skirt? For me to do something to you?”

“I often wear skirts,” she said quickly.

“I remember. And lucky me.” He rose.

She was only this ridiculously awkward around him. Truth told, she’d been with plenty of men. Let them take her, lick her between her legs, thrust themselves inside her. None of them interested her for more than a few dates.

But Griffin? The things she would let him do didn’t even have names yet. He could own her. His very existence was an unfair advantage over her. Only she wanted him to have that power, didn’t she?

He rounded his desk. The scrape of wood sounded as he pulled open the top drawer of his desk. He placed a thin dime store ruler, a steel pointer stick she recognized from some of his past lectures, and a bamboo backscratcher on the desk. He lined them up side by side.

She stared at them.

He stepped from behind the desk, leaned against the wall alongside a bookcase. “You can leave anytime. We can forget we saw one another at all.”

Forget? She’d need a lobotomy, and even then, she wasn’t sure that would work. Griffin Storm asking her if she wished he’d dothingsand providing … implements?

He was taunting her. Yes, that was exactly what he was doing. Did she mind? She didn’t mind. Not at all. It was a game—a thrilling chase.

She stood. “I suppose we could.”

“Forget each other? Or do something?”

“Something,” she said far too quickly.

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