30 Nights (4 page)

It could also be a horrible mistake with unimaginable consequences.

This wasn’t something I could think about now. I had e-mails to deal with that had piled up when I’d been gone. My sex life would survive another day without me worrying about it. I carefully folded Great Glenna’s letter, slipped it into the bag with the sex cards, and returned them to my purse.

At the end of the day, my work completed and with nothing else to do, I sucked it up and brought them home. I briefly debated taking the bus to the graveyard to return the sex cards even after telling Jasmine that I wouldn’t, but realized that mistakenly putting them on the wrong marker would be a world of awful worse than keeping them.

For good or bad, they belonged to me now.

When I got home, I went straight to my bedroom, shoved them into my nightstand drawer, and did my best to forget about them. Tomorrow I’d go back to work and would concentrate on getting back into my routine.

Life should now get back to normal.

5

F
rom the outside looking in, I don’t have the most exciting of jobs. There’s not a lot of running around or crazy business meetings. There aren’t any products that I get to try out and make my friends jealous with. I read. A lot. I get to talk to people when I need to conduct interviews, but that doesn’t happen as often as I would like. Basically, I’m Professor Mickelson’s minion and I do all that I can to make him look good.

I’m a digger. The rummager of articles. The master of the microfiche.

I love books.

I hate Wikipedia.

And often I’m alone.

As a result, it becomes fairly obvious when someone is watching me. Well, maybe not watching me exactly, but certainly paying more attention than normal.

Friday had come and gone quietly enough. The weekend had been filled with family calls and the process of getting my life back to normal. Not once had I thought about the sex cards and how I might incorporate them into my life.

The Monday after the funeral—and my having brought the cards home—started out typical enough. I went off to the library and spent time in the stacks. With the students now back on campus, there was an influx of people milling around the building. It was so easy to pick out the freshmen and the post-grad students. Two very distinct looks on polar-opposite sides of the scale. Normally I’d take my time and do a bit of people watching, but I didn’t want to get pulled into playing tour guide accidentally.

Once I’d found the articles I’d been looking for, I signed them out and trudged back to our office. Jasmine and I shared a decent-sized room on the main floor of our building. The concrete blocks had been painted a moss green that seemed to glow strangely when the sun shone on them. Every time I came from the library I’d take the staircase that was on the opposite end of the building from our office. I liked walking down that hallway, as it saved me having to walk too long in the heat or cold, depending on the time of year. It also had the unintended side effect of taking me directly past Eric’s office.

Which, you know, total bonus.

His door was almost always closed, either because he wasn’t there or he was in a meeting. Sometimes, though, I’d be able to hear him talking on the phone or to a student and I’d walk a bit slower. Not that I was stalking him or anything. Okay, maybe a little bit. There was a long, skinny window that flanked either side of the door, so I could always sneak a peek of him and his potential companion. Those fleeting glances had served as fuel for my fantasies for the past year.

Good times right there.

I took my normal route up the stairs and enjoyed the shiver of anticipation as I approached his office. There wasn’t any sound coming from ahead, so I assumed he wasn’t there. Which sucked. I do enjoy my Eric fix on a Monday.

I nearly stumbled when I realized that his door was open and he was inside. I didn’t turn my head even as I awkwardly continued forward, but saw him working at his desk out of the corner of my eye.

I could have sworn that he looked up and watched me go. My heart pounded and I barely made it to my office. In all the time he’d been here, he’d never paid attention to me like that before. I was a distracted mess the rest of the day, my mind wandering back over that moment until I was damn near crazy.

The next day I had to go back to the library. I wanted to see if we had any first-person accounts in the archives that would support a quote I’d discovered the day before. It took me a bit longer than normal because the staff was busy helping new students and somehow things were already starting to get mis-shelved.

Once finished, I returned to the office, climbing up the far staircase and walking slower down the hall than I ever had in the past. I could see light spilling across the floor from where Eric’s door was open. The murmur of voices grew louder as I approached. That in itself was so weird, given that in the past year he’d been at the school he would always have the door closed if he was in a meeting.

This time when I passed I turned my head slightly to see Eric leaning back in his chair speaking to two students who looked terrified to be there.
Freshmen.
I barely caught Eric’s glance at me before I was past his door. There was no mistaking the full-on glance he gave me on my way by. My heart once again pounded in my chest, and this time it was accompanied by a full-body shiver. I wouldn’t have believed it, but yes, I was in fact turned on by a single look from a hot guy. Thank God Jasmine wasn’t there or else I wouldn’t have heard the end of it. Getting my literature review report done so wasn’t happening. Tomorrow, I’d have to be focused and not let my mind dwell on what it would be like to step into Eric’s office and feel the full effect of his gaze on me.

Wednesday came far faster than I’d hoped. I had absolutely no reason to go to the library, so I resigned myself to attacking my desk work. It was phone interview day, where I got to play the part of manager and grill potential student research assistants for my team in the upcoming semester. Professor Mickelson had given me the list of candidate names and contact information via e-mail, but little else to go on.

That was fine, I could totally rock the phone thing.

Except, I’d forgotten how mind-numbing interviews could be. It’s one thing when you get a great candidate who’s engaging, makes jokes, laughs at my corny lines. It’s quite another when dead air and awkward pauses punctuate rambling theories.

Jasmine proved once again why she was my best friend by bringing me coffee and jelly beans when I didn’t think I could take any more. There was a fan in the window going constantly in the summer because our building’s version of air-conditioning was laughable. Despite the calendar saying it was September, temperatures hadn’t yet turned and the fan was going full out.

I leaned back in my seat, the back of my neck exposed to the fan and my floor-length skirt pulled up to my knees. I was listening to a candidate telling me about their master’s thesis when I looked up and saw Eric walking down the hall toward our office.

There wasn’t much at our end of the building. The kitchen was on the basement level, the office supply room on the floor above us. We were the last office right before the staircase, which hardly anyone used. And yet, there I sat, listening to an actually quite brilliant theory about social media as a tool for the disenfranchised, and watched as Professor Eric Morris sauntered toward me.

He stopped in the hall in front of the door and looked at me. It wasn’t the subtle glances that I’d been firing his way for months now. No, this was a full-out stare that should have been creepy if it wasn’t turning me on so goddamned much. My hearing must have gone on me because I couldn’t make out the words coming from the chipper voice on the other end of the receiver. My entire awareness became nothing more than Eric’s rich brown eyes looking at me as though I was a strange puzzle that needed to be solved.

“Does that make sense?” The question from my candidate jolted me out of my lust-induced haze.

“Yes, it does.” I sat forward and pulled my skirt down. When I looked up again, Eric was gone.

And with him went the remainder of my ability to concentrate. I hired the next student I spoke to, though I couldn’t for the life of me remember their name until I received an email from them later that day.

I didn’t have an Eric sighting at all on Thursday, but that did nothing to help me get him out of my mind. That night when I got home, I was completely restless, frustrated by my unfulfilled fantasies. I’d spent the entire night tossing and turning, my mind replaying the previous day’s events with Eric in the hall over and over. When I would fall asleep, my mind continued to play out the scenario, with very different results. Eric coming into my office, taking the receiver from my hand and placing it on the phone before dropping to his knees and kissing me. Pushing his hands beneath my skirt and cupping my pussy. Pulling his cock out so I could suck on it.

So yeah, I didn’t sleep much.

I didn’t sleep, but I did masturbate. Plenty.

I guess you could say I completed the task on the first card to a T.

By the time Friday finally came, I was exhausted. It had been a whole week since I’d found the cards. The end of the week, the college was normally a quiet place. Students would take early classes and then would head over to the Social Club. This week was no exception, and our building had emptied out pretty early. From what I could tell, it was only Jasmine and me left on our floor.

Her phone rang. “Hello?” From the look on her face I knew it had to be Nell on the other end. No one else could make Jasmine grin like that.

I didn’t even wait for her to say anything when she hung up. “Get out of here.”

“It’s only two. That’s early, even for us.” She was already standing and grabbing her purse.

“You know no one is here. And if by some weird twist of fate a student or professor comes looking for you, I have your back. Now go. Be flirty with Nell. Drink wine.”

“How did you—”

“Oh please. Go.”

Jasmine grinned. “I love you.” She kissed the top of my head on her way out the door.

There I was, all alone on a Friday at the beginning of the fall term, sitting in a stuffy office. The piles of books on my desk were musty, and the heat of the office only made them smell worse. I would need to hang around until at least three before I could reasonably duck out as well. Not that I had any major plans for the long weekend. No reason to take off. Nothing but an empty apartment and a pile of sex cards that I couldn’t possibly use.

I picked up my pen and began to tap it on the edge of my desk. The noise echoed in the office. With a sigh, I set it back into my R2-D2 decorative mug and looked out into the hallway. It was devoid of any life, human or otherwise.

I sighed again.

What I needed was a drink.

I’d have to settle for a club soda.

Rummaging through my purse I liberated some change that had escaped to the bottom and made my way down to the kitchen and the vending machines. The basement hallway was far cooler than my floor, and the change in temperature as I walked brought goose bumps up across my skin.

The kitchen was as empty as the rest of the building, save for the hum of the vending machines and the clicking snap of the coffeemaker heating up. This time of year was strange and wonderful here at the school. Things would switch from hectic to dead in the blink of an eye. Meaningful conversations were few as everyone was still settling into their new schedules. Not that I’d have to worry about making any small talk today.

The vending machines lined the back wall like sirens, calling out to their prey with the soft glow of their lights and the mechanical song of a compressor whirring. The clink of my money hitting the coin collector and the thud of the can landing into the slot held my attention. The can was cold and sweating by the time I fished out the club soda. I didn’t bother to wait to get back to the office and cracked the can open, taking that first sip of fizzy goodness.

I smiled and turned to head back upstairs, only to stop in my tracks.

Eric was standing in the doorway. His gaze was locked on the can in my hand, and slowly rose up my body to meet my gaze. I swallowed hard, again shocked at the intensity of his brown eyes. Wasn’t that supposed to be an earthy color? Gentle and kind? It shouldn’t be hard, piercing, like a probe that could see to the back of my skull.

“Hello again, Glenna.” Holy shit, his voice was a rumble that filled the space, even though he barely raised it.

I held the can a bit tighter. “Professor Morris.”

We stood there staring at each other, unmoving. Jasmine wasn’t here to act as moderator this time, meaning I would have to get out of this situation on my own. The urge to flee was strong, but my curiosity was far more intense. He was standing there looking at me, aware of my existence, the one thing that I’d wanted more than anything in the year since he’d unpacked his first box of published studies in his office.

But the longer he looked at me, that his gaze flicked from my eyes to my cheeks and down to my shoulders, lower, the more I wasn’t certain that I could survive the power of his focus. I cleared my throat, finally looking away. “I didn’t think anyone else was here. Most people have left for the day.”

He took another step into the kitchen, off to the side. The doorway was now open and I could easily leave without having to push past him. Was this a silent invitation to go? Was he making it easy for me to escape his presence?

Why the hell would I want to do that?

“I got caught up reading a study.” The sound of his voice was less of a shock this time. He moved another step to the side, circling me. “I lost track of time.”

“Jasmine had a date so she took off early. I was going to use the opportunity to get some research done.”

He nodded. The muscle in his jaw jumped before he cocked his head. “What field?”

Okay, I could do this. Have a normal conversation with him. “Communication and cultural conventions. Jasmine calls me Sherlock because I have an uncanny ability to find bits of information that support Professor Mickelson’s crazy theories. He loves when I make him look like a genius.”

Eric looked back at the coffee machine. “So you’re good and he’s lazy.”

It was a statement and not something that I felt I could comment on.
Yeah, I’m awesome and my boss is an asshole. Thanks!
Instead I took a sip of my club soda and tried not to burp. “And what are you reading? The study?”

He tapped his finger on the tabletop before turning toward the coffeemaker. For a moment I thought he was going to get his mug and go. Maybe he did as well because when he turned back and crossed the distance that separated us, he looked almost as surprised as I was.

“Glenna.” His gaze was locked onto mine. “Tell me about the cards?”