Bad Professor (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (17 page)

Ford
looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "Have you ever been in
love?" he asked.

I
looked at the candles on the coffee table. Ford leaned back against the sofa
and sipped his wine as he watched my face. I shifted my glance to the
fireplace, then up to the record player crooning a bluesy ballad. I thought
about my past boyfriends, but nothing about those relationships compared.

I
had never felt such a jolt of recognition and desire as when I ran into Ford at
my father's party. Even when I caught my high school boyfriend kissing another
girl, it didn't compare to the depths of disappointment I felt when I saw Ford
was my professor. Now my heartbeat echoed his words over and over again. He
couldn't let that stop him.

"I've
had boyfriends, yes. I'm not some naïve girl." I defied the new sensations
even as they racked my body.

Ford's
lips quirked around the rim of his wine glass. "I have never thought of
you as a little girl," he said. "So, I guess the question is, what do
you think of me? Am I some old, lecherous professor?"

I
snorted. "Some lech, we've barely even touched."

A
spark ignited in his eyes. "What about that kiss or am I really so out of
practice that it had no effect whatsoever?"

The
memory of that kiss still spun my head like a top. I fought off its dizzying
affects and tried to sound cool and in control. "Out of practice?" I
asked.

Ford
turned his attention back to his plate. "I've been taking a little break
from relationships. I don't know, trying to atone for past mistakes, but also
there hasn't been anyone that stood out."

I
wondered if his self-imposed break had lasted two years. Suddenly the sore
topic of Libby Blackwell seemed like a distant and forgivable instance. It was
a mistake, and Ford had spent long enough trying to pay for his mistakes.

"How
do you know when someone really stands out?" I asked.

His
gaze flicked up to mine in surprise and he took hold of the new subject
gratefully. "It feels like you've already know them, or you recognize them
somehow," he said.

Ford's
words unknowingly echoed my thoughts and my heart leapt against my chest. I
pressed a hand to it to calm myself down. "Like love at first sight or
just strong attraction?" I asked.

Ford
set down his wine glass and leaned forward. The corner of the coffee table was
small in between us and I wondered if it was gone if I might fall right into
his arms.

"I
think I might believe in love at first sight," he said quietly.

"Really?"
I scooped up my wine to hold something between us. "That statement was
riddled with qualifiers."

Ford
smiled and plucked my wine glass from my weak fingers. "You of all people
should appreciate my desire to do firsthand research," he said.

He
set aside my glass and closed the space between us. I held up a shaky hand and
asked, "You would really declare our relationship to the college
administration?"

"So
there wouldn't be a single thing between us," Ford said. He captured my
hand and pressed it to his heart.

I
could feel his pulse racing under my palm and the pace matched the blood
rushing like wildfire through my body. Ford's mouth was serious but his lips
parted with a faint smile. I leaned forward, holding the corner of the coffee
table for support.

Ford's
lips brushed lightly against mine. "I'd lay it out on the line, just
please, tell me it leads somewhere."

I
slipped my hand from his heart up to curl around the back of his neck. I pulled
him close and parted my lips to welcome his kiss. We fell together and our lips
moved hungrily. Ford groaned deep in his throat and I caught his desire on
parted lips. He delved deeper into the kiss and our tongues tangled together,
tasted until we both gasped for air.

I
pulled back half an inch and whispered against his mouth. "There aren't
any rules holding us back anymore?"

"You
tell me, Clarity; I want you, I want all of this, but I won't push." Ford
pushed himself back and leaned against the sofa again. His eyes were a clouded
midnight blue, his lips still shining from our kisses.
 

"Was
it only hot when you felt like we were breaking the rules?" I asked.

Ford
gave a harsh laugh. "No. It was never about the rules or some illicit
affair. It's just this." He lunged forward again and caught me in a
searing kiss.

His
mouth pressed against me, demanded me to open, to give in, and it felt so good
I moaned my surrender. Ford was right. This passion that passed between us like
a crashing wave had nothing to do with cheap thrills or taboos. It felt as
natural and as powerful as a storm and we were powerless to control it.

"No
more rules," I murmured. "We're both consenting adults."

"I
consent," Ford panted against my wet lips. "You can have me, Clarity.
You can have all of me and there's not a single policy that can keep you from
taking what you want."

His
kisses, peppered hard and soft against me, dispelled my guilt more than his
words. My mind raced back to the first moment we met when we were simply a man
and a woman meeting at a party. The freedom of that thought felt like wings on
my back. I lifted off the ground.

Ford
sat back, fearful that I was getting up to leave. All I could do was shake my
head. I reached a leg over his seated body and slid into a straddle across his
lap.

"Oh,
god, Clarity," Ford's whisper was rough with passion. His hands clasped
around my waist.

I
leaned forward, capturing his strong jaw between my hands as I kissed him with
abandon. He answered by running his wide palms up my back, pressing every inch
of me against his taut chest. When his hands reversed direction and ran down to
the curve of my lower back, I whimpered with delight. He pressed me down
against him and I felt the surging press of his desire.

Still,
we were not close enough. I needed more of him. I sat up and slipped my shirt up
and over my head. Ford's eyes seared my bare skin as he let me unbutton and tug
loose his white shirt. When I yanked his undershirt up and over his head, he
sat forward and captured my lips in another devouring kiss.

The
press of our bare skin sent shockwaves of pleasure through my body. Ford's
hands traced up and down the naked curves of my waist and back. Then his
fingertips traced around the lace of my bra to tease the undersides of my
breasts.

He
broke the kiss and trailed his lips down my throat to the heated skin just
above the lace. When his tongue ventured out and licked the press of my
cleavage, I arched back against the coffee table. The shift rocked my hips
against his hardened reaction, and once I started the electric friction, I
couldn't stop.

Ford's
breath came in hot bursts against my skin as his fingers reached behind my back
and fumbled with the hook of my bra. The lacy scrap of fabric fell away and I
gasped as my taut nipples tingled in the cool air. Then an absorbing heat
pulled me to a new level of passion. Ford's mouth closed around one breast and
his tongue rubbed ever-widening ripples of pleasure from me.

"The
bedroom," he murmured and struggled to lift me from his throbbing lap.

I
stood up and pulled him up. When Ford towered over me, I couldn't resist
nuzzling my cheek against his muscled chest. The brush of my cheek undid him. Ford
caught me up in his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck as his arms scooped
my legs up effortlessly. In mid-air, our lips met again and I felt like I'd
broken free from the bounds of gravity.

Ford
spun us around and laid me on the couch. The blaze in his dark-blue eyes burned
away any thought of the bedroom as he slipped his body over mine. I arched up
to welcome his weight and grasped the hard contours of his back.

"Are
you sure," he whispered against my neck.

The
fire crackled and the candles glowed. Somewhere far away, my phone buzzed on
vibrate. The whole world was shut away and couldn't reach us. Ford and I were
all alone, wrapped in each other's arms. I pressed up against every inch of his
body and knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

"Yes,"
I said. My hands tangled in his hair and lifted his head so I could see his
stormy eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Please."

The
'please' was his finally undoing. With a guttural sound somewhere between a
moan and a chuckle, Ford captured my lips again. His hand slipped between us
and I helped him undo my buttons. When he pushed back to peel away my jeans, I
let my eyes rove over his sculpted body.

Strong
shoulders, a hard chest tempered by springy dark hair, and a tapered waist:
Ford was more than I had ever hoped for. I plucked at his leather belt and he
obliged with a burning look. Then he slipped back down over me and I welcomed
the hot caress of his bare body against mine.

Ford's
lips found mine and his kiss slowed to molten lava. I opened beneath him and he
pushed into me with a volcanic heat. Our kiss was punctuated with panting cries
as our bodies took over and the joining rhythm built up to a shared eruption. I
quaked under him and Ford wrapped me tightly in his arms.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

Ford

Even
without a buzzing alarm
clock, my eyes flew open at 5:30 am. Formative years in the Army had embedded
an early morning habit in me that was impossible to break, no matter what I had
been doing the night before. I squeezed my eyes shut and chased the remnants of
a very sweet dream.

Red
wine spilled into kisses from Clarity's sweet, plum-soft lips. I dreamt about
her body in candlelight, lit from a fire in my long unused fireplace.

Something
wasn't right. The flashes of the dream held tactile memories so real I could
still feel her soft skin under my fingertips. My hands flexed and my eyes flew
open.

Clarity
was curled up next to me in my bed. She murmured against the pillow and nestled
farther under the covers. I moved my hand a scant millimeter and realized she
was naked against me. The throbbing response of my body was nothing compared to
the tsunami of images that flooded my brain.

Clarity
straddling my lap, her back arched to let me taste her delicious breasts. Clarity's
red hair brushing my bare chest as she pressed her cheek to my heart. Her
moving beneath me, opening, as we fell together onto the sofa.

My
hand stroked up and down the bare length of her thigh and my vision was
unfocused by awe. I buried my face in the back of her neck and breathed her in.
She was real and she was really there next to me. My heart pounded against her
back and I closed my eyes to calm my racing pulse.

I
remembered the exact moment Clarity had let go. I was still shocked at myself
for admitting I would declare our relationship. The idea that I would go to the
administration and declare my feelings for her had lifted all the doubt and
worry from her deep green eyes. Clarity's quick mind had ran over all the
possibilities and seen that the policies that held us at bay were flimsy
excuses. Once she saw I would go above them and clear the way, she had let her
passion ignite.

A
molten wave passed through my body at the memory. Clarity had lit me up like no
woman had ever done before. The awkward innocence of her moves combined with
the searing hunger of her lips had burned me up completely.

I
hadn't even been able to make it to the bedroom. The brush of her cheek against
my chest, the tease of her taut nipples against my bare stomach, had been too
much. I had never lost control so fast and she had welcomed every inch of my
passion.

Afterwards,
we had stayed wrapped in each other's arms. I remembered rolling over and
tucking her against me. Clarity had sighed with such easy contentment as her
fingers traced electric circles across my chest. We had let the fire die down
to embers as neither of us had any desire to part.

I
released a shuddering sigh against the sweet curve of her neck. Clarity was
different from any woman I had dated. Even before I started at Landsman, I had
always held back. There had been reasons and obstacles, many made-up, and I had
always felt the need to keep my distance from the women I saw.

With
Clarity, we were close the moment we met. I remembered the intimate space
beneath the stairs, the removed murmurs of her father's party. Clarity had
strolled right up and fit into a place in my life I didn't know was there. She
filled a place in me that I hadn't known was empty.

Clarity
shifted in her sleep and responded to the strokes of my hand down her thigh. She
pressed her hips back, rubbing against my throbbing body, before she nestled
back into sleep. Every inch of me pulsed with desire for her. I was keenly
aware of every delectable, naked inch of her, and it took all my willpower not
to throw back the covers and explore her in the brightening sunlight.

She
muttered in her sleep, and I thought I caught the word 'expose.' Clarity was
fretting in her dreams about the article we had published and the consequences
we would have to face. I lifted my hand from her silken thigh and smoothed it
over her hair. The worrisome dream disappeared under my soft touch and I felt
her body relax back into a deep slumber.

It
was too early for her to wake up and worry. I kept still beside her, guarding
over her peaceful sleep even though my body burned and throbbed for her. I
eased back an inch only to give myself a tantalizing view of the curve of her
hip. My mouth watered, but I kept still.

I
pressed my heated thoughts into my pillow. It was a miracle we had made it to
the bed at all last night. Clarity had been languid and so comfortable with our
naked lounging on the sofa. It wasn't until the loose spring started to stab at
our backs that she shifted.

I
had pushed past the lump in my throat and had asked her, "Do you want me
to walk you home or do you want to stay?"

"Can
I stay?" she had asked with such an open, hopeful look that my heart
tumbled right out onto the floor.

I
had scooped her up in my arms despite her giggling protests and kissed her with
a possessive fire I hadn't known I had. Clarity had melted in my arms and I had
moved quickly to get us to the soft sanctuary of the bedroom.

The
second time we had made love was a slow exploration that had stripped me down
to bare want. Clarity was everything that I had ever wanted and more. The taste
of her skin intoxicated me, the catches of her breath were like music, and the
connection of our bodies so deep that I didn't know where I ended and she
began.

My
lungs stopped, as if any slight move would shatter the thought. It circled
around and around my brain, but I couldn't let it form. I shifted farther away
from Clarity and felt the loss of her warmth like something was torn away.

I
loved her. It rang inside my head, coursed through my already convinced body. All
I wanted to do was gather her close to my body and stay in the peace of our
shared bed.

What
would she say? Did she feel anything near the same?

Clarity
was young, she was on the cusp of big changes, and last night was probably
nothing more than a celebration to her.

I
shook my head. Clarity was different. She didn't do anything casually. My heart
turned over. We couldn't have come together without a balance; that just didn't
seem right. The blood pounded in my head as I hoped. Clarity had to feel the
same otherwise she wouldn't have given herself so openly to me.

I
couldn't breathe. I rolled over to the edge of the bed and sat up, but that was
as far as I could make myself go. I sat and watched her from the corner of my
eye.

It
would be better if I disappeared before she woke up. How could Clarity end up
with someone like me? All her optimism and enthusiasm was wasted on me. I was
too old for her, too jaded by far, and, now, thanks to my latest attempt to
regain what I'd lost, I was now jobless.

A
heavy weight clutched at my chest and I forced myself to concentrate only on
getting a deep breath. Why did it hurt so much to think about pushing her away?

Clarity
deserved more. She deserved someone as young and buoyant as her. I would only
weigh her down.

Unless
she pulled me up.

The
thought pushed its way into my head and then expanded. It took over the way
sunlight could fill a room. Clarity had already given me a spark of inspiration
and a chance to recapture some integrity. Then she had willingly given me the
sweet, rapturous feel of her body.

I
hung my head. This was bad. It was awful. I couldn't be in love with her
because the best thing for her was for me to get out of the way.

I
couldn't shield her from Michael Tailor. If the rich donor decided he wanted to
turn the screws harder on Dean Dunkirk, then Clarity was certainly going to get
hurt. After the internship was gone, Tailor would find another way.

The
frustration pushed me to my feet. Knowing the way men like Tailor and Barton
worked, I could guess that Clarity would have paperwork problems and any number
of bureaucratic nightmares. Or they wouldn't be so subtle.

Why
would Tailor be above physical intimidation?

I
thought of Clarity joking about a road trip but the idea seized me with a wild
thread of hope. She and I could take off over winter vacation and not return. Dean
Dunkirk would be able to settle the truth with the college president thanks to
our expose. There was no reason we needed to be around for the aftermath.

Clarity
would complain about missing school, but there was a whole wide world we could
go see. She would be safe and we would be together.

I
shook my head. I wanted to steal her away from the life she knew and the
gesture was not entirely unselfish. Some hero I would turn out to be.

I
stomped into my small kitchen and fought the urge to punch a cabinet door. Why
hadn't I thought things all the way through? We put everything into the expose
and left ourselves no small, torrid detail as leverage. All our cards were on
the table and I didn't even have an ace up my sleeve.

The
kettle barely fit in my sink above the dirty dishes. We hadn't touched a single
thing after dinner. In fact, I didn't even remember if we finished our food.

"Maybe
she'll run away with me," I muttered.

I
spooned out coffee grounds and hoped the caffeine would clear my head. The only
problem was I knew before Clarity was even awake that I would be lost as soon
as I saw her emerald-bright eyes. She drew out parts of me that I thought were
gone. For the first time I was seeing a future, but the best I could come up
with was an extended road trip far away from Clarity's home.

There
had to be a way I could shield her from retaliation. Barton was out. I would
have assumed he'd come after us too, but the look on his face during our golf
course confrontation showed a sliver of respect. Our business was over. The
mess with Michael Tailor had just started.

Clarity's
presence drew me back to the bedroom and I stood in the doorway. It was strange
to be so still while inside everything roiled. Her phone started to buzz. If
only she could sleep for a few moments longer, maybe I could come up with
something for her.

I
snatched up her phone and retreated back into the kitchen. The number was
blocked and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It could have been
anyone, but a cold flicker of certainty made me answer.

"Clarity
Dunkirk?" A heavy male voice tried to sound cheerful.

"This
is her phone," I said.

The
man cleared his throat. "I need to talk with Ms. Dunkirk. She had an
appointment with me on campus this morning and I have yet to see her at
Landsman College."

"Who
is this?" I asked. I crushed the phone in my fingers as I waited for him
to respond.

"One
of her professors. When is she planning to come to campus? This isn't something
she should avoid."

The
sharp edge of his voice cut my last scrap of peace to shreds. Tailor's men were
waiting for her. Most likely for a harmless conversation that would tie her up
in knots that Clarity would never be able to untangle.

I
hung up on him and tossed her phone under the sofa cushions.

The
scent of coffee permeated the bedroom and I heard Clarity stir in the bed. I
sat down next to her just as her eyes opened. She blinked at the unfamiliar
pillow, then squinted up at me.

"There
you are," she murmured.

Relief
made it easier to breathe. There were no traces of regret or even embarrassment
in Clarity's sleepy voice. She didn't jump up with a horrified gasp and rail at
herself for bad choices. Clarity was happy and relaxed.

Her
hand slipped out of the sheets and squeezed my thigh. "Can't we just sleep
in a little longer?" she asked.

She
slipped across the bed, the sheet pulling aside to give me a glimpse of her pail
skin. I leaned down and kissed her, sinking farther into her lips than the
mattress. Then both our phones started buzzing and reality dragged us back.

"Don't
answer it," I said.

Clarity
slipped on a Landsman tee-shirt I had left thrown over my bedroom door handle. She
padded on bare feet to the kitchen. "Ooh, good, there's coffee,"
Clarity said. "Have you checked the websites?"

"No,"
I admitted. "I've only been up for a few minutes."

"Good,"
Clarity smiled at me over the rim of a coffee mug. "I was beginning to
think I didn't tire you out enough."

I
slipped my hands around her waist and leaned us both against the kitchen
counter. "I slept like a rock."

"A
very solid, very warm, very comfortable rock," Clarity purred. Then she
peeked over my shoulder towards my desk.

I
let go and stepped aside. "Alright, fine, go check the websites, but I bet
I can predict what you are going to find," I said. I poured myself a cup
of coffee while she settled in front of my computer.