Dirty Professor (11 page)

"She seems so flattered that he pays attention to her, even after they've done it multiple times," Emme observes. "I think that's good. You can make her build her self-esteem over the course of the story. But after how many times will that start to happen?"

"I, uh, haven't gotten that far yet."

"That's okay," Tommy puts in. "She's definitely discovering herself. She's not going to be some super-confident vixen right away."

"But she sounds like she's headed that direction," Marcus, who's nice but never smiles, says. He shifts in his chair next to Luna, who's gazing down at her own papers. "She's already cool with calling him sir and being whacked."

"That's hot," Tommy says.

"I don't know," Marcus counters, training his eyes on me. "It kind of sounds weird."

I swallow, not sure how to answer that.

"It's a brave story." Chase could not be more calm and analytical as he offers his critique. "Keep pushing yourself. You have a character with real relatability and flaws, and if there's anything I can't stand, personally, it's a too-perfect character."

"Isn't Bryce Bowker kind of perfect?" I ask.

"He's got some ego going," Chase replies, not missing a beat. "I think you could say that's a flaw. Your character you've got going, there, now she's almost Bryce's opposite. That takes guts to write and talent to write convincingly."

She's definitely flawed. Chase is right about that.

I hurry through the quad after class, wishing summer could last a little bit longer. Only tourists carry umbrellas, which is true of pretty much the entire Pacific Northwest, but in weather like this, I always secretly wish I could cheat and bust one out.

I fumble through my purse for my keycard, and of course it's at the very bottom. Keys, wallet, compact, mints. I finally unearth the keycard-- Drummond Residence Hall, with a goofy picture of me smiling. I look at the sweet virgin in the picture for a second. She has no idea. Letting myself into my building, I take a last look outside at the nonstop drizzle. A figure clad in black is standing on the cobblestone walkway at the path to my dorm door.

My heart seizes.

Luna.

I can't see her eyes from here, but her face remains on me for several seconds before she looks away and continues on the walkway, past Drummond Hall, towards... wherever it is she's going.

C
HASE

I finish killing Bryce Bowker a week after Luna catches Addison and me at Drake’s.

I’ve spent the past seven days writing, finishing the book, finishing the series, killing him off.

As soon as I type the end, I pick up the phone and call Addison.

“Hello?” she says when she answers.

My heart clenches at her voice. I haven’t called her for a week, ever since that day at Drake’s. I told myself it was because I was protecting her, that I needed to take some distance, that I needed to work on my book. But now that I hear her voice, now that I remember the way she was looking at me that day in the restaurant, I wonder if I was mostly protecting myself.

“Come over,” I say immediately.

“Who is this?”

“Don’t be smart, Addison. My house. Fifteen minutes.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You can’t just call me up and demand me to come over.”

“I wasn’t demanding. I was asking.”

“It sounded like a demand.”

“I miss you,” I say softly.

“Then why haven’t you called?”

“I’m stupid.”

No answer.

“I was working on my book. I finished it.”

“You did?” she asks, her voice softening.

“If you come over, I’ll tell you what happens.”

She hesitates, and suddenly fears strikes my heart, fear that I might not be able to see her, fear that she really might say no.

“Addison,” I say. “Please?”

“Fine.” She sighs. “Give me half an hour.”

She gets there forty-five minutes later, and the blood rushes to my cock as soon as I open the door for her. She’s wearing the sexiest outfit I’ve ever seen. A black miniskirt with a tiny slit up the side and a tight white tank top with no bra.

“Jesus,” I breathe.

"Luna is being super weird,” she says, pushing past me and into the house.

"Oh?" Who the fuck cares about Luna when Addison is dressed like that? I haven't even noticed Luna giving Addison so much as a second look in my class. I haven't made them start critiquing each other's work again yet, and I'm not sure I want to. "Posted some pictures online of everyone having conga night without you?" I guess, catching a whiff of her fruity shampoo.

"Nope, not since last week. And it was bowling." She scowls. "I'm not positive, but I think she might be following me." She turns and looks out the window that’s next to the door, back toward the street.

"Okay, that's a little paranoid." I’m distracted. I can’t stop looking at her ass in that skirt.

"I know it
sounds
like that," she says, still looking out the window, "but I saw her walking past my dorm twice. And last night, I saw Emme at the pizza place, and then ten minutes later, Luna showed up."

"Well, aren't they friends?" I push my chest against her back, brush her hair away from her neck and inhale her fruity scent. God, she’s so fucking sexy. I tower over her, and from this vantage point, I have a great view down the front of her top.

"Emme wasn't eating with Luna. She was with a guy, and Luna never came inside. I just saw her out the window."

Okay, that's a little weird. "She was just standing outside, looking through the window?"

"Well, her body was faced sideways, like she was walking down the street. But she was standing still, and definitely looking in."

"Small town," I remind her. But I can't lie, Luna peeping through a window, even from a passerby position, does sound sketchy.

"I don't know if Emme texted her that I was there, or what. Maybe Luna just happened by." She didn't sound convinced. "And if Emme texted her, and Luna was in the neighborhood, why didn't she come in and say hi?"

"I can't answer that, except to say that it's hard to
not
be in the neighborhood here. But maybe they'd seen enough of each other that day, or something. Or maybe Emme was on a date and Luna didn't want to interrupt."

"Maybe." Addison's scowl returns. "It just felt a little odd."

“I guess.” I put my hands on her hips and turn her around slowly until she’s facing me. “Enough about Luna.”

I kiss her softly on the mouth, ready to distract her.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she says forcefully.

“Excuse me?”

“I said I’m not sleeping with you.”

She goes to slip by me into the living room, but I grab her by the waist and push her up against the door. “Don’t be mad, baby,” I say, my voice a growl. I let my hands roam her body, palming her left tit through the sheer fabric of her tank top. “Jesus, I can’t believe you left the house dressed like this.”

“I’m not mad,” she says. “I just don’t think it’s okay that you didn’t call me for a week.”

“I wanted to,” I say honestly, and now my hands are moving over her thighs, up under her tiny little skirt, pushing it up. She’s wearing the silkiest little pair of panties I’ve ever felt, and my cock is rock fucking hard.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I was busy.”

“Not good enough.”

“Don’t say no to me, Addison,” I breathe into her ear. “If you say no to me, I’ll have to punish you.” My hands are still on her hips, on the tiny strings that are holding the front and back of her thong together. “If you didn’t want to be fucked, you wouldn’t have worn this outfit.”

“Chase,” she says. “You can’t just…”

“I can’t what, baby?” I say, and now I’m unbuttoning her skirt, sliding the zipper down and tugging it down her hips until it pools around her feet on the floor.

“You can’t just tell me what to do.”

“Yes,” I say. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Step out of your skirt.” She opens her mouth to protest, but I brush my thumb over the outside of her panties.

Her breath hitches as he steps out of her skirt and I kick it off to the side. Pesky thing. As sexy as she looked in it, she looks much sexier out of it. “Now get down on your knees,” I tell her. “Get down on your knees and suck me off.”

She fumbles with my belt and zipper until my cock springs free, and then she’s wrapping her mouth around my shaft, her tongue and lips working together. I’ve taught her well, and I can’t believe how far she’s come in such a short amount of time, how good she sucks cock now.

“Good girl,” I say. “Just like that baby, Jesus.”

She sucks harder and I gather her hair in my hands, fucking her mouth, watching her bob up and down. My hand slides over the swell of her breast, dipping into the top of her tank, working her tits free until they’re out of her bra.

They bob and bounce with her movements, and I hold onto one of them, using it for leverage as she blows me.

I hiss out a breath between my teeth as she licks my shaft from root to tip, then takes it down my throat like a popsicle.

“Lick my balls,” I say and even though she’s never done it before, there’s no hesitation. I stroke my shaft while she sucks my balls into her mouth, rolling them over her tongue.

“Fuck, baby,” I say, pulling her off of me. “You suck so good, and I don’t want to come in your mouth. I want to come in your pussy.”

I pick her up and slide her up against the door, spread her legs and push her panties to the side. “God, you are so beautiful,” I say, my breath catching.

“Chase,” she says. “God, Chase, I …”

I kiss her, afraid of what she’s going to say, afraid if she says what she’s about to say, I’m going to have to say it back before I can stop myself.

My hands tighten around her waist as I slide into her.

She wraps her hands around my shoulders as I slide into her, fucking her, making her take my whole shaft. I push her up against the door, holding her steady.

“Don’t move. Stay still.”

She cries in frustration, but I make her hold still while I work my hips into her, giving it to her good. Over and over and over, I piston and rock into her pussy, in and out, in and out, making her watching my hard dick disappear into her tight little channel.

“I lied, baby,” I grunt.

“What?” she manages, her eyes wide.

“I’m not going to come in your pussy. I’m going to come all over it.”

I pull out of her and slide across her slick folds, teasing her. Then I reach down and rub her clit, harder and harder until she comes on my fingers as my dick spurts out, my come landing on her stomach, drops of it sliding down across her pussy. I rub the come into her clit.

Seeing her covered in me is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

I lower her legs to the ground, but I can tell she’s wobbly.

So I carry her to the shower, then wrap her up and take her to my bed.

**

"I think I'm in shock,” Addison says a few minutes later as she twists her still-damp hair into a ponytail. She doesn't have anything to tie it with, so she lets it drop. "I mean, I knew you were probably going to, but wow. You really killed him off?"

"Sure did." It feels good to tell someone. I run my fingers down her side, enjoying the softness of her skin. "He's out of here."

"Wow. How does he die? Do I want to know?"

“You'll have to wait and see. But Dr. Bowker is no more. I've got to fill in some stuff, but it’s essentially done. I just couldn't wait any longer."

Addison fixes her eyes, bluish and almost gray in this light, on me. "Thank you for telling me."

"You're the only one who can know."

"That goes without saying."

"I know."

I study her, and she looks like she's ruminating on Bryce's death. But when she opens her mouth, she says something totally unrelated. "I wish I could be a writer."

"You are a writer."

"I mean for a career. Like you."

"You could," I tell her, touching a strand of her hair. "If you really wanted to. All you have to do is get out of that business mess."

"I can't do that." Her voice is flat, like it's zapped of energy. "You know that. I just... my fucking parents."

Her fucking parents indeed. I hate how they have such a hold on her, even from over two hours away. "At some point, you're either going to stand up to them, or find yourself miserable and wishing you had."

"Maybe I can go ahead and major in business, and then just be a writer with a business degree."

"Perhaps. But then you'll have to explain to your parents why you're not applying for business jobs. Or that you're quitting one." I look her square in the eye. "Do you seriously want to keep going with business school? Do you enjoy the classes? Do you
really
want to intern for some corporation and do the rat race thing, just for the sake of keeping your parents off your ass? Even if you do plan to leave that someday, how long are you going to keep that up?"

Addison's lower lip trembles, but she shakes her head and clears her throat. "I'm going to do what I have to do."

"Okay.”

She sighs and we lapse into silence. A second later, she turns over. “I should get dressed.”

"Are you leaving?" My heart clenches. I want her here, with me, in my bed.

"I think so," she says. "I've got some reading to do, and Kensie asked me again why my mom keeps coming into town. I'm worried she'll say something when my mom really does come into town, like 'Why are you here so fucking often?'"

"Okay." I give her a deep, long kiss. "I'll miss you, though."

After she’s dressed, I walk Addison out. The rain's let up a little, and I wrap my arms around her, enveloping her in a hug, enjoying how small and delicate she feels against me.

It's only because we remain standing in my driveway, looking out at the gray weather that can't decide if it's going to rain again or not, and not wanting to let go of this hug, that I hear the snap of a fallen tree branch. Like someone stepped on it.

Addison hears it too. I can tell by the way she snaps her head toward the sound. "What was that?" she whispers.