Dirty Professor (30 page)

“Neil Perry,” I said.

“…told him it wanted to fly.”

“Such a great scene,” I said. I felt happiness bubbling up as I heard true excitement in Leo’s voice.

“And Neil’s parents,” he said, his eyes focused on nothing outside the windshield of his shiny car. “They’re miserable human beings who insisted on making their son just as miserable. I thought he was going to shoot his dad for a while there.”

“Yeah, but what about letting yourself be free, like Mr. Keating encouraged them all to be? Especially creatively free. Not letting anyone or anything hold you back?” As I said the words, I realized how closely it all mimicked his life—sans suicide, of course.

“Exactly,” he said. He finally turned to look at me, his eyes bright with thought. “Thank you, Sophie. Thank you for showing me your favorite movie.”

I smiled. “You liked it?”

“I loved it,” he said.

I turned to better face him. “So is there anything you’d like to say to me, then, Mr. Armstrong?” I asked coquettishly. He looked at me curiously. “Something along the lines of, ‘I was wrong about the movie, and you were right’? Ring a bell?”

He leaned across the seats toward me, lightly touching my chin. I held my breath as his lips moved closer to mine. When he kissed me, I felt the air rush through me, and I wondered if the feeling would ever end. I certainly hoped not. He pressed closer to me, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, and I loved the taste of him. It all felt so real and so normal, and I wanted the moment to last forever.

“Not a chance,” he said, making me laugh but roll my eyes.

“The ego on you,” I said.

“My place?” he asked. As usual, his kisses scrambled my mind so much that I couldn’t speak sensible words. All I could do was nod yes.

We were hardly off the elevator of his apartment before we were clawing the clothes off each other. It was like we were starving, and the only thing that could fill us up was each other. His mouth devoured my neck as his hands slipped under my blouse, feeling up my ribs until he was sliding it off over my head, tossing it aside. My mind became so frazzled in these moments, not knowing whether I should go for his shirt first and feel that hard, strong chest, or go straight for his pants for what I really wanted. I started with his shirt, although I almost ripped the buttons off I was so eager.

Leo paused and stepped away from me, panting. His lips were red with the force of his kisses, and I had no doubt mine looked the same. He took my hand and guided me up the curving staircase and into his bedroom. Windows surrounded the room, the view similar to the one on the balcony, directly below us. He kept the lights off, letting the city’s glow fill the room just enough to see each other—to see his ever-hungry look.

“You ever get lonely in this big apartment all by yourself?” I asked because, honestly, the place was big enough for a family of ten.

“I’m never lonely when you’re around,” he said, pulling me to him. His skin was hot on mine, and I felt us melting into each other. My hands wrapped around to his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles down his back. I ran my hands over the back of his jeans, cupping his firm ass in my hands, feeling his strength wherever I touched.

Leo suddenly picked me up and tossed me onto the bed—literally tossed me. I laughed as I bounced across the ocean of sheets, but stopped when he crawled across the mattress toward me like a lion. He was on top of me in a flash, his strong arms blocking me in, and I ran my hands up them, slowly, feeling every ripple of muscle. He leaned down into me, and when our lips met again, my breath finally came back.

Even after what he’d done to me earlier that same evening in his office, I needed more. I always needed more of him. I was starting to realize I needed all of him, all the time. He seemed to feel the same. We both ripped off our remaining clothes, and then Leo grabbed my hips and pulled me down closer to him. In quick time he slid into me, making me gasp with pleasure, and as he thrust in and out of me he kept his eyes on me, never looking away. I was mesmerized by the beauty of those eyes and by the perfect feeling of Leo inside of me, moving and filling me and making me feel like at any moment my entire body might explode with satisfaction. He continued his thrusting until we were both sweating, my hips angled up toward him.

“Leo, come with me,” I said, because I was so close.

But he stopped and flipped my body over as easily as a pancake until I was on my stomach. He never left my body. He took my hips again and pulled me up on my knees, then gently pushed my shoulders down until I was ass up. As he began moving again the new sensation made me cry out a new, the angle of his dick pushing down on my clit. I begged Leo to push harder, go deeper, get more of me, and he complied.

“Sophie,” he cried out, a grunt mixed with passion, and he exploded inside me. I felt some of his juices run down my legs, and I kept pushing back into him to get every last drop.

Afterward, as the world came back into focus, we settled on the pillows and under the sheets properly, facing each other. Leo had a little grin on his face, and I stroked his sharp jaw, feeling the stubble touching his smile. I ran my fingers through his hair, which made his eyes fall slowly shut. He whispered my name, and in that moment I felt possibly more connected to him than I had when we made love. My heart ached for him. I felt those three little words deep in my chest, beating inside me as clearly as my heart thumped at his every breath.

But I didn’t dare say them. I didn’t know what to do with the words, but I held them tight. When Leo pulled me close so that my head was nestled in his neck, I had this comforting sensation that he felt it, too. Then again, it might have just been a healthy dose of wishful thinking.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked me. I gave a little laugh. God, no way would tell him.

“Nothing,” I said. “You. Just wondering when you’re going to get tired of me.”

He kissed my forehead, his arm holding me close. “Never,” he said. I ran my hand over his stomach and ribs and squeezed him tight.

We talked for an hour. Not about anything special, just our lives. Leo told me he about the huge premiere he had coming up, and that he was concerned about critics’ responses to his latest film. I told him about Delaney and her custard empire, which made him laugh when I put it like that. He said, in a lazy way, that she should come to L.A. and open up a shop here. “We’ll fly her out,” he said, and that
we
got me again. I realized I was on the hunt for any little sign that he felt for me like I did for him. There were signs but they were small, and always I had Kait in my ear, convincing me that he said these things to all his girls.

In his bed that night, I pushed thoughts of Kait aside. I made plans with Leo—a new restaurant to try, an overnight trip to Catalina—and only once did I think about the ending. Or how he told me that, when he walks away, he doesn’t look back. We held each other close, and eventually, we fell sleep.

Chapter Fifteen

I stayed up late Sunday night to write my drive-in story. When I finished at three in the morning, I felt really proud of what I’d written. My first piece for
Crush
magazine, and it was a fun, flirty story about an old-fashioned date. Naturally, I left Leo’s name out of it, but I was sure it’d make the magazine’s readers want to try out movie-watching from the front seat of their cars—or the backseat, if the movie was boring.

I emailed it to Pam so she’d have it as soon as she arrived at work on Monday. I certainly didn’t want her having any new ammo on me by turning it in late, or even on time, considering what a bulldog she’d been about being the one to edit it. I was actually excited for her to read and edit it. I felt like I’d learned so much from Leo about writing and creating stories that, even though this was an article and not a story, I’d been able to use his insight to make it better. Plus, I welcomed Pam’s constructive criticism. Everyone said she was a really strong editor, and I wanted to be the best writer I could.

Monday morning I didn’t even make it to my desk before Kait was screaming my name, calling me into her office.

I stepped inside.

“Close the door,” she said, not looking at me. I did as she said, feeling an epic-sized boulder in my stomach.

“I went to the drive-in for my New Girl column this weekend,” I said, because surely that’s what she was pissed about.

“I know you did. And I bet I know who you took on that date,” she said, and slapped a print out on the desk in front of me. I picked it up and saw a dark, grainy photo of two people sitting inside a luxury sedan, parked at a drive-in movie theater.

“Is that you?” Kait asked. “It looks like you, and it’s definitely him, but those are not our clothes.”

Leo Armstrong Spotted With Mystery Woman. Who Is She?!

“Need I remind you that you are undercover?” Kait said. “If the paparazzi find out that you’re a writer with
Crush
magazine then the whole thing is over. Do you get that?”

“Yes,” I stammered, holding the picture in my shaking hands. The picture showed Leo looking me, smiling. It was right before he leaned across and kissed me. I had lost focus on the story and now the whole thing was about to blow up in my face. What if Leo had seen this? Would he think I was just with him for press?

Christ
, I thought. Maybe I did have the two confused.

“I know you’ve been out with him in public, but that was to his places that he knows—and I know how people in this town can bribe anyone from a restaurant manager to the busboy to keep their mouths shut about their celebrity clients,” Kait continued. “But you took him to one of your places—and on assignment for the magazine. I can’t even begin to know what you were thinking. So what are we supposed to do with your drive-in story? Run it with this picture? Jesus, Sophie.” She sat back in her chair, exasperated.

“I’m sorry,” I began, and my voice was trembling. God, if I started crying…

“Your story is scrapped,” Kait said, swiftly, like the drop of the guillotine. “We need to know the impact of this photo. We’ll have to wait a couple of days to see if the press picks up on who you are because I guarantee you, they’re digging right now. You’re lucky you weren’t in your own car. Someone would have run your license plate through the DMV to find out. Not taking your own car is the only thing you did right.”

If she only knew. I couldn’t believe such a great night had turned out to be such a disaster. And what about Leo? My phone was in my bag at my feet and I was itching to check it, see if he’d texted me. I had to make sure he wasn’t mad about the photo—to see if he even knew about it. I also had to make sure I didn’t lose my job.

“I’ll fix it, I promise,” I said to Kait, but she quickly cut me off.

“I’m here to tell you how to fix it,” she said. “Get your phone out and text him right now.”

I didn’t dare tell her that’s exactly what I wanted to do. Except, of course, I would have preferred to do it alone in my cubicle. I hesitated for a moment before reaching down into my bag.

“Text this,” she began. “‘Still thinking about you. Dinner tonight, question mark. Your choice.’ You got that?”

I was sick to my stomach, but I wrote the words. My thumb hovered over Send. Maybe I could go back to my desk and write what I wanted to write. Ask him if he was okay, or maybe write a joke, like,
The name is Nuwanda
. He’d get it. I wouldn’t even have to remind him about Dalton from
Dead Poets Society
saying it.

I realized that Leo Armstrong and I had inside jokes now. That’s how close we’d become. Real close. True close. Not scamming-for-a-story close.

“Sophie,” Kait said, pulling me back. “Send it. Let me see.” She held out her hand like a teacher checking her student’s work. It was humiliating.

I didn’t want to lose my job, and really, the text was harmless. Just a check-in with Leo. So I hit Send and showed my phone to Kait.

“Good,” she said. “I want to know when he writes, where you’re going, and what he says. Understood?”

“Sure,” I said, completely defeated.

“Now go,” she said, and turned away from me.

When I got back to my desk, Pam was just walking away. She turned back when she saw me.

“There you are,” she said. “I was up early so I read your rough draft. I made a few marks and suggestions. Left it on your desk.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, letting the rough draft remark slide by. She knew it was the final version. “I think Kait is actually putting it on hold. For now, anyway.”

A tiny smirk crept up her mouth. “Yeah, I know. But I figured you could still use some help in the writing department. Better luck next time, kid,” she said, and walked away.

On my desk I found bloodied pages. She went old-school with a red pen and everything. She’d crossed out half my lines and the ones she left had things like
Really??
in the margins.

It was total crap. She may as well have taken her red pen and stabbed out my soul.

Next I got a visit from Alexa.

“So,” she said, “I guess you decided to take him to the movies after all, huh?”

Alexa had started to caution me about taking Leo on my New Girl date, but then had pulled back.

“I suppose I should have listened to you,” I said.

“Yeah. It’s so weird how the paparazzi just seem to know where to find the celebrities, isn’t it? Even when they’re at a totally new place.”

She looked so satisfied that I felt like I knew—she had made some phone call and told photographers where we’d be. Alexa had set me up.

I felt like everyone in the office was against me.

It wasn't until almost the end of the day that Leo texted me back.

My apt, 8.

That’s all it said. I had no idea if he knew about the paparazzi photo and if so, if he was mad about it. He couldn't be, right? He was photographed all the time with beautiful women. He couldn't avoid it. As long as he didn’t know who I really was, I was sure I’d be fine.

When I reported the night’s date at his place to Kait she didn’t look pleased or annoyed or anything. All business, out to get Leo Armstrong. I kind of wished she’d yell at me—the quiet fury terrified me.