A stupid question. I know why it matters.
“I need to go,” I say, then hurry toward the door. My fingers reach the knob and pull, just as a sudden force slams it shut again.
There’s no need to look at what is holding me here, what’s kept me from my hasty retreat. The heat of his body strokes my back, and all at once my skin prickles at the thought of his touch. His hand, just above my head, holds the door in place. I should feel trapped, frightened. Something other than the surge of longing pulsing through every part of my body.
“Aly, wait.” His whisper flutters across my hair. A cold shiver weaves its way down my spine, tantalizing my fevered flesh with promises of intimate caresses and mistakes I can never take back. Mistakes I could not possibly mean to make with this man.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “That didn’t play out the way I had intended. It’s just something I do to make sure my students are serious about what they’re researching and ready to defend it at all costs. But I should have realized, with our interactions in the past, it wasn’t the best plan of action.”
My pulse leaps into my throat, strangling me. He should have realized this wouldn’t work? Because he still thinks I see him as some rich pretender who cares nothing for the less fortunate? Or because he knows seeing him act like that again is the closest to breaking my heart he can get?
There you go again, Aly. Being dramatic. There’s no way this man has your heart yet.
I had just grown accustomed to the idea of wanting him, of potentially being wanted by him in return. Only to have that fantasy ripped from my mind with one brief revelation. It would have been easier to think he was an arrogant jerk.
“Hey.” His hand gently closes around my forearm and turns me to face him.
The swirling haze encircling my throat rises to my cheeks at the sight of him. The coldness in his stone eyes flees behind a gaze that reminds me of sunshine streaming through a canopy of trees. He searches my face, the dimple in his worried brow the only indication of his concern.
“It’s alright,” I say, trying to soothe my own emotions as well as his. “Professor Hawthorne, I think-”
“Please, don’t call me that.” He winces.
A moment of silence passes between us. He clears his throat and casts his eyes briefly to the floor. “I mean, it’s not necessary. You can use my first name. Plenty of students refer to their professors that way, and we will be spending a lot of time together.”
“I don’t call any of my professors by their first name.”
“Yes, but…” He hesitates, seemingly distracted by a wisp of hair falling around my face. He gently brushes it aside, his fingertips lingering at my temple. “We knew each other before. So...it’s different.”
I tremble as his fingertips slide down my cheek, feathering along my jawline until they reach my lips. The lump in my throat tightens. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to wrap my arms around him and demand he sex me up right here. “Is it?”
I barely recognize my own voice. My breaths escape in small bursts of air. I’m practically panting at this point.
“Say it, Aly,” he whispers.
His thumb grazes my lower lip. My mouth parts beneath his touch, willing and ready despite the warning bells going off in my mind. “Say my name.”
“Zach.” His name spills from my mouth in a plea, but he knows exactly what I want.
His lips press against mine, and instantly my legs buckle beneath me. This is nothing like my dreams, nothing like anything I could have ever imagined. I reach for his shirt, gripping fistfuls of it between my palms just to keep myself from crumbling. One arm curls around my waist, holding my body tight against his. The frantic thudding of his heart beats into my breast. I want to taste him, to feel him.
His tongue glides past the entrance of my lips, searching, hungry. I meet his playful strokes with my own ravenous desires. Each thrust sends a shudder of delirium between my thighs. I want him there, touching me, kissing me. Inside me.
A moan escapes my throat, prompted by my wicked thoughts. His hands glide down my hips and pin me back against the door. The hard length of his arousal presses into my lower abdomen. He’s so close to the place I need him, it’s almost painful.
I raise myself up onto my toes, shifting until the thrumming core between my legs meets the bulge in his jeans.
Another gasp tears from my lips.
This man will be the death of you,I warn myself.
But what a way to go.
Chapter Nine
Zach
This woman is playing with fire, and I am damn near ready to let her.