Actually, it might. Men have a habit of ripping me to shreds. "Goodbye, Felicity."
I drive home and make dinner to distract myself. After I've eaten and washed the dishes, I search for another way to keep from thinking about Nick. About his body, his eyes, his lips. They'd felt so good and tasted even better.
So much for TV as a distraction. Reading a magazine doesn't help either. I try crossword puzzles and sudoku, but that also doesn't work. I can't contemplate lesson plans because I finished all of those earlier today. Giving myself a manicure and a pedicure takes all of ten minutes, and vacuuming doesn't eat up enough time either. What else can I do?
Well, I could use a shower. I usually do that in the morning, but I forgot today. Why? Because ofthatman. I'd been so distracted by thoughts of him that I almost forgot to eat breakfast too.
Nick Hunter. His eyes, his body, his mouth, his voice. I'd loved the feel of his tongue sliding over mine and the scent of his aftershave.
I have two options here. One, I race over to his place and ride him like a bucking bull. Or two, I take care of my lust the sensible way. If there's such a thing as being sensible when I'm consumed with lust for that infernal man. Infernally hot, that is.
Okay, I'm going with the pseudo-sensible option.
That means I go in the bathroom, strip off my clothes, and get into the shower with my vibrator in my hand. It's waterproof, naturally. So yes, I've done this before—but never have I needed to do it as much as I do tonight. Strictly to aid my self-administered sexual experience, I let my mind treat me to fantasies of Nick Hunter. What does he look like naked? I imagine him having plenty of muscles and strong thighs. His cock is big and thick, of course, but it fits snugly inside me when he starts thrusting.
I switch the vibrator on and do to myself what I'm imagining him doing to me. The vibrator isn't as big as I imagine, or maybe hope, Nick's cock will be. But it gets the job done. I thrust it in and out, slapping my free hand on the tile wall while I gasp and mumble the name of a certain Brit who's driving me insane with lust. I come so quickly and so hard that I almost fall down. The shout that bursts out of me couldn't have been heard by any of my neighbors. Could it?
But I don't feel much relief from what I just did.
So I finish my shower, getting clean instead of dirty, and hurry to my bedroom to try again to vanquish my lust for Nick Hunter. I do it again and again and again, then I give up on ever curing myself of this hunger.
There's only one way to get rid of it, but I will never have sex with Nick.
Not this weekend, anyway.
Chapter Five
Nick
I arrive on campus at a quarter to eight Monday morning so I won't be late for my first class. That's the one Siobhan is teaching, business analytics. I talked to my mate Grey Dixon on the phone over the weekend, and he gave me some pointers because he knows all about that technical malarkey. It seems like gibberish to me, but I have set myself the goal of learning new things, and this class is a good place to start.
Since my teacher liked my suit the other day, I've put on another one this morning. This suit is dark blue, which I've been told brings out my eyes. The American wives of my mates, who have joined a club started by the American wives of our Scots mates, declared I have "the dreamiest blue eyes on earth." They gave me a certificate that says so.
When I walk into the classroom ten minutes early, only one person is there. It's Siobhan, of course. She's flipping through a stack of papers while standing behind the desk that sits at the front of the room. The desk comes up to her waist height, so all I can see is her upper body. That's enough. My dick jerks when I take in the vision of that sexy woman dressed in a blouse that clings to her figure and accentuates her breasts.
I need to fuck her. Right now.
But I won't do that. Starting my reborn academic career by sexually harassing a professor seems like a bad idea. I've got enough gossip about me making the rounds, and I don't need more trouble.
Siobhan closes her eyes and rolls her neck like she's working out stiffness, then she clasps her hands behind her and leans backward. The movement pushes her breasts up and out.
Maybe I should quit school. That woman's body is going to make me do things I should not be doing, things like hiking up her skirt and taking her on that desk.
I cough into my fist, not entirely to get her attention. "Good morning, Dr. Griffin."
She jumps. "Oh, I didn't see you there. Good morning, Mr. Hunter."
"Is there any chance I could convince you to call me Nick?"
"Probably not."
That wasn't a firm no, was it? Probably not, she said.
"Take a seat," she tells me, gesturing toward the rows of desks. "Class will start soon. Do you have your textbook?"
I hold up the computer bag I've been carrying over my shoulder. "It's on my laptop. The bloke in the bookstore told me almost no one uses physical books anymore."
"That's true." She goes back to flipping through those papers.