Love and Language (2 page)

Ben could use the release, but he knew the female grad students and none fit him. The other women connected with the college who came to things were spoken for or failed to spark his interested. He wouldn’t do anything with an undergrad. He was also tired of playing with subs who loved someone else. “Playing is fun, but I know all the usual subs. I’m not up for training a newbie.”

“Not everyone is a newbie. You’ve seen the
Masters Wanted
blog? I think this woman has potential for you.” Nelson turned around his laptop.

Ben read the posting. He didn’t want to be intrigued, but there was genuineness to her words that came through. “Not much detail. She doesn’t sounds like a student though. Do you know her? Why don’t you work for the NSA?”

“Please, I have ethics and was a naughty kid so either my background check or my interview sinks me. I control this blog and I traced her IP address, for the greater good of helping her. We both know her. Look, some Doms like to play the field. You’re barely twenty-seven, but you’re a Bedroom Dom if I’ve ever met one. You want your playmate, and finding the right sub doesn’t always fit into a schedule.” Nelson took back the computer and did more tapping.

“I know you like to play matchmaker, Nelson, but I don’t just want a sub to play with. I need a relationship. Someone I can talk to.” Ben had spent his entire childhood adapting to new people and places. His parents traveled for work. It had helped him pick up tons of languages and learn to navigate in strange places, but he’d always wanted a home and friends.

The stability of college and knowing people year after year kept him in this snowy New England town. He loved his family, but he’d rather travel on vacation and stay put the rest of the year.

Nelson arched an eyebrow at Ben. “Did I just meet you yesterday? I’ve known you since you were a freshman in my class. You’re a relationship guy. I can understand your hesitation to top another Dom’s sub even when they both want a little change. This might be the one for you. You don’t want to know who she is?”

Ben loved that he had friends he’d known for awhile. In this college, he had a community and a home. His apartment lacked a yard with a tire swinging from a tree, but he’d had that same address for longer than any address he’d had while growing up. His parents had given him every advantage, but they’d moved for their careers constantly.

Deep down, Ben feared he couldn’t trust anyone to stick around, but he wouldn’t turn down something that Nelson had obviously put thought and effort into. The more experienced Dom had taught Ben a few things over the years.

“Sure, who is she?” Ben drank until he approached brain freeze.

Nelson grinned and rubbed his hands together like an evil scientist. “Jane Wendell.”

Her image jumped into Ben’s brain, and desire shot much lower. “Jane? The English prof?”

The woman was shy with short, black hair that framed her face and deep-brown eyes. Her curves always got his attention when she passed. Those full breasts and hips begged for discipline, but he’d never believed her to be a submissive.

“The very one. She’s a little older than you, but when I saw her post, I thought of you.” Nelson leaned back with a smug grin on his face.

“Why? I’ve met her, sure. I like her, but asking out a tenured professor? She’ll think I’m nuts. And just a kid. Plus, if it goes bad, she’s got tenure. I’m trying to start my career here.” Ben didn’t believe for a second she’d report him or sink his career. The students loved her, she was a good person, but would she want him?

“Jane isn’t a vindictive bitch.” Nelson shook his head. “She’s smart and a sweetie who needs the right kind of attention. This is a big move for her. I’ve never seen her at any events.”

“So I’m supposed to reply to her post like I don’t know who she really is? Feels underhanded and creepy.” He couldn’t take advantage. He wasn’t that sort of Dom. He loved the sex and the power, but truly, he got off on giving the sub what they needed. Spoiling Jane would be a turn on, but it was only good if it was honest.

“No! This is the best part. I’ve got the perfect way for you to feel her out. She’s going on vacation and needs a tutor.” Nelson showed him a computer screen with the university’s site up.

“Italian and Greek? Really?” Ben had to give Nelson credit. If it worked, it was a brilliant plan.

“You speak both of those languages fluently. You offer to be her tutor. Find a reason to do it at her place and feel her out—without actually touching her at first. Flirt, seduce and let her know you like to play.” Nelson smiled.

Ben shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t know she’s a sub.”

“Some are hard to pick out. I bet she never dreamed either of us are Doms. She’s private so you two should work out there. Unless you don’t like older women.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I prefer a woman who knows what she wants and who she is.” Ben chewed his straw. “Thanks.”

“Go get that tutoring job before someone else does.” Nelson sat back and grabbed a wireless keyboard.

Ben found no flaws in Nelson’s logic. If Jane didn’t want him, he could still tutor her. It’d be something to take his mind off his wait. Ben got up and nodded to Nelson. “I think I will. Talk to you later. Thanks.”

* * * *

Ten minutes later, Ben knocked on Jane’s office door. If he thought about it too much, he’d find a good reason not to make the move. She might not want a younger guy, especially for a Dom. She might think of him as a student. He could change her mind by taking control, but a sub that intrigued and sparked for a Dom always had a little more power over him than any other could.

When she looked up from her desk, desire grabbed hold of him.

“Can I help you, Ben?” she asked.

He walked in. “Actually, I wanted to help you. The tutoring job you posted.”

Her face brightened, and those brown eyes sparkled. “Oh, that’d be great. I’m leaving in July, so there isn’t a ton of time, but I just need the basics.”

“You know nothing about either language?”

“I tried some computer stuff, and I have a phrase app and translator on my phone. I want to enjoy the trip and not be constantly frustrated. I do better with a person.” She blushed.

He wanted to feel her warm skin. Instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets but inched closer to her. “Okay, well most tourist places will have things in English and guides who speak your language. But it’s good to have the basics. I can help there. Italian is much easier because, like a lot of English, it has a Latin root. Greek is trickier.”

She nodded. “Well, I’d like to try. What do you charge?”

“You know, it’s really not about the money. I could use a project to distract me from waiting to defend my dissertation. How about some homemade dinners in exchange for lessons? I’ll come up with some drills to get the basics down quickly, and we’ll see how good of a student you are.” He grinned at her and resisted the urge to look down her crisp, white blouse.

“That’s all? I guess college guys don’t have much home cooking. With the food court around, you don’t need to. I don’t make anything exotic or fancy, but it’s edible.” She shrugged. “Are you really sure that’s all you want?”

“Good conversation along with it. Really, my evenings are filled with waiting for that appointment to defend my work. I just need that PhD, and I’ll be fine. This will give me something else to do.”

Dinners meant they’d meet at her place and in private.

“I remember those days. Don’t worry, you’ll sail through it. Then you can stress about publishing and getting tenure. We won’t talk about that. If you’ll be ready, we can start tonight. Does six work?” She scribbled her address on a piece of paper.

“Six is great.” He slid his fingers over the back of her hand as he took the paper. A spark hit him, and he swore she blushed a little deeper. “See you tonight.”

Chapter Two

Checking the saucy mushroom chicken, Jane couldn’t believe her luck. Food in exchange for tutoring was a steal. Most college kids ate junk, but he wasn’t a kid! She had created a big line between her and the students so she wouldn’t make any missteps. The gray area Ben was in mixed her up. He was in his late twenties at least and had worked hard for his degrees. The man knew six languages fluently so this wouldn’t be much of a challenge for him. He had teaching experience that could help her. She wanted this tutoring. The fact that it was Ben, however, would be distracting! She had to focus on the language lessons and not his firm ass. Ben was everything she wanted. Smart, sexy and here. Okay, maybe he wasn’t
everything
.

She left the chicken in the oven on low as she checked the rice pilaf and green beans. Setting those next to the chicken to keep hot, she tried to fight the impulse to go online to check if her post had any new responses. Ben was due any second, and his attention would be satisfying enough. The attraction couldn’t be ignored, but she refused to get her hopes up. There was no reason to suspect Ben was a Dom, and it didn’t matter how wonderful he was to look at or talk to. If he wasn’t into sexual dominance, he wasn’t the one for her. Ben could be a friend and colleague for years to come. She wouldn’t throw herself at a man and beg to be spanked if he wasn’t into it. Humiliation wasn’t her thing.

That was actually a relief. She could lust after him and know that he simply wasn’t meant for her. A lifetime of working hard for what she wanted had proved to her that she didn’t need to settle for less than what she really desired.

Giving in to her impulse, she opened her laptop and clicked on the link to the
Masters Wanted
blog just for a distraction. Maybe someone had responded, and she could get her hopes up about a stranger. The replies were all asking for more detail. Size, appearance, what she was into, her hard limits and kinky preferences. They all read more like job searches than romantic matches.

None of those Doms were the right one for her. She wanted more than just someone for play. Why did her private life have to be extra complicated? Leaving the computer on, she checked herself in the mirror. It felt silly, but she did it. She hadn’t changed clothes. That would look odd unless she’d changed into something casual. The white blouse and black skirt looked fine. Her cheeks were flushed, and her makeup only touched up.

The doorbell rang. She crossed to the front of the house and opened the door before she got nervous. Ben had gone more casual, wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt with a light jacket over it. A messenger bag crossed his body and showed off his strong chest and that damn nipple ring. Her insides warmed, wanting to see it.

“Hi, come on in.” She stepped back. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Hi, great. I’m starving.” He followed her inside and closed the door behind him.

“I can take your coat,” she offered.

He set his bag on the loveseat then slid off the coat and set it on top. “It’s fine here.”

“Okay.” She gestured to the set table. “Sit, and I’ll grab the food.”

“It smells great.” He sat down and looked quite at home.

As they ate, he told her about the plan for her lessons while she tried not to stare.

“I’ll give you some sections to read over and practice. Then I can drill you in the evenings and see how far you’ve come. Some people learn faster than others. Some need to hear it. So we’ll play.” He grinned.

Her cheeks went hot at his use of the word
play
, and she cleared her throat. After some water, she smiled. “Sounds great. Are you sure the food is a fair trade? I don’t want to steal your time and knowledge for a little home cooking. I’m sure your mom stuffed you over the holidays.”

Ben chuckled and wiped his mouth. “My mom was never much of a cook. She and my dad were—well
are
—workaholics. They’re into international law and human rights campaigns. We’d end up in a country for a year or two and then another. All over Europe and the Americas.”

“That’s how you learned all those languages,” she said.

“Yes. Plus, I can eat just about anything. You have to try different stuff.” He grinned. “But my mom didn’t cook. Some places, we had a housekeeper. In the states, it was takeout or ordering in every night. Everyone was busy. When you change schools all the time, it’s like catch-up even if you’re ahead on the class work.”

“It must’ve been hard to make friends. You’d feel so out of control all the time since you were always in a new environment.” She started thinking of him as a Dom and tried to stop it fast. Something in his presence and the way he stared at her with confidence sent her submissive sensors off. It wasn’t how he looked at her on campus. He stood taller and spoke more firmly. Even if he were a Dom, he’d probably get his PhD, put in a little time teaching, and then move off somewhere exotic. “Do you miss traveling?”

“No!” He sat back. “I like the odd vacation but not routinely traveling. College has been the longest time in my life where I’ve had the same address, the same friends and the same community. Most kids want to see the world, and I just wanted to settle down and have a life.”

“Sounds like a lonely way to grow up.” She sympathized since she’d been a lonely child herself.

“Oh no, I had two older brothers who made it crazy but never lonely. Our parents loved us, but they loved their work, too. Some days were an adventure, but most times, I wanted to be normal.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t trade it, but that’s not what I want now.”

He looked at her intently, and she had to break the gaze, or she’d be under the younger man’s spell. She reached for his plate. “Want more?”

“No, I’m stuffed, thanks. It’s great. Where did you learn to cook?”

“Self taught. I was a poor college kid on scholarships and student loans. It was cheaper to cook than order in or go out.” His childhood sounded so glamorous, with important parents. She didn’t want to talk about herself at all. “I’d offer dessert, but I don’t really have anything handy. Maybe, we should get to the lessons, so I don’t take up your entire evening.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel then tugged the tablecloth off the old wooden table, so they had a clean working surface.