To Professor, With Love (15 page)

Aspen sputtered, her face coloring as she blinked at him. “You know...you know who I am?”

“My girlfriend and I take World Masterpieces,” he explained. Then he shrugged and gave her a bashful smile. “You’re actually her favorite teacher.”

She paled, but nodded and tried to smile back as she handed him a twenty to pay.

Lowe turned toward the cash register and sent me a glance as he did. But his gaze was unreadable, and I felt abandoned as he turned away.

Though Aspen stood just on the other side of the bar, she was suddenly unreachable.

We didn’t speak as we waited for Lowe to return with her change. And we didn’t look at each other. I watched her from the corner of my eye as she hugged her purse to her breasts. I folded my arms over my chest, frustrated because I could do nothing to fix this.

Lowe returned too soon. Now Aspen would leave. My mind whirled to come up with the perfection solution to fix this, but I had nothing.

After stuffing a ten in the tip jar, she spun away and hurried off. Without even saying goodbye.

I clenched my teeth and glared at Lowe.

He blew out a long breath. “Well... That sure sucked for you.”

With a harsh laugh, I shook my head. “Yeah.” Damn it. I still wanted to hit something. “I need a drink.” Yanking up the first bottle of bourbon I found, I flipped over a glass and splashed in a liberal amount. After downing it in one swallow, I hissed out a breath through my teeth, only to discover Jessie had actually come out of her office. She narrowed her eyes. I narrowed mine right back and watched her with a challenging arch of my brows as I poured myself another.

She pointed her index finger threateningly. “You’re paying for those, Gamble.”

After she turned and started for the exit to leave for the night, I glared after her. “No, I’m not.” Then I drank the next shot.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Dreams come true. Without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them. ” - John Updike

~ASPEN~

My cozy, two-bedroom, bungalow-style home sat in the middle of a street with trees in the front yards and kids’ toys in the back. Middle class’s version of the American dream. This was the first place I’d lived on my own, the first place I’d lived away from my parents.

I’d gained my freedom here. Within the first few weeks of moving in, I’d gone a little wild. Well, my version of wild, anyway. I’d painted my walls crazy colors like tangerine and robin’s egg blue. I bought towels and silverware that totally mismatched
because
they mismatched. I even went out and bought a bottle of wine to celebrate.

If only my parents had seen me then...

But that’s exactly why I’d done it, because I knew they’d disapprove. Well, that and because I’d loved those colors and I loved my mismatching menagerie of things, plus I really had wanted to do something commemorative to celebrate.

It was a small rebellion, but big enough in my book. Finally living for myself now¸ I cherished every little independent thing I got to do.

So, reading in the bathtub? Oh, you know I did that every chance I got. In the four months I’d resided in Ellamore, it had become my Saturday morning ritual. Besides, I really needed something this morning to get my spirits up. I’d felt depressed since Tuesday when I’d left Forbidden—and Noel—for good.

All my lavender-scented aromatherapy votive candles were set up around the rim of the tub and lit, casting a lazy splash of warmth across the walls of my bath, while mist from the heated water steamed up my mirrors and caused my pores to bead with perspiration. My feet rested by the drain while I propped my back against the other end, and the towel turban I’d used to wrap my wet hair also seconded as a nice cushion for the back of my head.

I’d kicked most of the bubbles to my feet because they’d been messing with my paperback—
bad
bubbles—but now that I was nearing a fairly intense and wildly physical part of the story, I was suddenly very aware of my breast floating just below the surface of the water. I slid my thighs past each other and shifted, wet warmth lapping my body as the hero’s tongue lapped over the heroine’s skin. Growing even more restless, I turned a page, anxious to find out what he was going to do to her next, because I had to say, the man was inventive with some of the things he liked to lick.

It reminded me of Noel Gamble’s tongue and how he’d glided it across my collarbone before he’d nipped at a freckle with his teeth. Swallowing when my nipples began to tingle, I shifted my legs again, rubbing them together to alleviate some of tension growing between them. But that only aggravated the situation more. In the novel, the hero’s hand wandered down a taut stomach and then between soft thighs, and I had to tighten my own together in response.

“You’re mine now, Isabelle,” he growled in her ear, his voice rough but his fingers tender.

Damn, why couldn’t some guy say cheesy crap like that to me?

But then an echo of Noel’s voice stirred my memory. “
Want to hear a secret? I had a crazy-ass crush on you on the first day of class
.”

A whimper left my lips and I slapped my book closed. The big m-word filled my head.

To help me recover from the trauma of my first sexual encounter, my therapist had suggested self-pleasure so I could learn that sex could also feel good, not just painful, scary, and debilitating. I’d been fifteen and utterly mortified by the entire conversation. Took me three months to look her in the eye again after that and then another three years to even consider the idea.

The few times I’d tried to get off by myself had been awkward and embarrassing. It hadn’t warmed me to the idea of sex in the least. The only thing that had worked had been time and romance novels. But right now, I wouldn’t be going at it cold turkey as I had before. My body was already receptive to the idea. Setting my paperback aside, I decided one more attempt couldn’t hurt anything. So I closed my lashes, and a face with blue eyes and dark windswept hair filled my head.

I’d only seen him once in class since I’d left the bar on Tuesday. And our gazes had clashed twice during that hour. Each time, we’d both glanced away as if even a single stare was too much temptation. It broke my heart not to even be able to look at him because Noel Gamble was art, like God’s apology for all the regular men in the world.

As my fingers found a sweet spot, I moaned and arched my back, upsetting the water along with every nerve ending in my body. While in my mind, I saw him, cheek pressed against my pillow as he lay beside me, whispering about the way I’d affected him the first time he’d seen me.

I came on a gasp, accidentally splashing water out of the side of the tub and snubbing out all the candles as well as drenching my poor book. But it was worth it. Oh my, was it worth it. Okay, nothing was worth damaging a hallowed book, even though at the moment, I was like, “I’ll jus’ buy another one.”

But, seriously. My first orgasm. It felt nice. Amazing. I’d never relaxed enough to allow the two guys who hadn’t forced themselves on me to ring my bell, and I’d always stopped prematurely when trying on myself. But with a little Noel Gamble stimulation and the drenched paperback beside me, life was good.

I should celebrate. With ice cream. Maybe some chocolate. And wine. Ooh, yes. Wine sounded good right now.

Energized instead of relaxed as my lavender candles should’ve made me, I pulled out the drain’s plug with my toes and stood up. Water streamed off me, making me feel raw and sensual. Sexy.

Mmm, I wondered if a good orgasm always made a girl feel beautiful.

Humming to myself, I shook my head to loosen the towel wrapped around my hair, and I used it to dry myself. And for once, I didn’t think of how much I needed to tighten my abdomen, or do something about the jiggle in my thighs. All self-critical thoughts I usually had when I was naked were blissfully silent.

Damn, why the hell had I waited so long to do this?

I laughed aloud. “Thank you, Noel Gamble.”

In answer, the muted sound of my doorbell peeled through the closed partition of my private bath.

“Crap!” I dropped my towel and dove for my clothes, wondering who the heck was at my door. I
had
ordered some new shoes online, but I swear the tracking information had said they wouldn’t arrive until Monday. But it was the right time for my mail to be delivered. And it wasn’t like I had any casual friends who’d drop by unannounced. Could be a door-to-door salesman or Jehovah’s Witness, but I figured it was probably the postal guy.

Not expecting to receive anyone who would be staying long, I bypassed my bra and tugged on my cotton panties before jerking on the cutoff blue jean shorts and a striped peach and cream long-sleeve I had sitting at the top of my laundry hamper. With my feet bare and hair still wet and uncombed, I flung open the bathroom door and hurried through the house.

I didn’t even think to check the window before receiving my visitor. I just unlocked all the bolts and pulled the entrance open, expecting a deliveryman’s greeting smile. When I saw Noel instead, I yelped out a startled gasp and jumped back, covering my braless chest with both hands.

The afterglow of my orgasm which I’m sure was still staining my cheeks fled to be replaced by horrified embarrassment. But, oh my God, had touching myself while thinking of him somehow drawn him to my house? What the hell kind of voodoo shit had been in those candles? I needed to buy more.

“I...” he started, opening his mouth wide as if ready to deliver some big long explanation of why he was here. But then his gaze shifted down and he left his mouth hanging open. No words came. The appreciation in his gaze as they traveled down my bare legs and back up stirred every organ in my body.

Now that my body knew how liberating and amazing release was, it was ready to experience another. And this time, forget the memory, I’d take the real deal: one Noel Gamble hand-delivered to my front door.

Which was totally, insanely wrong.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I exploded, pulling my arms tighter around myself because my nipples didn’t seem to care that the man in front of me could doom my entire career. Tight and pouted into hard points, all they wanted was to dive into Big O, Number Two. The selfish bitches.

“I...” he tried again, not getting much further this time because his gaze froze on my arms, where the skin had started to prickle into goose bumps. “Oh, fuck me sideways. You’re not wearing a bra, are you?” He glanced over my face before paling. “And you just got out of the shower, too.”

Keeping my girls securely covered with one arm, I released the other so I could push wet hair out of my face. “Bubble bath,” I corrected.

He whimpered, literally whimpered. Lifting one hand as if to command me to speak no more, he turned to the side so he wasn’t directly facing me and then covered his mouth with a fisted hand. “Jesus, you’re evil. Now I’m picturing you naked, covered in bubbles and surrounded by all these candles and shit while you’re reading a book.”

Damn, he was good.

“Don’t forget how incredibly wet I was,” I said because, hell, I always said stuff I knew I shouldn’t to this man. Why stop now?

He sliced me an incredulous glance. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

Backing away, he sank into the wicker chair on my front porch, exactly where I sat on Sunday mornings and drank my cappuccino while I read. It usually swallowed me whole. But holding Noel’s large frame, it seemed small and ridiculously girly. Making him look even more masculine than usual.

“What the fuck am I doing here?” he muttered to himself as he buried his face in his hands.

I swallowed, feeling slutty and evil for what I’d just said and torturing him more than I should have. But he was the one who’d come to me;
he’d
started this.

As much as I wanted to rail at him for stirring up the hornet’s nest of our chemistry, I couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d been driving over to see me while I’d been getting off to a picture of him in my head. The person I’d been craving had actually been wanting me back. He still wanted me now. It was thrilling and heartbreaking and so beautiful to know; I slid down in the opened doorway to sit and pulled my legs up to my chest, hugging my knees as I watched him struggle through whatever battle was going on inside him.

He lifted his face to look at me, and seemed to crumble. “God, you are so...” He shook his head.

A warm glow flushed my skin. No one had acted so enthralled by me before. It sucked that the first person to show a spark had to be forbidden, but I loved the sensation it had on my ego, regardless.

He watched me for a second before shaking his head and saying, “Spend the day with me.”

I wanted to grin and sigh even as my shoulders fell. “Noel, we discussed this on Tuesday.”

“No, actually, we didn’t discuss anything. You just left and—” When I opened my mouth to argue, he held up his hand, “I totally understand why. But something’s happened since then.”

“Okay.” I nodded, hoping it was a miracle that had happened and Ellamore had changed their school policy to allow student-teacher relationships. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Frowning after a long gap of silence, I opened my mouth to ask if he was okay, when he said, “I just got out of weight training...like, I came here straight from there.”

“O...kay,” I said slowly. He didn’t look as if he’d come straight from training. The other day, he’d been wearing his sweatpants and had wet hair. Today, he was rocking dark brown pants and a black and gray-striped shirt with long sleeves, which molded to the contours of his chest and made him look too yummy to be sitting on my front porch.

He blew out a loud breath.

“Coach corralled all of us together and had a little talk.” By the ominous tone of his voice, I knew I wasn’t going to like what his coach had had to say. “After the big scandal on the volleyball team and how much media attention it caught, he decided to make a new rule that if any guy on the team was caught with any staff or faculty member on campus in any inappropriate way, we’d immediately be kicked out of the football program. And since I have a football scholarship...”

“You’d lose your funding and have to leave Ellamore entirely,” I finished for him.

“Right,” he said with the faintest tremor in his voice.

I closed my eyes. “Well, I assure you that I’m not going to go to your coach and tell him—”

“I know that,” he muttered, clearly irritated. “That’s not why I’m here.”

Flickering my lashes open, I frowned at him, confused. “Then why did you come here?”

“Because...because I wanted to see you,” he rushed the words as if saying them fast would give him the courage to mean them.

I blurted out a startled, nervous, confused laugh. “I’m sorry but...you just told me the risk for us has just
doubled
. This would affect both of our lives now, Noel, not to mention what it’d do to your brothers and sister, who are
counting
on you.”

“I know.” He groaned and gnashed his teeth. “You just had to mention them, didn’t you?”

“Well, someone has to. And since I’m the one in the position of authority, I should be the one to take responsibility and say no. We’ve already gone too far. It stops here.”

“No. Just listen to me. Please.” The desperation in his voice tore me up. I hated knowing I was causing him misery. “I let you go on Tuesday because you were the only one who’d pay the consequences if anything happened. I didn’t like that. But now...now, we’d both be putting in the same risk. I have just as much to lose as you do. So...we have equal footing.”

With a high-strung laugh, I shook my head. “You’re not making any sense. How could you even suggest...I mean, after you just completely spelled out the consequences for both of us?”

“Because I
do
know the consequences. I know exactly what would happen if we started something and were caught. But now...now I want to know the consequences if we
didn’t
do anything.”