He made a rough sound against her lips, his hips jerking, thrusting his erection firmly into her palm. God, he was big and hard, swelled against those black jeans. Her body tightened down all over again, aching to feel him sliding inside, claiming her as his mouth had just done.
Releasing her mouth, he bent his head and lightly kissed her shoulder. The waiter approached with their ticket, so Conn gently peeled her hand off him, placing a kiss in her palm. She could only sit there, panting quietly, trying not to rub herself all over him. She’d just climaxed in the middle of a busy restaurant. From a kiss. Had anybody noticed? Torn between embarrassment and need, she kept her gaze down.
Her hard nipples were very, very prominent against the thin white of the dress. She crossed her arms, hoping the waiter didn’t get an eyeful. Noticing her discomfort, Conn slipped his leather jacket around her shoulders. The coat was heavy around her, smelling incredibly of leather and him. Wrapped in that coat, she fought not to rub her face against it and see if she could come again.
She was going to burn him to a cinder, but he’d die a very happy man.
Dazed by his “extra credit”, Rae let him take her arm and guide her out of the restaurant.
It wasn’t wine that made her sway and cling to him, dizzy and weak-kneed. Just as it wasn’t wine that made him bend her back against the Mustang beneath his hips while he kissed her again, deep and hard, as deep and hard as he wanted to be inside her.
Conn pulled back despite her clutching hands and moan of desperation. Her body was soft and yielding as she arched into him. So turned on, she’d forgotten about their very public location on the busiest street in Joplin. Not too fast, he reminded himself. He had to give her a taste and back off. Let her think about it. Discuss her fears. He couldn’t barge his way into her body and mind and soul all in one day, no matter how much he wanted her.
Opening the passenger door, he helped her slide into the seat. She was shivering but he’d wager not from the cold. As soon as he sat down in the driver’s seat, she reached for him, half crawling over the console.
“I’m not taking you in my car, darlin’, no matter how much I want you right now. In fact, I’m taking you straight home to Miss Belle’s tonight.”
She moaned, shaking her head. “I want you too badly.”
He backed the car out and pulled into traffic before he drew her against his shoulder.
“I’m not rushing you, Rae.”
“How can you kiss me like that, and then take me home?”
Growling a curse beneath his breath, he shifted in the seat, uncomfortable in his jeans.
“It’s damned hard, darlin’, but I’m looking toward the long haul. Once you come into my bed, you’re not leaving it. Do you understand? I’m not a one night stand. Speaking of which, we need to discuss birth control before we’re hot and heavy and get stupid.”
“I’m on the pill. I always have been.” She shuddered against him. “Thank God I didn’t have kids with Richard. I don’t think I would’ve had the courage to escape him.”
Tightening his jaws, Conn fought the urge to swerve over to the shoulder and give her a punishingly deep kiss of possession again. “I’m going to want kids, darlin’. A whole passel of them.”
Her silence just about killed him. Raising her head, she pressed her mouth to his ear and whispered, “With you, it’s different. I don’t want kids right off, but in a couple of years, absolutely.”
“I’m clean.” His voice sounded thick and tight to his own ears. “I was tested after my last relationship two years ago and I haven’t been with anyone since.”
“The first thing I did after I kicked Richard out was go to the doctor. I’m clean too.” She breathed out slowly, tormenting him with the warmth and heat of her mouth. Her breasts pressed against his arm, and it was all he could do to keep from sliding his hand up beneath that sexy dress. “I don’t need you to use condoms, unless you just want to.”
Breathing hard, he forced his foot to ease off the accelerator before he broke a hundred miles an hour. He laughed raggedly. “I want nothing between us but skin, darlin’, but I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I want you. Preferably right now.”
She surprised and delighted him, a mixture of innocence and seduction, confident one moment and shy and vulnerable the next. “We have to deal with all your fears before I can drag you into such a commitment, darlin’.”
“Miss Belle’s contract had a thirty-day commitment.” She drew back, searching his face.
“We’re not waiting thirty days, are we?”
Conn groaned roughly. “Hell, I hope not. Are you trying to kill me? Thirty days? My brain would shut down from lack of blood by then. I’m not sure I’ll make it the week of Miss Belle’s bet.”
She laughed and settled back against his shoulder, her hand slowly wandering higher up his thigh. “I’d come home with you just so Miss Belle doesn’t win.”
“That might be her exact goal, darlin’. If there’s anything you should know about Miss Belle, she knows everything and she’s always right.” He captured Rae’s hand in his and very firmly tightened the reins on his control. “These next few days are like finals week. You’re going to put me through every test you can imagine, and I’m going to pass every single one for you. Whatever you need me to prove, do, or show, I will. However long it takes. I didn’t wait five years for nothing. I waited for you.”
She turned her face into his shoulder again, shaking. “I’m sorry.”
Damn, he hadn’t meant to imply any anger that she hadn’t waited for him. He didn’t want to punish her with guilt. “Shhh, Rae, I didn’t mean it like that. I dated too. I’ve been far from a monogamous saint these past years—that’s why I had myself tested. Nobody challenges and moves me like you. Nobody threatened to dissolve my control into frantic need on top of my desk like you. You’re worth the wait, however long it takes.” He kissed the top of her head, wry humor in his voice. “Just don’t take too long.”
The return trip passed much too quickly for Rae.
“Before I forget, I have a faculty thing tomorrow night. Actually, I’m getting an award.
Miss Belle is attending, and I’d be honored to have you as my date, darlin’.”
“I’d love to.”
He turned into Beulah Land’s driveway, and she wanted to cry. “You might change your mind when you see how boring the evening will be. A bunch of English professors getting together to talk Shakespeare and Shelley isn’t exactly a blockbuster movie, you know.”
She didn’t care. She’d sit and watch the paint dry, if he was there and asked her.
Burrowing deeper against his chest, she breathed in his scent, soaked in his heat, and cursed herself for being a coward. If she wasn’t afraid, then she could be in his bed tonight and every night.
Pulling over, he turned off the headlights and the engine. “Come here, darlin’.”
She went, crawling into his lap, straddling him in the bucket seat. It was tight in the car, too tight, which saved her. Even knowing it, she cursed the confines.
“Such language,” Conn laughed, his voice husky. “Whatever would Miss Belle say?”
“She’d probably say I deserved a spanking.”
His eyes gleamed in the darkness, his hands sliding up her hips beneath the dress.
“Would she, now? Not in my car, though. There’s not enough room for me to do it justice. I want you spread out on my lap, my hands on this gorgeous ass, and I want to see you, Rae. I want to watch the red spread across your skin. I want plenty of room to stroke you at the same time.”
Her heart pounded so loudly he surely must hear it. She squirmed on his lap. Feeling his erection beneath her only increased the torment.
“I’m going to find out what you’ve got under this dress, and then you’re going up to your room and I’m going home. To take a long cold shower. Where I’ll jerk off with the vision of you held across my lap and…” His fingers found the scrap of a thong she wore beneath the short, white dress. “These tiny panties down around your ankles.”
He stroked the thin strip running between her cheeks. “White?”
She nodded, her face burning, even while she felt the growing moisture between her thighs. “Compromise.”
“Indeed. Did you wear these for Dick?”
She shook her head, her face buried against his neck. “They came free in a pack and I never wore them. Until you.”
“Thank God. I don’t know which would bother me the most: knowing Miss Belle bought them for you to wear for me, or that Dick had seen you in them. Tell you what. How about I deliver a little package for you tomorrow?”
Laughing shakily, Rae nodded. Had Miss Belle bought sexy negligees or panties for her?
She hadn’t had time earlier to check all the bags. The crazy old lady would try her best to get her in them. Probably pink. Shuddering, she wiggled closer to him, her breath catching in her throat at the bulge in his jeans. His breath was hot on her neck, his fingers stroking and kneading her bared cheeks. She pressed her mouth to his ear, sucking on the lobe, and squirmed closer. Maybe the car wasn’t so small…
Somebody tapped on the window. Pulse slamming in her throat, she jerked upright. His hands were still beneath her dress; she was in his lap; the windows were so fogged up she couldn’t even see who was there.
Sick with dread, she thought she knew exactly who was there.
Muttering beneath his breath, Conn turned the key so he could lower the window.
“How’d you know we were here?”
Miss Belle humphed. “Do you think I wasn’t young and in love once, Verrill? Your mama was conceived right here in Colonel Healy’s Model T.” She jerked the door open and Rae half tumbled out. Miss Belle yanked her the rest of the way. “Come along, Rae Lynn, it’s time for bed, your bed, all alone. Good night, Verrill.”
“Good night. Grandma.”
Dear Dr. Connagher:
I keep dreaming the same thing, over and over, and I don’t need Freud to distill its
meaning for me.
In the dream, I’m dressed in that white mini-skirt you hated and nothing else, gripping
your poetry anthology tightly across my chest, not to hide my nakedness, but to gain passage
from the fierce-eyed dragon guarding your door. (I was always a little afraid of the dean’s
secretary.)
However, your door is closed. Defeated, I lean against the wood and close my eyes. I
know you’re inside, but the closed door means no interruptions. I know better than to knock.
I don’t make a sound, but you know I’m there.
“Come in, Miss Jackson.”
Shivering with trepidation and longing, I open the door barely wide enough to slip inside
your office. The blinds are shut in the window behind your desk, casting your face in shadow.
Gathering my nerve, I shut the door behind me. The sound of the lock clicking into place is
shockingly loud.
I’m braced for you to tell me to leave or to order me to the dean’s office for interrupting,
but you remain silent. It’s a test: You wait in that silence for my answer. As always, I feel this
burning panic to blurt out the first thing that comes to my head, but this time, I know.
I know exactly how to ace this examination and I don’t need a blue book for my answer.
Giddy with confidence, I saunter over and set my book on top of your desk. The top is
bare of clutter, shining and polished even in the gloom. Staring at that desk, I feel remembered
fire spreading across my ass. I remember how cold the wood felt when you pressed me across
it. But I’m not here for that this time. This time, I want something more.
Or rather, you want something more.
Even when I fumble your belt open and unzip your jeans, you remain silent. You’re hot
steel in my hand, too thick for my fingers to meet, and even writing this now, I feel… It’s
embarrassing, what you do to me. I’ve never enjoyed oral sex much in real life, but in this
dream…with you…I hunger. I want you in my mouth, sliding down my throat deep enough to
choke me. I tremble and ache with need, my lips wet with saliva, yet I can’t do it. Somehow, it’s
not right for me to simply lean down and take what I want.
Heat floods my face and it’s not desire this time. Fear claws at my throat; tears burn in
my eyes. I suddenly feel as panicked as if I’d walked into your class and learned you were
giving an exam and I’d totally forgotten to study. All the confidence I’d felt earlier disappears
and I want to wail, run from your office, and never see you again.
Then your hand settles on my head, heavy, your fingers tightening in my hair. It’s a
subtle pain, just the faintest tug on my scalp, yet my anxiety simply melts away. Surety fills me
again. You jerk me closer and I smell your scent of spiced leather, and deeper, musk and man,
and I’m smiling when you fist your other hand in my hair, too.
The rest of the dream…well, you can imagine. It’s not very politically correct. I should
feel…degraded. Shouldn’t I be mad at you, even though it’s just a dream?
But it’s my dream, so shouldn’t I be mad at myself? How can I, when I wake up in tears
because I know it was just a dream? Every morning I lose you all over again.
During the day, I’ll be talking with a contractor or touching up some paint, and I’ll
remember. I’ll remember what it felt like to be on my knees in your office with your hands
fisted in my hair, demanding pleasure, taking what you want…
It’s only a dream, but the memory is enough to make me come again.
~ Rae
Walking into a faculty award ceremony on Conn’s arm was surreal. The tree-lined, old-world atmosphere of Drury campus welcomed Rae back. The tightening in her throat surprised her. She’d love to come back here and finish her degree. Someday.