Kept by the Professor Page 2

  “You better go run home,” he says.

  Run home? What does he think? That I’m five? “Am I being dismissed?”

  He scrubs a hand down his face. “You are.”

  “Fine.” I straighten and try to recover a little dignity. “I’ll just come back later.”

  “I’m a little busy today,” he says. “But thanks for the cookies.”

  He thinks I’m coming back to see him? He must think I’m hitting on him. He is, after all, good-looking, so he probably assumes I’m hitting on him. Now I’m worried that I might have been checking him out a little too much. Was I obvious? I cringe inside.

  As I step out the back door, I look over my shoulder and take one last look. My gaze is drawn by some magnetic force. I can’t help myself. I blame the tool belt. And I’m busted. He’s totally watching me with a smirk on his handsome face. When I narrow my eyes, he winks because he knows that I know that I’ve been caught eyeing him.

  Please. Talk about an ego.

  I’m not sticking around to be toyed with and brushed off by this guy. I’ve got things to do. Dachshunds to walk. Halfway back to my place, I’m kicking myself for not snatching the cookies back.

  Chapter Two

  Ryker

  I lie awake at 2:00 a.m. Pissed off. My new house is next door to party central.

  Cute Neighbor Girl left at one in the morning, driving a Mini Cooper, and returned fifteen minutes later, carrying something wrapped in a what might have been a blanket. Maybe a sweater. She went inside and turned on every single light, including a flood light that lit up my bedroom like an NFL stadium.

  A drop of sweat rolls past my hairline. I’m hot and very bothered, not just because I’m awake when I should be sleeping, but because of her, Cute Neighbor Girl. Lilly, 3-L Lilly, is the perfect mix of innocence and sass. I groan, trying to push away the lust that’s burning through my body. She’s a sexy little thing. Lush curves, a pert ass I’d like to grab and pinch and spank a few times. I’d punish her for waking me up and then for some other wrongdoing. I’d find an excuse.

  She likes flowers and poetry. I could give her both. Not my style, but I’d make an exception for a beauty like Lilly, especially if I could take her to bed and worship those gorgeous curves.

  I grit my teeth because I know there’s no way in hell I will touch her. I can’t. She’s probably twenty-two, twelve years younger than me. Way too young.

  I need to thank my uncle for talking me into taking this job. He’s friends with the dean here at Grenville. From what I hear, a prof was having trouble with his booze and was becoming an embarrassment to the school. They asked me to sub for him, to teach the last two weeks of a couple courses. No big deal. I was coming to Grenville anyway in a few weeks to work a one-month gig with their IT department, some intrusion testing, vulnerability scanning, ethical hacking, shit like that. A couple weeks to tell them how bad their defenses are, and a couple more to help them make it better.

  I should be in Key West right now. That was the plan. I’d just finished a military contract and was thinking about a vacation near Mile Zero, eating seafood, napping in a hammock, but then my uncle called and asked if I could come early. He didn’t tell me I’d get my retinas scorched by the Cute Neighbor Girl’s floodlights in the middle of the night.

  I’ve got four more hours of possible sleep time tonight. I’m getting up early so I can find my classroom and prepare two lessons. If I don’t get decent sleep, my lectures won’t make any sense, especially after riding my motorcycle for three days on rough trail, getting beat up pretty bad. I’d planned to work on lecture notes when I got here, but the house needed work, a lot of work. It was supposed to be turnkey. Like hell it’s turnkey. The plumbing hasn’t been updated since the fifties. I spent the afternoon fixing leaky pipes. I’m sore and pissed off, but despite all that I’m lusting after the CNG. I growl, thinking about Lilly, wondering if I might bump into her on campus. When I get to my office, I might look up her records, do a little cyber-stalking. Nothing too sinister, just a little intel gathering.

  I lie in bed, trying to ignore my hard-on and aching balls. But a moment later, a Jeep flies down the driveway. Another girl gets out and races inside. By now I’m wide awake, wondering if Lilly’s bleeding or hurt. Does she have some sort of emergency? Or it might be a common thing, people coming and going at all hours. Five minutes later, the Jeep girl zooms away. Maybe that’s the end of the ruckus, but no. The lights blaze for another half-hour until I decide I’ve had enough.

  I dress in a pair of jeans and boots, pull on a t-shirt and stalk across the yard. When I bang on the door, I hear her voice inside. Her footsteps draw closer and it sounds like she’s asking what’s wrong.

  Plenty’s wrong.

  I have a list I intend to give her. Let’s see her give me a snooty look about that.

  “What’s the matter?” She yanks the door open and gapes. “You? You’re still here?”

  I ignore her question because my brain shuts down. All gray matter stops working when I see what she’s wearing. A sweet little silken nightie, the neckline dipping between lush, full breasts. The material is whisper thin. She wears some excuse for a robe over the nightie. It’s not an actual robe in that it would keep her warm. It’s flimsy, trimmed in lace and made of some sheer fabric that makes my fingers twitch with a primal need to feel the fabric and to know if it’s as delicate as it looks.

  Anger surges through my gut. My gaze drifts over the soft, enticing curves of her breasts. I can make out the outline of her nipples. I’d like to lean down and press my mouth to the thin fabric. I’d suck her nipple through the silk. Maybe bite her a little to punish her for coming to the door wearing something so fucking sexy. My fingers twitch. My cock hardens even more. A mixture of hunger and desperate need twists inside me. Anger lurks along the edges. It’s bad enough that I get woken up in the middle of the night, but it’s a thousand times worse to find that Princess Mini Cooper answers the door at all hours, half-dressed.

  My voice is a low snarl. “You always come to the door in a nightie?”

  She’s not wearing her glasses and her hair hangs in a single braid. A slow blush of pink blooms across her face. She narrows her eyes. Her response makes my blood heat. I try to keep my gaze from drifting over her silken robe and resist looking at the lacy hem that skims her thighs. It doesn’t help that she’s blatantly gazing at my shoulders and then down to my chest. Her gaze unleashes another slow burn of lust.

  She’s a student, I remind myself. Off-limits.

  “Do you?” I demand.

  “Hm?” Her eyes snap up to meet mine.

  “Do you always answer the door in a nightie?”

  She steps back a few paces, shielding herself with the door. “Not usually. I was expecting someone else.”

  “Really?” I curl my hand into a fist. Is she expecting some young, inexperienced college bro? I don’t have any right to be jealous, but the thought of some drunk idiot kid pawing all over her enrages me. “Who were you expecting?”

  Her eyes widen and she retreats another step. “My friend, Gemma. She was just here. I thought she forgot something.”

  The notion that she’s waiting for a girl and not a guy cools my jealous response. “You still shouldn’t answer the door like that. What if I was some kind of thug?”

  Her gaze drops to my shoulders. “Are you?”

  “Maybe. Maybe I’m a tired, irritated thug. I’d appreciate it if you’d turn off the flood lights. And tell your friends not to show up at all hours.”

  “You’re a pretty darned bossy, handyman.”

  I don’t even know what this one’s talking about. Handyman? Is this some new slang I’ve missed? A new hashtag? Maybe she and Gemma were drinking. She’s about to give me more sass when a small whimper comes from the other room.

  “What was that?” I demand.

  A smile curves her lips as she looks to her left and to her right as if she thinks someone has snuck up on us in her backyard.
I’m the only one around, obviously, but she acts like she’s about to share a state secret.

  “You promise,” she whispers, “not to tell your boss?”

  “I’m my own boss.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Okay, whatever. It’s a puppy. One of my dog-walking clients got a new puppy. Her husband’s furious with her. They’re having marriage problems and he’s trying to get back at her for asking him to move out. He’s threatened to take it to the pound. I offered to take him until the husband has cleared out, but I’m not supposed to have a dog.”

  Her voice is a softer tone and there’s a sweet look on her face. I can’t tear my eyes from hers. I’m tempted to brush a lock of hair back. The girl had high-maintenance written all over her, but I can’t get enough of the way her eyes light up when she talks about the pup.

  “Show me the dog.”

  She bites her lip, wondering if it’s a bad idea to invite me inside. It is, but I’m guessing she’s probably not going to start acting sensibly now.

  “Show me, or I won’t keep your secret.”

  Even though it is 2:00 fucking a.m., suddenly I don’t want to say good night. It’s her fault for waking me up and flouncing to the door in a silken, barely there nightie.

  “Maybe I should make sure you’ll be a gentleman.”

  “How are you going to do that?” My voice is rough from the need to lean down and claim her mouth with a hard kiss.

  “Maybe I’ll insist that you pinky swear.”

  Pinky swear makes me think of a lot of possibilities, and not one is gentlemanly.

  She holds up her baby finger and waggles it, a playful spark dancing in her eye.

  “I swear I’ll be a gentleman, Lilly.” I wrap my finger around hers. “If you swear you won’t ever come to the door dressed in next to nothing.”

  “I swear.” She answers with a pouty expression and tries to tug free. I hold on to her finger a few seconds as she struggles to pull away, just to prove a point – that I can. When I let go, she steps aside and holds the door open for me.

  I step into the kitchen. The house is the same age as my house but it’s been updated. The appliances are new and shiny. The cabinets aren’t sagging. Along the top is a line of cake stands, a collection of what looks like vintage pieces.

  “You got a thing for cake?” I ask.

  She blushes. “I have a thing for baking. Those cake stands belonged to my mom’s grandmother. She owned a bakery and was kind of famous for her cakes and pies and, well, pretty much anything she made was great. I never met her but I heard stories.”

  I nod, recalling the cookies, and my stomach rumbles. She doesn’t notice. Instead she keeps her gaze fixed on the antique stands.

  “They’re pretty,” I tell her. “I bet they look even better with a cake on them.”

  She smiles. “Thank you. Mom wanted to throw them away, but I wouldn’t let her.”

  I love how her eyes light over such a simple thing. Her expression softens and she’s even more beautiful. I’m not even thinking about the frilly gown, I’m fixated on her mouth and the way her smile gives her dimples, which for some deranged reason I want to kiss.

  The pup yips. The quiet moment is lost. She gestures for me to follow her and we go down the hall to a room at the back of the house. I catch a few glimpses of the way her nightie molds to her body. She’s all innocence and light. I’m all hunger and darkness.

  A hint of honeyed scent wafts in the air as she moves ahead of me. My eyes drop to the silken stretch of skin along the back of her thighs. Her calves are shapely, her feet small and delicate. I imagine clasping her ankle. I could wrap my fingers all the way around her calf. I bet her skin would be silken… and taste like honey.

  I need to think of something else, anything else to keep from turning into some sort of barbarian. I’ve never had such a strong reaction to a pretty girl, and I’m holding onto my sanity by a narrow, fraying thread.

  Thankfully there’s something to distract me.

  The puppy dashes across the floor, skidding to a stop at our feet. He’s a bundle of fluff and wriggles, bright eyes and wagging tail. I draw a deep, shuddering breath, grateful for a reprieve from my dirty thoughts. If Lilly notices my discomfort, she gives no sign.

  The pup bounces around, eager for attention. I have to admit, he’s pretty damned cute. He looks like he’s some sort of terrier mix. Who knows. I can’t help smiling at the ball of fuzz. With the work I do, teaching and consulting, I move too much to have a dog. The sight of the dog makes me realize how much I’ve missed having one around. I crouch beside him. “Hey there, little guy.”

  The pup goes wild with excitement, practically throwing himself at me. Lilly’s watching me with a curious expression, a small smile playing upon her lips. A wisp of hair hangs from her braid, skimming her collarbone. Her skin’s creamy and looks soft and bitable.

  What do they say about forbidden fruit? That it tastes the sweetest? I’ve never craved forbidden fruit before. I’m not going to start now. Not happening. After I leave here tonight, I’m done thinking about this little morsel of temptation.

  As a professor, students are one hundred percent taboo. I don’t need to worry about having her in one of my classes since she’s an art history major, but she’s a student at Grenville. I shove my filthy thoughts aside as I pull my gaze back up to meet hers. She’s still smiling at me.

  “What?”

  “You’re a dog person.” Her smile widens. “I can tell by how much Taffy likes you.”

  This is the second time I’ve seen Lilly smile since I stepped inside her home. I’m momentarily dazzled. Her smile reaches her eyes. There’s a teasing glint in her eyes that makes me offer an answering smile before I’ve even realized it.

  I rake my fingers through my hair in an effort to collect my thoughts. “I am. Yeah. Right.” Get it together, Stone. “My parents have a ranch. We always have a passel of dogs, big herding dogs outside and, mom keeps a couple little ones inside.”

  She’s clearly a dog person, too. Her sweet, innocent smile makes me want to find out more about what makes her happy. I’d like to know what else brings a smile to her lips. I’d like to kiss her too. There’s that. Her robe hugs her curves. Her breasts are full, gorgeous and would fill my hand perfectly. A raw, primitive hunger writhes inside me, begging for a tiny taste of forbidden fruit.

  She doesn’t seem terribly self-conscious about her skimpy robe, but she doesn’t act flirty either. At first, I’d assumed she always pranced around men dressed like this, but now I’m pretty sure she’s not the type. She probably has no idea how fucking sexy she is.

  I’ve never dated a woman more than a few times. I like to keep it casual since I never stay in one spot for long, but I’m pretty sure one taste of her kiss and I’d forget about my no-dating rules. This girl could ruin me, I realize with complete certainty. My parents would love nothing better than to see me finally settle down and quit traveling so much. One look at Lilly and they’d mentally start naming grandkids.

  Both my parents encouraged me to get my education. I know they’re proud of my career. I travel the world, consulting on security issues, teaching classes, sometimes doing both at the same time. My two older sisters like to give me hell and call me Dr. Stone, but all of them would really like me to come home and help run Stone Cattle Ranch, especially since we started leasing the western acreage to graze a couple thousand head of mustangs.

  The dog runs around the room like a little maniac. He slurps up some water and promptly retches. Lilly frowns, wipes it up and washes her hands. “Taffy’s probably just a little excited. Silly little guy. He’s been sick a couple of times since we got home.”

  “Maybe he’s wound up from all the excitement.”

  “Or maybe it’s the stress of all the fighting at home,” Lilly says. “Dogs don’t like yelling and slamming doors and all that.”

  “It’s probably past his bedtime. Mine too.” I don’t want to leave, but I can’t stay, not without cr
ossing a line with Lilly. Who’s entirely too young for me. And a student, I remind myself. “I’m going to try to get a little sleep.”

  The dog wanders to his bed, curls up and closes his eyes. Lilly shows me to the front door.

  “Lock up behind me, Lilly.”

  “All right.” Her tone is sulky, but a smile tugs at her lips. “How long are you staying?”

  “Till the work’s done, darlin’.”

  She laughs softly and closes the door behind me. I hear the bolt slide across. When I get to my back door, she turns off the lights.

  Later, lying in bed, I try to sleep, but my mind and my body are humming with a fierce energy. I imagine the way her silken hair would feel wrapped around my fist as I kissed a line from her jaw to her lips. Lust roars through my body. If she’s a senior at Grenville, she’s leaving in a couple of weeks. Thank fuck. I can ignore the girl for a few days, even if her lush curves make me imagine sinking into her and claiming every inch of her body.

  But even then—no. It’s not happening. She can’t be more than twenty-two. Way the hell too young. I’m going to forget she’s lying in bed, in a silken nightie in a carriage house that’s fifty paces from my back door. I close my eyes and think about the last class I taught at the academy. It was a graduate class on cyber security. Super technical. Thinking about it helps my lust cool.

  I doze off but it doesn’t last long. Sometime later, maybe minutes, maybe an hour, headlights beam across my room. What the hell’s going on now? I grab my sweats, pull them on and with a growl of frustration, and cross to the window. Lilly’s in her tiny toy car backing out of her parking spot. She must be frazzled, because she’s doing a terrible job backing out of her spot. She topples the trashcan and drives over the lid, flattening it with her small, doll-sized car.

  I mutter a curse. Maybe two.

  Chapter Three

  Lilly