To Professor, with Love (Forbidden Men #2)

Sagging onto the mattress when the muscles in my body went into a post-coital coma, I stared at Noel in dazed wonder while he scrambled off the bed, jerked up his pants and dug through the pockets until he pulled out a folded line of condoms.

“Look, I remembered this time.” He was so boyishly adorable as he sent me a proud grin that I had to grin back. In fact, I had a feeling I was glowing from head to toe I felt so sublime.

He tore one off from the others and glanced at me, smiling as he shook his head. “You look like you’ve just been fucked silly.”

At the moment, I couldn’t feel insulted if I wanted to. I simply kept beaming. “Haven’t I?”

“Not yet.” A new determined gleam lit his eyes as he crawled back onto the bed. Hovering above me, he leaned in to kiss my lips. His tongue mated with mine as he suited up. And then his warm palm clasped my knee, nudging me open just a little more.

When he pushed inside, I threw my head back and breathed through my teeth. He was always just so...there. Huge and filling, like he wanted to take over every available space I had to give and then demand more.

Gripping my thighs, he wrapped my legs around his waist and curled his arms around me. Knotted together until I didn’t know where I ended and he began, we made love.

***

The room was quiet. Feeling too lethargic to move, I lounged sideways across Noel’s chest, completely nude as he ran his hand over my warm, sensitive spine.

“That feels...” I managed a moan. “So good.”

“Oh, yeah?” He sat up enough to lean over me and kiss my jutting hipbone. “Feels good to me too. You’re soft all over.”

I closed my eyes and smiled, unable to control the giddiness roaring through me. But I’d never had an after-sex experience like this before. With the two guys who hadn’t forced me, they’d left with excuses as soon as they’d finished. Actually, since the first hadn’t even bothered to finish, I guess only the one guy had pulled out as soon as he’d finished his business, and then he’d gone on his merry way.

But this...this was nice. I liked after-sex cuddling.

Noel rolled me from my side onto my back so he could kiss my belly button next, but a lump under my spine had me wiggling until I reached back and pulled up the blue bunny he’d won at the carnival.

Arching an eyebrow, he picked it up and sent me a smug grin. “I knew you’d keep this thing.” Then he used the soft cloth of the bunny’s ear to caress me from my navel and up between my breasts.

I sighed and stretched languidly under him.

He hummed in contentment. “I’m suddenly very, very glad you wear those frumpy clothes you do to school. I think I’d flip my shit if any other guy on campus had a clue what you looked like under them.”

I glanced at him, lifting my eyebrows. “What, you don’t like my power suits?”

He gave a quick laugh. “Power suits? Is that what you call them?”

I shrugged. What else should I call them? I wore them to gain the position I wanted on that campus.

“I know that’s not what you usually wear,” Noel went on. “At the bar in that sexy, black backless thing and to the carnival in those adorable jean shorts. I have a feeling you only wear your power suits to the university.”

I smiled with pride and kissed his cheek. “And you would be right.”

“Hell, I know I’m right. But why? Why do you do it? You know how...unflattering they look, right?”

With a roll of my eyes, I laughed. “Yes. That’s the point. I would rather be overlooked and misjudged with low expectations than to come in my first semester with a bunch of flash to intimidate people and make them think I want to roll right over them. Besides, I want them to know I care about my job, not fashion.”

“You have funny reasoning, Professor, but I’m still glad you don’t let everyone else see these curves.” He flung the bunny over his shoulder so he could use his fingers to stroke a knot on my hip. Pausing at it, he furrowed his brow. “What’s this?”

Ice formed in my veins. As he leaned down to examine the old knife scar and then kiss it, I jerked away. “Don’t.” The panic in my voice had him looking up and studying me, reading every uncomfortable, memory-laden expression on my face.

“Aspen,” he said softly, his sharp eyes seeing more than I wanted him to. “Was that a trigger?”

“Tr...?” I blinked. Why would he use that word? My therapist had always used that word. Shaking my head, I tried to laugh off the concern in his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean?”

“I mean...” He drew in a deep breath and then exhaled. Setting his fingers against the scar, he asked, “Did you get this from your rape?”

I blacked out. Seriously, for a split second, I saw nothing but absolute black. But I remained completely, horrifyingly conscious.

“Aspen?” Warm fingers cupped my shoulders. Blinking the black away, I watched a fuzzy image of Noel’s concerned face slowly fill my view. “Do you remember telling me about that?” he asked.