Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
His slow-growing ear-to-ear grin transformed his handsome face into a force of masculine beauty. I could almost anticipate his witty comeback delivered with sophisticated panache because right there and then, he could have been James freaking Bond.
But he was Thomas Hartwell, so he said, “It’s probably safest to classify fabled marine life of the part male, part fish variety in a whimsical rather than a cool category. Uh…but as you can probably tell, I’m not an expert at cool.”
My answering smile was so wide it actually hurt my cheeks. If I didn’t make an exit now, I was liable to do something dumb like hike my leg over his hip, and hump him like a ho. And I highly doubted I could patch the aftermath of that kind of faux pas with superglue and fashion advice, so I held out my hand instead.
“You’re cool just the way you are.”
“Thanks,” he replied, slipping his palm against mine in a firm and steady hold that made me weak in the knees.
His touch was strong and soothing. It anchored me and thrilled me at the same time, leaving me wanting more.
Which had to be why I lost my ever-lovin’ mind.
I leaned in to peck his cheek—the same friendly good-bye I would have bestowed on any new friend-slash-acquaintance. I think the gesture caught him off guard because he tilted his face toward me and suddenly, his lips were a mere inch away. I could smell peppermint on his breath and detect a hint of gold in his blue eyes.
Damn, he was gorgeous.
And he was right there. So close I could just…seal my mouth over his. So I did.
Yes, I kissed the professor.
And God, it was good.
His lips were soft and supple but firm too. I sensed untapped power and a firestorm of potential heat. I was like a moth to a flame. I couldn’t step aside to save my life. So I stood frozen, my lips locked on his, and waited for him to direct us.
Thomas didn’t disappoint. He slipped his fingers around my nape, tilted his chin, and molded his mouth to mine. He took over so skillfully, I might have thought he’d orchestrated this afternoon, somehow knowing we’d end up here. And I damn near almost melted when he pushed his tongue inside, wordlessly demanding I keep up with him like some kind of unexpected hero in a romance novel.
I clung to him, twirling my tongue with his with hungry strokes that lit a fire in my groin. My cock ached in my tight jeans. I barely fought the urge to grind against him like a pole dancer on speed, but sanity returned at the last possible second. I broke the kiss, panting for air.
He didn’t move for a long moment. I could feel his breath on my cheek and the scrape of his scruff along my jaw.
I put a single digit on my lower lip. “Did that really happen?”
His Adam’s apple convulsed in his throat. “I think it did.”
“Wow. That was…wow.”
“Agreed.” He glanced away briefly before stopping me with that brilliant blue gaze. “Um…I should go.”
“Yes, um…of course. Good night, Professor.”
“Good evening, Noah.”
I stared after him in a daze, blinking in disbelief as he disappeared into the shadows.
Holy shit.
I’d kissed a client. Not just any ol’ client either. A referral-slash-friendly-acquaintance of my boss. I’d given my number, flirted shamelessly, then lustily thrown myself at him.
And I wasn’t even sorry about it.
4
NOAH
School was never my thing. I wasn’t dumb by any stretch, but according to my father, grades didn’t matter as long as I could bend it like Beckham. Or my personal fave, Messi.
I skated through high school doing the bare minimum amount of work for any given class. One of the best “cheat” tools I learned was that basic definitions provided ample hints to multiple-choice questions. And in my estimation, life was a series of A, B, or C options anyway, so it made perfect sense.
This concept worked for me. I could glance at my history notes, memorize the Google entry for catchphrases and key points for say…the War of 1812, and somehow, I’d earn a passing grade. I’d never aced any subject in school, but my speed-reading memorization trick proved useful long after I’d quit professional soccer. Or it quit me.
When I got home on the evening of the cracked lens, I looked up three things…PhDs, biomolecular physics, and lust. Yes, lust. Because I had a serious case of lust for the professor.
I learned the following: PhD was a doctorate in philosophy and was widely considered the highest academic achievement awarded after completing a course. And biomolecular physics had something to do with problem-solving life sciences at a molecular level. To be honest, skimming that entry was the reading equivalent of watching paint dry, so memorizing anything substantial was never going to happen.