Page 59 of My Forbidden Professor

The self-loathing in her tone makes my jaw clench hard. “Stop that,” I growl, catching her chin and forcing her to meet my blazing stare. “You did what you had to in order to survive. There’s no shame in that, not one goddamn ounce.”

Steph’s lips press into a tight line, the war between belief and ingrained cynicism playing out in her intelligent mind. I can practically see the gears turning, all her survival instincts and trauma responses battling against hope.

A breath escapes her, sweeping warm against my collarbone. “It’s not that simple, Jacob. I’ve tried for years to find where he keeps those photos. I can’t just stumble through his front door and grab what I want.”

I trace the delicate arch of her ear, my gentle touch at odds with the burning need to tear that fucker Daniel apart. “This is too big for you to keep trying to handle alone, babe. We need help. Help with the power and reach you need to put an end to this.”

She chews her lip, the gears visibly turning behind her eyes as she wrestles with the implications of what I’m proposing. Finally, she lets out a resigned sigh. “You’re talking about telling my father everything, aren’t you?”

A muscle ticks in my jaw, but I don’t look away. We’re way past tiptoeing around uncomfortable truths. “Yes, I am. He needs to know the full extent of what his employee has been doing to his own daughter all these years.”

Steph flinches, but doesn’t protest further. If anything, a flicker of resigned acceptance washes over her lovely features.

“It’s not that simple, though,” she murmurs after a weighty pause. “You think my father will just...what? Welcome me back with open arms after hearing how I’ve been compromised and manipulated? No matter why, I still did it. I could have gone to him years ago.”

“You did what you had to do to survive. You were a child. A victim. Daniel knew what he was doing right from the start. In no way are you responsible for this. If your father has even half a soul, he’ll be able see that, too.”

Her lips part on a shuddering inhale, eyes shining with a shimmer of unshed tears. But she’s silent. Troubled but at least considering.

“You’re not alone in this anymore, baby. I’m right here with you. We lay it all on the table, messy and raw, without any more lying or pretending.” I brush the pad of my thumb over the silken curve of her cheekbone, feeling the dampness of her tears against my skin. “No more hiding, no more being subjugated by an asshole like Daniel, you understand?”

Steph’s chin trembles faintly, but her gaze remains locked onto mine with a simmering intensity that makes my breath stall. Then, slowly, she gives a jerky nod.

“Okay,” she rasps. “Okay, we lay it all on the line and deal with the fallout together, come what may.”

“Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?” she asks.

“Because you’ve given me everything. Your mind. Your body. Your heart. And now…now you’ve given me your trust. The kind that’s absolutely priceless. And I thank you for that,” I murmur against the fevered silk of her mouth before claiming her in a searing kiss.

Let the shitstorm come. We’ll both be ready. I’ll finally see the end of the demons that have haunted her for too long.

We make love again. Long into the night and the day. We eat. Sleep. Day drifts into night. I don’t know the time. I don’t care. This is our oasis in time and I’ll take every second of it as the gift it is. Before real life can infringe and take it away from us. I wash her when we shower but I don’t get her fully dry before I’m kissing her again and taking her back to bed. We both reach our climax together. I pull her to my chest, and still inside her, drift to sleep. I’m drowning in her and I simply don’t care. I slide into her soft heat and make love to her slowly.

Distant noises rouse me and become part of my dream, but sleep clings to me and I don’t fully wake. The noises are persistent. The sound of a door opening and closing. Soft murmured voices. A short conversation. Careful footsteps on carpet growing louder.

“Steph? Sweetheart?”

The soft, warm body next to me jolts and I’m thrown into full wakefulness. The covers pull from my body as I bundle Steph in my arms, toss her beneath me and turn toward the threat. Two silhouettes stand in the doorframe, one larger than the other. Who are they? Burglars? I bare my teeth at them. Whoever they are, I won’t allow them to hurt Steph.

She wriggles, eyes peeking from the edge of the covers. She brushes her hair from her eyes, that flare when she sees the couple. “Adeline? Dad? I…you’re back early?”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Steph

It takes a moment for my brain to fully catch up, then—oh my God. Adeline peeks around Dad’s shoulder, eyes wide and concerned. They both look tan and relaxed except for their twin shocked expressions.

“We’re not home early,” Adeline says. It looks suspiciously like she’s trying to stifle laughter. “We’ve been gone nearly two weeks already. Our flight landed a few hours ago.”

I run through the days in my head and curse again. Three days! I’ve been in bed making love with Jacob for three whole days.

My gaze darts guiltily to Jacob, panic fluttering in my chest at the realization that he’s been conspicuously silent and still beside me this entire time. But one look at the strangled anguish etched into his beautiful features is enough to momentarily eclipse my own rising dread. That, and the fact I’m wrapped entirely in the bed covers, while every glorious inch of him is on display. I try to cover his mid-section up in a flurry, but I’m trapped in cotton which is made worse when his arms tighten further around me.

“Steph?” Dad’s voice snaps me back to his face. “Is...everything all right over there?”

I open my mouth, then snap it closed again, words shriveling up like ashes on my tongue. The burn on my cheeks is real.

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