Page 20 of Bad Professor

Next time.

Will there be a next time?

This feels so much like a one-night thing, but does it have to be?

I thought she’d be timid, that I would be gentle and slow, but once I was inside her, there was no gentle or slow.

She is not slow. She’s like a pot on a low simmer that only needed a bit of heat to get to a raging boil. I’ve never met anyone like that.

I just had her and still, lust grips me in a tight hold. I want nothing more than to stay in bed beside her, wake her with my mouth between her legs…

But I don’t.

I check my phone instead.

Max texted an hour ago.

MAX: going to Cincinnati with Cady tomorrow morn to check on Nick. You in? Leave first thing

ME: ya

With a great deal of reluctance—so much reluctance—I slide out of bed, carefully so I don’t wake her. If I stay much longer, I’ll fall asleep and if I do, I’ll miss my chance to check on Nick.

Besides, I never stay. It’s awkward, you never know what to say, or whether they want sex again…

Would Tilly want sex again?

Quietly, I get up and get pull on my boxers, leaving my jeans undone. Tilly’s dress lies in an untidy pile on the floor. I think her underwear is in the living room.

I did that. I pick up her dress, folding it carefully and leaving it on top of her dresser. I find her underwear in the other room and leave them on top. As I tiptoe out of her bedroom again, I look back once, marvelling at how sweetly Tilly is sleeping.

Why did I not even take off her bra?

She was out cold as soon as her head hit the pillow. I don’t know anything about her— what she does or how she spends her day, but I have a feeling it was me who exhausted her.

The thought puffs my chest. I feel off-balance like I’m on board a boat when it hits a big wave. My legs are shaky—I had sex with a woman I just met. That has happened before, but the shaky legs have not.

There’s a cat.

I didn’t notice the cat when I came in. I only had eyes for Tilly, eager for more. To touch her… to taste… feel her under me.

The cat sits in the middle of the hall, guarding the rest of the apartment. Or maybe wondering who I am, and what I did to Tilly.

She screamed my name. She started so quietly, without even a peep, and finished by screaming my name.

That puffs up my chest, too.

I bend, offering my hand to the cat, but it takes off in a flurry of black and white fur.

I’ve had my share of success with women. I have moves that work, the eagerness and experience to ensure that when I have sex with a woman, she’s in for a good time.

I have never made anyone scream.

I pause at that realization and look back at the door I closed behind me. It would be easy to slip back into that bed with her, to wake up with her in the morning, or even for a few hours, and see what else we can do.

But… Nick. Reluctantly, I head for the living room.

She left a lamp on; I didn’t really give her a chance to turn off the lights because I needed to get her to bed.

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