Page 12 of Tangled with the Professor

“My dad lost his job,” she says. “We had to move into this tiny apartment for two years.” Her voice is far away as she recalls her side of the nightmare. “My brother almost had to defer college for a year to get a job.”

“The company tried to make your dad a scapegoat,” I say. “Whether or not he knew about their practices, he would have had no real control over what his bosses did. But I’m sure that didn’t help him getting a new job right away.”

She looks up at me, coming back to the present with a frown. “But that wasn’t your fault. You just presented your findings. Did you ever offer an opinion about my father?”

“It was outside the scope of my research,” I say simply. “There was no reason to say anything about him one way or the other, but he still blames me for the company going down.”

“That company deserved to go down,” she hisses. “I was upset at the time but a few years ago I looked into the damage it caused that community. They’re still seeing the effects!” Isabelle huffs angrily and then stands up, her hands on her hips. “And we’re perfectly fine now. Better than fine. My dad needs to let go of the past and at least give you a chance.”

My heart soars as I jump up, full of joy that Isabelle isn’t pissed off at me. Her beautiful, lush lips are set with indignation on my behalf and I pull her into my arms. This is the woman I love. She’s stolen my heart with her sense of fairness and drive and the way she cares so much about my feelings.

“I’m so sorry for how they’re treating you,” she says, her breath warm against my neck.

“I don’t care about that,” I tell her honestly. “Don’t be sorry.”

I lean back to look into her eyes, trying to express everything I’m feeling with a look since there aren’t enough words to convey it all. Her face relaxes and she smiles up at me and I dip my head to kiss her.

As soon as we come up for air, she wraps her arms around my neck and holds on tight.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says breathlessly.

And of course I can’t agree fast enough.

Chapter 8

Isabelle

It barely took me five minutes to get changed and pack up, my sights set on getting away from the toxic vibes my family were raining down on us. Mark held tight to my hand the entire way, and in what seemed like no time at all we were at his house.

This is the first time I’ve seen the good sized cottage on the outskirts of our college town. It’s beautiful, but I’m too wrapped up in his strong arm around me as he leads me up the cobbled walkway to the solid oak door to really notice much about the front garden. The air is cold, with the bite of a storm on the horizon, but I’m antsy and too warm in my coat.

He unlocks the door and lets me in, flipping on a light in the foyer to reveal a cozy cabin-like interior in warm, manly grays and beiges. As soon as he helps slide my coat down my arms, he catches my gaze and everything but his dark eyes fades away from my vision. Those eyes that can almost stop my heart are full of the same thing that suddenly wraps around my insides and fills me with even more heat than his toasty warm house.

I want him. Really want him. More than I did last night even, it feels like I’ll die if I don’t feel him inside of me soon.

I tip up my chin and make a soft sound and his lips are on mine. As if I’d communicated my needs with my eyes, his tongue is deep in my mouth, questing and taking. I slam my body against his and his arm wraps around my middle to holdme close. There’s no space between us, only our clothes, with the heat of our bodies burning to touch.

I shake with desire as I hold onto him, my arms locked tight around his neck, my fingers in his thick, soft hair. There’s almost an ache in my core, a yearning so deep it crawls all the way to my toes. My leg rises to wrap around his hips and with a groan he pushes me backwards until I’m pressed against the foyer wall. He stops kissing me to give me a slow smile that has my heart racketing against my ribs.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about how good you feel wrapped around me, little girl,” he says, combing his fingers through my hair.

I nod, and for the first time since we left my house, I feel completely safe and cared for. Mark saw that I was losing it, unable to take how they were treating him, and he instantly whisked me away to this refuge. I pull him closer so my mouth is near his ear.

“I want you too, Daddy,” I say, my cheeks blazing.

But it feels so right and his hard bulge jumps against my belly as he pulls me even tighter to him. He makes a low, growling noise in his throat and begins hungrily kissing down my neck.

“That’s right,” he says, tugging at the neckline of my top with his teeth. “Let your daddy take care of you.”

“Yes, please,” I moan, pushing his head further down.

He steps back long enough to whip my sweater over my head, smoothing his hands down my bare arms as his eyes grow dark as coals while he takes in my body. My nipples rise under his hot gaze, and he runs his thumbs over each one through the lacy fabric of my bra.

“I want to see my little girl’s pretty pink nipples,” he says, his voice a deep rumble that makes me squeeze my thighs together in anticipation.

“Yes, Daddy,” I say and with shaking hands I undo the clasp behind my back, sliding the bra down and tossing it away.

He looks up and down my torso with a feral grin, licking his lips and making me shudder and want to grab him. But I stand there like a good girl, waiting.

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