Page 5 of Playing with Fyre

It could cost me everything. My position at the college, my career…my life. I’ve been trying to talk myself out of it for weeks already, with no success. I want to see those small, pale hands trembling. I want them running down my belly and wrapping around my cock. I want to stare into Charlotte’s sea-green eyes as she opens that pretty little mouth of hers so I can shove my cock down her throat.

I want it so bad, I dream about it.

“Right up ahead.”

I blink, my mind scurrying to recall the last few minutes of the real world as I hastily shove away the image of young Charlotte moaning around my thick cock.

“This isn’t the best area,” I say grimly. “You bike home all the time?”

“It’s not so bad.”

I suppress a growl at her casual response. With both windows closed, her smell is intense, intoxicating. My blood is singing in my veins, and it takes every molecule of discipline I have not to pull the car over and shove my hand between her legs. And then take her to her apartment, pack her things, and move her into a better apartment. One where she’ll be safe. One where she’ll be close.

Fighting off those thoughts, I duck my head and scan the apartment blocks ahead. “Which one, Charlotte?”

When I glance at her, her face looks carved from white marble. Then she blinks, her lips parting and tongue darting out to wet them.

Jesus Christ, if she knew how close I was to turning this truck around and just—

“That one,” she says, pointing past my shoulder.

She must have seen something in my eyes, heard a tremor in my voice, because the truck barely stops before she’s outside, struggling to get her bike off the back of the truckbed. I watch her in the rearview mirror for a few seconds, composing myself, before stepping out to help her. But by the time I get to the back, her bike is on the ground and she’s swiping damp hair from her face with the back of her hand.

“Thank you,” she blurts out, and then hurries down the road.

She’s going in the wrong direction. We passed her apartment half a block ago.

Clever little girl, leading the wolf astray. She doesn’t seem to realize that I’ll always be able to find her, now that I have her scent.

Chapter Three

Charlotte

The Sizzling Griddle diner is always packed on a Friday night, but it’s the closest decent restaurant to my apartment. Here, I can order a cheeseburger and fries and not feel like I’m consuming half a gallon of cooking oil on the side.

But they’re so busy that the only option when the craving hits me on the weekend is walking two blocks to go fetch my order, or wait an hour for my food.

I’m not a patient woman.

Which is why I’m glaring at the back of a guy’s head, the one who’s been standing at the front of the queue for ten minutes because he can’t make up his mind about what he wants to order. I’m about to go over there and demand he falls back in line until he’s ready when an invisible touch strokes the skin between my shoulder blades.

Through a brief lull in the ambient chatter-clatter of the diner, I hear the jangle of the door’s bell. I turn, glance at the man who’s stepped inside, and face forward again. Then I do a double take.

It’s Professor Fyre.

Suddenly, my lust for a juicy cheeseburger is snuffed out. Something else replaces it…something much, much more carnal.

I’m starting to sweat.

It has nothing to do with the temperature inside the diner, or the jacket I threw on when I left my apartment, or even the walk over here.

It’s all him.

I can feelhim behind me.

I’m still mind-blown about the fact that he gave me a ride home earlier this week. I know I shouldn’t have said yes, but I couldn’t resist him. I mean, he’s handsome in class, but seeing him on the side of the street, out in the real world, was something else. Those five minutes I spent in the cab of his truck with him was the fuel for several dirty dreams and three exquisite masturbation sessions—two in the shower, one in my bed.

I just couldn’t get over how fucking sexy he looked with his dark, wet hair and his concerned expression.

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