Page 9 of Kept

I smoothed my skirt down over my knees, feeling suddenly shy even with Rhett’s tongue in my mouth, and tentatively ran my hands over his chest.

“I can get you Plan B,” he said, pulling away long enough to look into my eyes. “Or are you on the pill?”

I nodded. If I didn’t have a measure of protection, I wouldn’t have let it go that far.

He relaxed a little. “Good.” I felt like a mouse hypnotized by a snake as he tilted his head to kiss me. “I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

“You will?” I’d thought this was Bourdillon, not Wonderland. Somehow, in the back of my sated lizard brain, I’d thought we would never mention this again if we ever ran into each other.

“Jane.” Rhett made me look up at him. He raised his eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t I?”

I needed to get home to Mom, make sure I had everything I needed for class, and most of all, I needed to come down from the absolute thrill of fucking Rhett. And having his phone number. And now he was telling me that he wanted to see me again.

I swallowed. “I suppose you will, working in the same place and all.”

He smiled. “Not just because of that. Let me walk you out.”

I got myself together and yanked the stained cardigan over my rumpled dress. I looked like I’d had a rough day. Not like I’d just had sex with a professor. Or so I wanted to think.

He walked me through the darkened halls, and I paused outside the massive doors leading to the parking lot and paved drives. Spruce Drive was only a mile and a half away, separated from Bourdillon by a thick stretch of forest. I’d already found a neat footpath that was possible to follow even in the dark.

“Where’s your car? I can drive you home.”

I looked up into Rhett’s handsome face, all earnestness. I didn’t have a car, not even a beater. I walked the mile, and even if I had a car, the last thing I needed was to drive it three glasses of wine in.

“I’m parked at the far end of the lot,” I lied, feeling hot shame touch my neck and cheeks. “I need to take a minute and call my mom anyways, but thank you.”

It felt like he was staring right through me. “Are you absolutely sure? It’s no problem to take you home.”

I shook my head, resisting the urge to look away. He’d know I was full of it if I did. “Really. I do need to talk to her alone. I’ll be fine.”

There was a fraught moment where I wondered what I should do. The parking lot was almost empty but for three visible cars, and we were in one of the quieter alcoves, a side door that no one could see unless they were standing out in the lot. I couldn’t go on my toes and kiss a prof in plain sight, and thanking him for screwing me on a table seemed… weird.

Rhett reached up and touched my face, pressing a finger against my lips. “You were always stubborn. I’ll let you go this time.”

I had the feeling he was letting me go for another reason, but I had no idea what it was, and I was too frazzled to consider what it might be. “Good night, Rhett.”

“Good night, Jane.”

I hurried into the parking lot, and when I was sure I was hidden by shadows, I ducked off towards Spruce Drive on foot. Only once, before I left the warm lights of Bourdillon behind, did I look back.

I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a tall, dark shadow lingered near the door.

Chapter Four

The cottagewe rented out on Spruce Drive was lit up with warm light like it was Christmas. I stopped outside the door to wring out my bedraggled hair and make myself as presentable as possible. Rain had started falling halfway through the last half-mile home.

Mom was at the stove, stirring a giant pot of soup. I immediately tried to take over, but she must’ve been feeling like herself today because she refused to budge.

“You should’ve told me you’d be late, honeybun,” she said, but there was no heat in the chiding. She knew better than to worry, and besides, there was a pile of romance novels and a half-drunk mug of tea by the easy chair. She’d probably had her nose in a book all evening. “How was work?”

“It was great,” I said, trying not to sound how I felt, which was a strange mix of terrified and exhilarated.

I, Jane Fawkes, consummate bookworm, complete mouse, and definitive Plain Jane, had screwed Rhett Harlow on a library table. My sexual fantasies had all come true.

But he was a professor, and it was inevitable I’d have to actually see him at some point again. I had his number in my phone.

Oh my god, what had I done?

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