Page 5 of Her Professor's Valentine

He sighed and kissed the backs of my hands, then flipped them over and kissed my palms. Four perfect touches. Just that small brush of his lips—forbidden and gentle—sent a jolt of heat between my thighs.

“I shouldn’t have brought you, but I couldn’t help myself.” He kissed to my left wrist, his mouth warm and decadent against my skin. “I want to keep you safe. Here with me is the best spot for that.”

Was the room spinning? I couldn’t seem to get my breath. Professor Elliot was kissing me. I blinked hard and opened my eyes to discover this wasn’t some sexed-up wet dream. Professor Elliot was really kissing me.

“This is … I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

He shook his head, his hair falling in silky tendrils against the back of my arm. “My private life is mine, not the school’s.”

“No, I mean about what happened in the woods.” If the school found out he’d decked Tucker, I didn’t know what they’d do, but it wouldn’t be good. “If I told the police, would you be in trouble?” I fidgeted. “I don’t want that, but I don’t want Tucker to come after me again, either.”

He growled and rose, sitting beside me. “Going to the police won’t help, but I know some people who will get the message across. He won’t touch you, or any other woman, like that again.”

My eyebrows rose as I turned to him. “Will they hurt him?”

“Don’t worry about that.” His voice was cold, the tone almost venomous.

I chewed my bottom lip and thought about it. He was probably right about the police. A simple review of recent headlines told me they might not take my accusations seriously, and even if they did, Tucker would get a slap on the wrist.

Professor Elliot leaned back, the expanse of his washboard stomach on display. “I won’t stop you if you want to call them, but I can promise you my way is more effective.”

I sighed and tucked my hair behind my ears, first the left ear, then the right. My hands itched to repeat the pattern. Four was my favorite number. But I tried to control the impulse.

“Do it again.” His voice flitted across me like a quiet moth.

“What?” Color rushed into my cheeks. Were my tics that noticeable?

“Penny, I know. It’s okay. Do it again if it makes you feel better.”

I repeated the movements, then rested my hands in my lap. The pattern soothed me, helped me think straight. I glanced back at him and tried to bat away my embarrassment at my obvious mental issues.

“So, do you want to go to the police?” He scrubbed a hand down his face, the stubble ticking against his palm.

“As long as Tucker stays away from me and doesn’t try to hurt anyone else, I’m good with your plan.”

“He’ll never hurt anyone else, not after my guys get to him.” His lips turned down at the corners in his signature glower. “I can assure you.”

“Good.” I took a deep breath, then took a risk. I wrapped my fingers around his.

His glower faded when he met my eyes, and that heat of his returned, blazing even higher. He sat straighter, his arm pressing against mine.

“Why don’t you ever look at me?” I had to ask the one question that had been eating at me for months.

“Because you’d see.” He shrugged, as if his answer were obvious.

“See what?”

“This.” He pressed his mouth to mine.

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