Page 26 of Ruthless Temptation
Dusk is wrapping the forested landscape in its haunting, ashen cloak.
A growl from Professor Holmes pulls my thoughts back inside the cabin, and in the dull light I find him staring at me. His eyes are darker than midnight, glistening like shards of obsidian, and his jaw clenches with what I’ve come to recognize as restraint.
“What’s wrong?” I ask quietly.
My heart thunders in my chest. He doesn’t answer me. Instead, his strong arms reach for my face and pull me over the center console towards him. Professor Holmes kisses the question from my lips, replacing my curiosity with an urgent hunger for more of him. More ofthis.
It feels like he’s devouring me. He kisses me with every fiber of himself—all his passion, all his desire, all his choking lust. I accept it, tightening my hands on his wrists and melting into him as the waves of passion take me over.
When we break apart, I’m out of breath and he’s got my lipstick all over his mouth.
He stares at me with wide eyes, his chest heaving like he’s just run a marathon. A small smile creeps on to my face, and Professor Holmes glowers.
“What was that about?” I ask, leaning back in the leather seat.
He makes a show of fixing his tie and looking in the rear-view mirror to adjust his hair. He takes a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit and wipes my lipstick off his face. I watch him curiously, drinking in how handsome he looks when he’s lost his composure.
“When I told you to wear something I’ll like to take off of you, I meantafterdinner,” he says, irritation twisting his brow.
I chuckle, reaching over to rest my hand on his thigh. He freezes. “You weren’t specific.” I bat my eyelashes as I look up at him, inching my hand closer to his crotch. “So, you don’t like my outfit?” I pout.
His eyes settle on my chest. I know my nipples are hard and I bet he can see them.
“No, I love it,” he says, clearing his throat. “Maybe a bit too much. I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to endure two hours of you looking like this and knowing I won’t be able to touch you. You lookand smellgood enough to eat.”
My hand grazes his cock and he sucks in a sharp breath. He’s hard, and even through his pants I can feel the ridges of him. Is he commando too? My smile grows.
“Why can’t you touch me before?” I ask, inching closer to him. I lean my torso over the center console. “I’m not wearing anything underneath this dress.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “We can be quick.”
Professor Holmes seems to seriously consider my proposition. I cross my legs, hiking my skirt a little higher, the friction sending a satisfying jolt of arousal to my core. He sucks in a sharp breath then moves my hand away from him.
The car purrs to life a second after.
“We don’t have the time,” he says, when we start moving again. “We’re already a few minutes late as it is.” Then, he gives me a knowing glance. “You know it’s never quick.”
I giggle. “There’s a first time for everything.” Though I’m a little disappointed, Professor Holmes is a hard nut to crack. Ineverysense. “We don’t have to go to dinner.”
He chuckles humorlessly. "No, it is important that we do.”
He runs his hand over his chin. Over the past few weeks, he’s let his beard grow longer.
“Why?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything else.
I’m satisfied with the way things are, I want to say. We don’t have much time left, anyway.I push the thought away as quickly as it appears in my mind.
Focus on the now, Tara.
The lack of conversation grows deafening. The rumble of the SUV’s engine becomes the backdrop for my thoughts. I lean against the door, staring out the window. It’s a while before he finally speaks, long enough that it takes me a moment to remember what we were even talking about before the silence swallowed me up.
“I want you to know that you’re important to me,” he says. “That it’s not just about how good your pussy is.” I see the corner of his lips twist into a small smile.
I roll my eyes. “Is this because of what I told you a few nights ago?” My words come off harsher than I anticipated. “You don’t have to feel sorry for me, Professor Holmes. I’ve?—”
He cuts me off. “You can call me Erik.”
That stops me momentarily. I give him a long look, trying to keep my face serene even as my heart feels like it’s about to jump right out of my mouth. Whatever we have is changing shape right before my eyes. I’m confused about how I feel about it.
“You don’t have to feel sorry for me, Erik.” My mouth feels full of cotton. “I’ve come to terms with my future,” I lie. “I just want to enjoy the now.”
