Page 15 of Sweet and Sinful (Ian Crawford 3)

Risking a glance at him, I saw he was focusing on the prof, a slight smile on his lips. Brute.

I slid lower in my seat and bit my nails, realized what I was doing and stopped. My mind was so not on the lecture. The problem was I was dying to know what Ian had planned—my entire body was tingling with anticipation—but I didn’t want him to know that. I knew we were playing some kind of game and during it I was supposed to do what he said, but a part of me just couldn’t give in so easily. I was a fighter.

As the class neared its end, I seriously debated running. I could get up and leave any time—maybe I had a doctor’s appointment or I really had to go to the bathroom. Ian wouldn’t be able to follow me. Or would he? Ian of all people wouldn’t care how it looked.

The lecture ended and Ian leaned back in his seat, stretched his hands high over his head. “I see you decided not to take off. For a while there I thought you might.”

“I realized I can’t avoid you,” I mumbled. “You’re still my RC, remember?”

“Clever girl. At some point I would catch you at home with Melissa not around, and then what?”

“Trouble.”

He nodded solemnly. “Trouble.”

I stood first and slung my bag over my shoulder without looking at him. My eyes would betray my excitement. All my nerve endings felt alive and on fire, and he hadn’t even touched me yet. I could feel the heat of his body behind mine as we filed out of our row. The second we could stand side by side, he grasped my hand and held it tightly. He maneuvered us through the crowd and into the hall, walking determinedly like he had the night we first slept together. I could feel his pulse beating through his hand and knew he was just as excited as me.

“Do you have to walk so fast?” I asked him breathlessly.

He smiled down at me. “This is my usual pace. Sorry I forgot you have little legs.”

I glared up at him. “Or you’re just dragging me across campus.”

“I’d throw you over my shoulder caveman style if I could.”

“Ian Crawford worried about what other people think. Mark this day with a gold star.”

“Bruce recommended I don’t make a display. I’m simply being respectful. Of Bruce.”

“Not me.”

He grinned at me wolfishly. “No, being respectful of you is definitely not my intention.”

We took the steps two at a time to the basement and Ian unlocked the door, strode down the hall to his room. And now I was reminded of another night: the night of the spanking party, when Ian had pulled me past every room until he’d finally found a vacant one.

Before Ian had always kept his suite unlocked, so I was surprised when he used his key again. He let me walk in first and then locked the door behind us. The click of the lock felt so final. I’d made my choice, and here I was.

“Go into the bedroom,” he said in a low voice. “I left something for you on the bed.”

Pulse racing, I turned the knob and entered the bedroom. At first I didn’t see anything. Maybe I’d been expecting a large, scary ob

ject of some kind. I blinked a few times as I took in the items lying on the comforter: plaid skirt, white blouse and black tie.

“What’s this?” I asked, turning to face him.

Ian closed his bedroom door and leaned against it, grinning wickedly. “I thought we could do a little role playing.”

His stance against the closed bedroom door also reminded me of that night. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end—I had a strange sensation I’d been down this road before. He pushed off the door and approached me, that smile still tugging at his lips and his green eyes full of promise.

“Role playing?”

He stopped directly in front of me, trailed a finger along my jaw. “Yes, sexual role play. You’ll play yourself the night of the spanking party, and I’ll play me.” He smirked. “Only this time it’s going to go down a little differently.”

I shivered. “Still angry about that one, huh?”

“I’m not angry, but punishing you will be rewarding all the same.”

God he was good at this. Playing the boss came so naturally to him. Excited shivers raced through my body as he gathered my hair into a ponytail. “Put this up.”

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