Page 40 of Falling for Mindy

“Are you training for a marathon or something?”

“No. It’s just how I deal with stress,” I said, hedging.

“I eat cookies to deal with stress, although clearly, I have clean yoga clothes that have been in my bag for a couple weeks without me going to a yoga class. So maybe I should consider that.”

“As far as keeping you safe, I think we need to figure out a plan. I’d suggest that you go to campus with me in the morning, and until this is cleared up, that you don’t go out alone. Does that make sense to you?”

“Yeah. I don’t like it, because I’m used to being pretty independent, but I want to be smart about this,” she agreed. “I have to call Adeline in the morning and let her know what’s going on. She knows I gave Alicia my number, but since this has escalated, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be written up for it.”

“You will. You’ll get a reprimand, but don’t worry about it. I’ll explain it to the grantors who gave you the internship. I don’t anticipate any problems,” I told her reassuringly.

“You don’t have to do that. But I appreciate it,” she said a little shyly.

“That’s a dollar for the therapy jar,” I said teasingly.

“That was not excessive thanks! You just did something nice, and I thanked you for it one time. Do not try to tone police me. Your privilege is showing!” she laughed, and I laughed with her.

“Ah, women’s studies humor,” I chuckled. She rolled her eyes.

“I couldn’t resist.”

We picked up the takeout containers and threw them away. She put her glass in the sink and offered to do the dishes, but I loaded the few items in the dishwasher.

“I’m going to bed. Good night, Kyle,” she said.

I had a strong urge to reach for her and claim her mouth, to kiss her with all the passion I’d been holding back. I resisted the instinct and nodded to her instead and said good night even as regret and longing tightened in my gut. It was going to be a long, hard night, I knew. And I meant that in every sense of the words.

CHAPTER 25

MINDY

Katie had texted when she made it to our mom and dad’s house, and I told her I was okay. I was actually wide awake and shaking. I had gotten myself into a real mess this time and I was afraid. Really, seriously afraid of this guy who had hurt Alicia repeatedly and now thought I might be hiding her from him.

I was afraid he’d find her and hurt or kill her. I was afraid he’d find me. I’d left my car on campus. I hadn’t gone back to my apartment. I had turned off location features on my phone. But still, I felt nervous like he was watching me. I couldn’t sleep. Trying to read was no good because I couldn’t concentrate. I just kept rereading the same sentence over and over again, never really understanding it.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to count backward, but I heard the shower down the hall. That meant Kyle, who was in the same house as me, had removed all his clothes and stood under steaming hot water that sluiced down the lines of muscle. Water ran in rivulets down the center of his abs, along the alluring slant of his cut lines that pointed like an arrow to his crotch. I shivered at the memory of his body, at the fantasy I shouldn’t be spinning in my mind.

He was helping me, a professor and friend who was concerned for my well-being. He was not here for me to objectify and lust over. Never mind that I was holding myself still because I wanted to jump out of bed and dash down the hall, rip open the shower curtain and step under the stream of water and kiss him. My wet hair would be in my eyes, my shirt plastered to my hot flesh. The water noise stopped, and I started to imagine him toweling himself off. After a few minutes, I scrubbed my hands over my face and decided I had to get my mind off this.

I threw back the covers and went down to the kitchen to get a drink of water. Really cold water, preferably, so I could calm down and quit thinking about my handsome, sexy hero like that. When I got to the refrigerator in the darkened kitchen, I saw him there. He was shirtless, his back to me as he filled a glass at the sink. When he turned around and saw me, I bit my lip. I walked toward him, took the glass from his hand and took a sip.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I said.

His hair was wet from the shower, and up close, he smelled so good, like fresh body wash and shampoo in some sharp, spicy fragrance. I licked my lips. He reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. I made a noise, an audible moan from just that caring touch that probably hadn’t been intended as erotic. When I moaned, I saw it register on his face, the gold flecks in his eyes flaring.

Kyle kissed me. But ‘kissed’ is too ordinary a word, too tame. This was a wild, ferocious kiss, possessive and demanding, like all bets were off and restraint was a distant memory. That kiss flowed through my senses, both reminding me of the times we’d been together before and also searing into me with a new intensity. He was eating at my mouth, urgent and full of need. In seconds, his palms scraped the tender skin on the back of my thighs and I realized I hadn’t worn my yoga pants downstairs—I’d been lying in bed in just the long t-shirt. He lifted me and set me on the edge of the counter.

Before I could teeter on the edge of embarrassment that I’d wandered into his kitchen in just a t-shirt, his mouth was between my legs. Those questing lips parted my seam and he licked me, making me clench and my thighs tighten as if they would cramp up with the exertion of withstanding this arousal. His hands slid between my thighs, parting them more so he could bury his face in my pussy. I twisted my fingers in his hair and held on as he lapped and sucked and licked my most secret places, coaxing a thunderous orgasm out of me. A shock of pleasure ripped through me, and I threw my head back, thrashing helplessly as he kept eating me out even while I screamed my pleasure and my thighs shuddered around him.

He kissed his way back up my stomach and then stood, pulling my shirt down for me and then scooping me up in his arms. It was really hard not to think of him as a hero who was rescuing me when he did things like that, like picking me up and carrying me to his bed. Things that made me think of old movies and canopy beds, rose petals and satin sheets. He was being so romantic, sweeping me right off my feet. It felt different from the last frantic coupling in his office. This was slower, more serious, intentional. It wasn’t the result of instant lust and hunger. It was thoughtful, tender, giving.

He cradled me in his arms, placed me on the bed. His palm cradled my head and he kissed me softly. It was somehow even sexier than the urgency we’d shared before. The longing and lust twined together to make this feel deeper and more meaningful. The intimacy of the way Kyle looked at me, the strength of how I felt for him—a word I wouldn’t even let myself think of—was enough to make me tremble in his arms before he even touched me again.

He was above me then, filling my vision and overwhelming my senses. His forearms bracketed my head, bearing his weight. I saw the flex of muscle in his shoulders and couldn’t resist kissing his shoulder, the rounded cap, the tendons, the sensitive skin of his throat. He made a sound like he was being strangled, and I kissed his mouth to soothe him. All that did was stoke the fire between us, and he rolled to his side, his big hand brushing my hair back from my cheek and stroking my face reverently, lovingly almost.

He kissed my forehead and my eyelids, my cheekbone, the corner of my mouth. My body throbbed and my vision was blurry when I opened my eyes, all of me just belonging to Kyle without ever a word being spoken to confess it. He had to see it just looking at me, how overcome I was with feeling. He pressed his lips to mine tenderly, shushed me and wiped a tear from my face with his thumb, a tear I hadn’t even realized I shed. The intimacy was so powerful that it had wrung a tear from me. I was overcome by the desire to tell him how I felt, but I pressed my lips together, unwilling to ruin such a perfect moment with mere words.

His fingers trailed down my body, working up under my shirt. The brush of his fingertips made my nipples go hard and my stomach muscles tense and tighten. My breath came in helpless gasps. I clutched his arm, my eyes locked on his. He stroked my breasts, fondled them, teased the nipples. Then he peeled off my shirt slowly, teasingly, and began to kiss my chest, under my breast and clasping my nipple at last between his lips, brushing it with his hot tongue.

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