Page 14 of Falling for Roxanne

I could write a ten-page essay on those jeans he wore. The faded lines radiating across the thighs from the strain on the fabric to contain those muscular legs, and the thick ridge tucked to one side that showed me the outline of a big, fat part of my professor that I should not have spent half of the class thinking about.

I stared so hard that the fabric should have melted under my gaze. I could probably draw it from memory, every single detail. But I wasn’t going to let my best friend, who was already teasing me about Hamilton, know that I was fantasizing about his dick all the time. That I’d been slick with want when I got up from my seat in class, that I had touched myself that night, revving up a vibrator and pretending it was him pounding me.

She didn’t need to know that the time I spent in the conference room talking about the case with him had been the biggest aphrodisiac of my life. I had been distracted horribly by thoughts about him, breathless and sweaty, for hours, barely able to concentrate. I wanted to impress him with my legal skills and diligence, not with how easy I was, how I was sure his mouth would feel incredible on mine, and that I spent more time imagining what it would feel like to get on my knees in front of him and unzip his fly than I did envisioning a positive outcome for the legal appeal I was working on. I couldn’t deny how much I wanted him, but I didn’t have to give her all the details.

“Yeah, the ones that fit that muscular ass like they were made for him. I never wanted to be a piece of denim until that morning. The best part of waking up that day was Levis on his ass, not my coffee.”

“I’ve got to head in to the office. I’ll see you tonight.”

“You bet. Have a fun day playing in the sandbox with the big boys,” she said. I rolled my eyes at her and took off.

Devon, the paralegal, had left me some calls to make, an email to reply to, and some filing. I breezed through that quickly and got back to work on the appeal. I was obsessed with the original case, and I’d read the court report probably six times. All the documents were there, and I’d followed the trail of the supposed physical evidence and witness accounts. I had a ton of notes, and I was working on a list. I knew that Hamilton was busy with his other cases as well as the courses he taught. He wouldn’t have time in his schedule to meet with me to hear my thoughts on the case. So I was going to make a list, a nice, concise, bullet-point list and email it to him.

I finished my list, proofread it twice, and then emailed it to Hamilton. We’d worked together the last week or so, usually alongside Devon who complained how overwhelmed he was. I was working closely with the professor who was basically my idol, and he was mentoring me. I should be on cloud nine. Instead, I was floating somewhere next door to it on cloud horny instead.

Right around five, my email pinged, and I checked it. It was a message from Hamilton himself, asking to see me. I got to my feet so quickly I almost spilled my bottle of water by bumping the table. I flipped my phone camera to front-facing to check my hair. I went to his office and knocked.

“Come in,” he said.

God, there he was with his sleeves rolled up. His forearms alone should have their own porn channel, I swear. I’d subscribe so fast my debit card would melt down. I cleared my throat.

“You wanted to see me,” I said.

“Yes, I was interested in more details on the list you sent me, and I have some new information on the case that I’d like to discuss with you. Can you stay later than usual tonight?”

“Sure,” I said, thinking that was unusual because he was always out of the office by five thirty at the latest so he could spend the evening with his son. A fact that just made me admire him more.

“I’m going to order some Chinese. Are you vegan or anything?”

“Nope,” I said with a shrug. “I’m good with anything.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know when the food’s here if you have something to finish up.”

“Thanks. I’ll go grab my notebook, unless you want to work in the conference room?” I said, my voice going up in a question at the end, unsure what to do.

“In here’s fine,” he answered.

I went to the bathroom and checked my reflection, my bright eyes and flushed cheeks. I looked like I’d had too much wine or like I had a fever. It was insane that being asked to work late made me look so excited, showing every indication of arousal that I’d prefer to hide. I took the elastic off my wrist and pulled my hair up in a no-nonsense ponytail and wiped off my lip gloss. I was here to learn and work and help with this appeal. I was not here to feel butterflies in my stomach like I was going on a date with a guy I really liked

I grabbed my notebook and went to his office just in time to see him bring in two greasy brown paper bags of food that smelled amazing. My stomach gave a noisy growl right then and I giggled, a little embarrassed. “I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

“Good, I ordered half the menu, I think,” he said. “I’m not used to ordering a meal for two adults, so I had to guess. I’m going to assume you didn’t just want the kids' chicken finger meal with fries?” he said lightly. I smiled, instantly at ease.

“I never turn down a good chicken finger meal when it’s offered,” I said, helping him unpack the cartons of food.

My mouth watered over the garlicky noodles and the yummy rice and the vegetable dishes and chicken and beef. I took a paper plate he offered and started loading it, scooping with a plastic fork as I piled on rice and noodles and shrimp.

“You like red peppers?” he asked, indicating my plate. I grinned sheepishly.

“Yeah. I did kinda take all of them out of the shrimp dish. Want one?”

“You can have them. I’m going to—just a second, that’s my son calling.”

I nodded and stepped out of the office to give them privacy. I could hear him laughing through the door. I felt awkward, hanging out in the hallway during his phone call. I probably could have stayed in there. I wished I had brought my plate. I could be shoveling in hot and spicy Chinese food instead of listening to my stomach growl in the dim hall while I tried not to eavesdrop. I heard him say ‘bye’ louder than necessary and I took the hint. I knocked and reentered the office.

“You didn’t have to leave,” he said.

“It was personal. I just wanted to be respectful of that.”

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