Page 9 of Falling for Roxanne

Roxanne felt strong in my arms, her lush curves, her bold, defiant eyes and the desire in the parting of her lips. We were kissing. There was no decision about it, neither of us initiating it. It was as inevitable as a pair of magnets seeking each other, irresistible and right.

Our tongues mated, hands clutching at each other, trying to devour this thing between us that made it impossible to think of anything else. I was edgy and raw, frantic for her, and it was almost instantly that she hooked her leg around my hip. I grabbed her behind the knee and hitched her leg up, backed her into the wall. I was in her, balls deep, with one deep thrust.

We both moaned with relief as we fitted together the way nature intended. I felt like the world spun away or shattered apart in that moment as I drove into her, inevitable and merciless, desperate. As I pulled out of her for a final thrust, I reached between us and thumbed her clit. She started to wail and that was when I pierced her with my cock, penetrating her so fully that I felt every shudder and every squeeze as she gave in to her orgasm, straining to come around the fat cock stuffing her full. I shot out inside of her, long and hot, feeling dizzy, nearly staggering from the force of my climax. We both slid to the floor of the shower, spent and sated, Roxanne trembling in my arms, nipping at my shoulder as we came down from the draining force of our coupling.

My hand on my cock, pumping, not gentle or tentative, but punishing and swift, brought me to a quick and dirty orgasm to forbidden thoughts of my student, my intern. I wanted her so much my chest hurt, even after I found release. That release was inadequate, and I knew it, a poor substitute for her pussy clenching around my cock in helpless pleasure, a pale imitation of the fierce, blinding desire I felt for Roxanne. My cock was barely softer after I jerked off, because that itch was still there, in the back of my throat and the palms of my hands, enough to drive me mad. There was no relief.

CHAPTER 8

ROXANNE

Today was the day. I checked my eye makeup in the rearview mirror after I parked outside the Bell Law Firm. Why was I nervous? I’d defended cases in mock trial before an actual judge and won twice. I was not a timid person, and just because I respected Hamilton Bell’s career and he was my professor didn’t mean I had anything to worry about. So when my hands shook, my mouth went dry, I wondered why I was anxious.

All I had to do was close my eyes to know. I tried taking a long, slow breath to calm myself, but when I shut my eyes, I had a shiver of another sort, as I remembered the dream I’d had. Hamilton Bell tracing his fingers up my bare arm, fixing his mouth on my nipple and tonguing it, then sucking hard. His fingers teased me between my legs as I clenched helplessly, wanting him even as kept me right on the edge. He’d be like that, masterful and in control, but playful, sexy as hell.

My skin flushed at the memory of my dream. I shook it off, took a drink from my water bottle and fixed my eye makeup. I was being ridiculous. I got out of the car, straightened my pencil skirt and strode into the law firm like I belonged there. A pleasant woman named Sydney greeted me and showed me to a small office, a table and a couple of chairs, a laptop and printer on a standing desk in the corner by a double file cabinet. I put down my bag and had a seat.

“Mr. Bell will be a few minutes. He’s dropping off his son at school. Just wait here until he arrives to instruct you. Most of your work will be given by our paralegal, Devon, but since it’s your first day, I’m sure Mr. Bell will want to welcome you himself, give you the tour,” she said. “Can I get you anything while you wait?”

“No, thank you,” I replied.

When she left, I looked around the essentially empty room. He had a son. I immediately caught myself wondering if he was married. That would help, I thought, if he was double off-limits. That would actually make my life easier if I could quit considering it a possibility.

No matter how much Cathy teased me about office hookups and how I was clearly hot for my professor, I couldn’t bring myself to say she was wrong. If there was a man who could give me impure thoughts it was Hamilton Bell with his broad shoulders, his beautiful, serious mouth, his brilliance and confidence.

Now that I was in his inner sanctum, I couldn’t help letting my mind wander to how we could use this windowless little research room and its privacy. Oh, professor, I wish you’d fuck me… I thought. My body pulsed at the naughty words, at the naughtier thoughts behind it.

If he walked in right now, suit and tie and everything sophisticated and haughty, I’d grab him by the necktie. I’d wind that expensive silk fabric around my hand as I pulled him closer. He’d take control of the kiss. You only had to know him for about thirty seconds to know he’d always be in complete control.

‘So that’s what you’re waiting for?’ he’d say, pleased with himself, and bite my lip--

The door opened to the office and my eyes went wide. I almost clapped a hand over my mouth, color rushing to my face as I realized I’d been spinning a fantasy about my professor-slash-boss while I was waiting for him to arrive. I was blushing and confused despite the fact that I hadn't done anything wrong. I sat quietly, not disturbing anyone, hands folded as primly as could be. If my thoughts were less virtuous, that was a problem only I knew about.

I rose to greet him, clearing my throat. “Good morning, Mr. Bell,” I said.

“Good morning, Roxanne. You’re supposed to call me by my name, remember?”

“Hamilton,” I said evenly.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. It’s Colin’s leader day, so I had to carry his snack in. He’s strong for a little kid, but a package of 25 juice boxes was too much for him to do alone,” he said.

Oh my Lord. My panties were going to melt. I already fought against this attraction to my professor, and now he was talking about being a dad. He was so damn cute when he mentioned juice boxes. I glanced down as he seated himself across the table from me and opened his briefcase. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

Either he was a single dad, or he was one of those men who didn’t wear a wedding ring. Although he had cufflinks on his shirt, and he wore a smart watch. So he wasn’t jewelry-averse, apparently.

His collar was open. I glimpsed the strong column of his tanned throat, and Jesus help me. It was a good thing I was sitting down because my knees might have given out right then. Just the sliver of exposed skin at the hollow of his neck was enough to distract me.

“I hope he has a good leader day. I always brought those Fudge Rounds, the Little Debbie ones, when it was my snack day. Those were so good. Except I had one a few years ago, just for old times’ sake—and they taste kind of like glue. I guess it’s a kid thing,” I said.

“They can’t bring junk food,” he said wryly. “We had to bring whole grain crackers and real fruit juice. If I’d let him pick, they’d be having cotton candy.” He grinned and I returned the smile.

“Cotton candy is good,” I said. “I bet the kids would be thrilled. I haven’t had cotton candy in probably ten or fifteen years.”

“I had some yesterday,” he said a little proudly. “I finished off Colin’s. Anyway, you’re not here to listen to me get carried away talking about his kid. I apologize,” he said.

“There’s no need. He sounds adorable. Besides, this is my first formal internship. I don’t know what to expect.”

“Paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork,” he said ruefully, “although you know how much paperwork is involved in legal practice by now, I’m sure.”

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