Stop staring at his mouth.
She took a breath and licked her lips. “I have to go to class.”
“I know. The Psychology of Sexual Behavior: Sexual Identity and Gender Roles, right? Not a catchy title, but it sounds like my kind of party.”
She glared at him, forcing herself not to let his piercing green eyes distract her. “How did get your hands on my course schedule?”
“Honey, I’m a private investigator. I have ways.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Why are you doing this?”
“Would you believe I’m interested in bettering myself through higher education?”
“No.”
“How about I still think you need looking after?”
She snorted. “That would be easier to buy if you didn’t…”
“If I didn’t what?” His voice always had that sexy rasp that made her think of tangled sheets and talented tongues. “Look after you?”
In bed, his expression added, making her squirm.
“I could call my brother and have him use another chip to call you off.” The threat was a weak one, and this wasn’t the first time she’d made it. She could have called Stephen weeks ago. She could have told his wife Tasha, or let her roommate in on the fact that the guy she’d seen following Jen around wasn’t technically her bodyguard.
His grin said he knew. “You could try.”
But you won’t.
Why not? What the hell was wrong with her?
You like it. You want him to come back to your room and finish what he started.
Turning away from him, she started toward the building where the lecture hall was located. “I’ll call him unless you follow my conditions.”
“Conditions? You have conditions? Now I have to hear them.”
“I’ve been looking forward to hearing this professor lecture. He’s a highly sought-after speaker, he literally wrote the textbook on this subject and I’m actually taking his class to learn.”
“Professor Declan Kelley,” Trick murmured, keeping pace beside her. “I know. You mentioned something about conditions?”
“Don’t come in with me, sit next to me or do anything to get either of us kicked out.”
He put his hand over his heart. “I’ll be a ghost.”
She sent a glance to his bright, wrinkled shirt, sleep-mussed hair and bedroom eyes. Fat chance. “And you’re going to tell me why you keep following me. The truth.”
He held open the outer door for her. “You can’t tack on a condition after I’ve already agreed to your terms. Go. I’ll be right behind you.”
His gaze was like a hand caressing her back as she strode through the crowd of students whose clothing and hairstyles made her feel old. Had it only been four years since she’d gotten her bachelor’s? So much had happened since then—a long-overdue broken engagement, a tattoo, a few months of experimenting with kink. She smiled ruefully. Now she was back where she started, working on her MSW and being the good, well-behaved Little Finn that her overprotective family expected.
No wonder she couldn’t resist her sexy shadow.
She followed a group of people already heading into the lecture hall, stopping when a skinny boy dressed in black bumped into her and dropped his textbook and a handful of band flyers on the floor at her feet.
“Sorry.”
Jen instantly dropped to her knees and started helping to gather up the loose paper with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Happens to me all the time.”
When her ponytail slid over her shoulder, the boy whistled. “Nice ink. What is that supposed to be?”
She leaned back on her heels and handed him his flyers. “A triskelion.” At his look of confusion, she laughed. “It’s an Irish thing.” And a kink thing, but only certain people would know that.
“Cool.” He pushed his dyed black hair out of his puppy dog eyes. “I’m Ira.”
I’m too old for you, buddy. Stop talking to my breasts. “Jennifer Finn. Can I tell you something, Ira?”
“What?”
She leaned closer conspiratorially. “The blonde girl in the front row has been looking at you this whole time.”
She’d only glanced over twice, but Jen wasn’t quibbling over details. Noticing things like that was how she made the best tips at Finn’s.
“Carrie Giles?”
She was good. Ira already knew her name. “I’d go sit next to Carrie if I were you.”
“You think?”
“I’m a woman, Ira. I know these things.”
He leapt up and walked away from her so fast she was almost insulted. “You’re welcome.”
People were walking around her to climb the stairs and find the best seating. With her luck she’d be stuck here on the floor for the duration. She adjusted her backpack and started to get to her feet.
A masculine hand appeared in front of her and a deep, attractive voice said, “Let me help you, Miss Finn.”
She took the hand, looking up with a grateful expression and a “Thank you” forming on her lips. It froze in her throat, her mouth hanging open as she looked up at the lumberjack and part-time underwear model whose touch was making her hand tingle.