Forbidden Heat

“What about men?”

His gaze sharpened. “What about them?”

“Have you dated a man long enough to call him a boyfriend? Besides Jake, I mean.”

She didn’t know if she’d overstepped the bounds of their relationship by asking this question, but after all, he’d just fucked her silly. Surely she was entitled to a personal question or two.

He took a bite of his lasagna and chewed, gazing at her long enough that she thought he wouldn’t answer.

“No,” he said finally. He sipped his wine, then set the glass down carefully. “I haven’t been with a man since Jake. Just women.”

“Is it because you haven’t been attracted to anyone else?”

He grabbed the crusty loaf of Italian bread and tore a hunk off, his lips a tight straight line. “This is a little off topic.”

“I just wonder if maybe you’re—”

He jabbed his knife into the butter and slathered it across the white fluffy bread in quick short strokes. “Dani, I don’t want to talk about this. We need to figure out our story—how we met, how long we’ve been dating, et cetera.”

“Okay. Well, we met at the university. I already told her that on the phone. We could keep it simple and stay as close to the truth as possible. We met again at Harmony’s wedding and started our relationship then.”

“But that’s only a few weeks. They won’t think that’s serious.”

“I’m the first woman you’ve introduced to them.” She smiled. “They’ll believe we’re serious.”

Danielle pulled up to the university and parked in the lot by the small lake, then walked toward the philosophy building. She’d offered to come to town a day early and help Trey prepare for his sisters’ visit, and he’d jumped at the idea. He’d suggested she bring some personal items to leave around the house, but she wasn’t quite sure what. She’d never even left a toothbrush at a man’s place before. Not even now that she was visiting Trey and Jake every weekend. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if she actually left a few spare toiletries at his house so she didn’t have to keep carrying them back and forth.

Finally, she’d decided they should take a picture of the two of them, print it up, and put it in a frame. That should be pretty convincing. She arrived early so they could meet up with Jake and have him snap the picture for them. Something in daylight at the university so it didn’t look like they’d just taken it.

It was also a great excuse to visit Jake before she went over to Trey’s. She didn’t know if she’d see him much over the next week, and she missed him.

She strolled along the path across campus to the philosophy building, walked up the stairs to the second floor, then turned right. She stepped into a quieter corridor, leaving the classrooms behind. Offices with professors’ names on the doors lined the hallway. She approached the last office. PROFESSOR J. JAMIESON. As she was about to knock on the door, it opened and a young woman in tight jeans and a form-fitting sweater stepped out. She glanced at Danielle, then continued down the hall.

Danielle peered inside. “Professor Jamieson?”

Jake glanced up, then grinned. “Yes, Miss Rayne? What can I do for you?”

With an opening like that, how could she resist? She closed the door behind her and flicked the lock.

“Well, Professor, I haven’t been doing very well in your class and I was wondering if there was anything I could do to”—she smiled demurely—“you know . . . improve my marks.”

His face shifted to a serious expression. “Like a bonus assignment? I could probably work up something that you could turn in next week.”

“I was thinking maybe something I could do right now.” She stepped toward him with a sway to her hips.

“Oh?” His eyebrows arched upward. “And exactly what do you have in mind, Miss Rayne?”

She unfastened the top button of her blouse . . . then the next . . . then the next . . . then drew the fabric aside to reveal her lace-covered breasts.

“It depends on what you like.” She walked around his desk and leaned against it, facing him. She dipped her fingers under the lace cups and toyed with her nipples until they jutted forward, then tucked the lace below her breasts, leaving them bare.

She placed one hand on his denim-clad thigh and glided upward, stopping short of the bulge forming in his pants.

“I could do something for you.” She stroked over his bulge, then tugged his zipper down and slid her hand inside his pants. His long, hard cock, still covered by the thin cotton of his briefs, pulsed under her fingertips. She slipped her hand inside his briefs and encircled his hot, hard flesh. She knelt in front of him as she freed his erection.

“Oh, Dr. Jamieson. Your cock is enormous.”

She leaned down and lapped at the tip like an ice-cream cone, laving over the cockhead, then swirling her tongue under the ridge.