Page 13 of The Professor's Indecent Obsession

I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. Of course she does.

Her head tilts up. “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything yet. I mean, I don’t even know if it’ll work out, but… he really seemed to believe in it.”

“That’s incredible, Callie,” I say, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

She nods, the smile on her face blooming like morning light. “I sent it out to a few agents a couple of months ago, just on a whim. He got back to me almost immediately. Said it’s the most exciting debut he’s read in years.”

A beat of silence stretches between us as I keep my expression soft, open. I stroke slow lines down her spine, and she melts even further against me, totally unaware of the tension beginning to twist low in my gut.

She heard back from him almost immediately?

“I’ve got a meeting with him tonight, actually,” she adds. “He made a reservation at Ardelle’s. You know, that super fancy place downtown?”

I nod, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Sounds like he’s serious.”

“He is. He said he’s pretty confident he can land me a deal with one of the Big Five.”

My jaw flexes before I can stop it. Something about all of this feels off.

Her manuscript is stunning. There’s no question about it. But I’ve been in this industry too long to ignore the details. Manuscripts don’t usually get picked up within days. Weeks, maybe. More often, months. And even then, this kind of confidence? From a real agent? They know better than to make promises they can’t keep, no matter how good a manuscript is.

“Hey,” I murmur, playing it off like an afterthought, “what’s his name?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Gideon Marks.”

I nod slowly, lips brushing her temple. “Nice.”

But I’ve never heard that name in my life, and I’ve heard of all the agents worth working with.

I don’t say it out loud. Not yet. She’s glowing. Hopeful. So fucking happy. And I won’t be the one to dim that. Not unless I have to.

But I’ll be looking him up later. And if I find out this man turns out to be anything less than what she deserves, I’ll make sure he regrets ever reaching out to my girl.

She sighs against my chest, like she could stay there forever. God, I want her to. I want to lock the door and keep her in this bed for days. To feed her, touch her, make her smile, make her whimper, make her forget the rest of the world even exists.

But then she shifts slightly, stretching with a sleepy groan, and murmurs, “I’ve got to get ready. I’ve got an early lecture.”

I stiffen. Just for a second. Then I bury my face in her hair, dragging in the scent of her like I can breathe it into my bloodstream. “No,” I mumble. “Don’t go.”

She laughs, and the sound is sweet, breathless, a little apologetic. “I have to...”

But before she can say anything else, I flip her onto her back and kiss her like I’m starving.

Because I am.

Because I know I won’t be able to touch her again for hours and it physically hurts to imagine being apart from her for that long.

She gasps, then melts. Her fingers dive into my hair, her lips part beneath mine, and she’s kissing me back like she feels the same desperate ache. Like leaving this bed is just as hard for her as it is for me.

I slow it down only when I feel her heart pounding against my chest. I rest my forehead to hers, breathing her in. “I’m going to miss you today.”

Her eyes soften. “I’ll miss you too.”

“I want you back here tonight,” I say, my voice quiet but firm. “After your meeting. Come straight here.”

She smiles, so bright it punches the air from my lungs. “I can’t wait.”

She slides out of bed, naked and flushed, with marks I left scattered over her skin last night. She looks like mine.

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