Page 16 of The Biker and the Professor
Cookie’s throaty laugh follows me out the door. “I most certainly will.”
Chapter 7
Toni
Later that night,I’m emerging from a long and hot bath when I hear the doorbell chime.
A quick glance at the clock on my nightstand tells me it’s 11:06 PM.
My heart skips a hopeful, yet apprehensive beat. Nero?Please let it be him.
With quick movements, I grab a robe and tighten the strings around my waist, then towel-dry my wet hair the best I can in as little time as possible before darting downstairs.
I don’t have to check the peephole. It’s him. I know it. I can feel it. Can feelhim.
When I swing the door open, my heart sighs. He’s so freaking hot, and sexy, and sinful. In his usual jeans, a plain T-shirt and biker vest, blond hair pulled back in a bun. His smoldering gaze roves me up and down before settling on my face.
Eyebrow arched, he holds up an assignment folder.
“I see you got my message,” I say, voice scratchy.
“Loud and clear.”
He proffers the assignment folder, but I don’t take it. I want him inside. Not just in my house, but insideme.Screw it, this is happening. There’s no use fighting the truth anymore.
Moving aside, I motion in the direction of the living room. “You can set it down on the coffee table.”
There’s that barely-there smile of his again.
As he brushes past me and into the house, I close the door behind him and press back against it for a few seconds to calm my nerves, my raging hormones. My nipples are tight and hard and all he’s done is graze me.
Damn near trembling with lust and apprehension, I amble behind him to the living room. In my mind, I like to think I’m a sex kitten, but in reality, I’ve only ever been with two men, and those are my high school boyfriend and my ex-husband. And something tells me I’m out of my league with this one.
“I have another assignment for you,” I say with bravado as I watch him slap the folder down on the coffee table.
He shrugs out of his biker vest and glances back at me over his shoulder with a raised brow. I feel chastened. Why doIalways feel like the junior when I’m around him?
I move to the opposite side of the coffee table so we’re facing each other. “I want you…to kiss me.”
He watches me for several heartbeats, then releases an ephemeral chuckle. “You’re so cute when you think you’re in control.”
Yep. Soooo out of my league.
He points behind me to the eight-seater dining table adjacent to the breakfast bar. “Get over there. Sit on the table.”
Accepting that I’m not the one in control here, I don’t balk or give sass, I obey. I pad to the dining area, feeling him stalk me with each step, and hoist myself up on the table.
Chest heaving with eager anticipation for whatever he plans to do to me, I watch him with hungry eyes as he scoots out a chair and sits down in front of me.
“Spread your legs,” he orders.
I don’t hesitate. I want him so, so badly it feels like I’m dying.
With just a tug, he undoes the strings of my robe. It falls open, exposing my nakedness. “Beautiful.”
The exhale that leaves me is loud and heavy with lust. Dying for him to touch me, I undulate my hips.
But he doesn’t. He drinks me in with lidded eyes, captivated by my nakedness.
