Page 4 of Prosecco with My Professor
“Okay, Mama Bear,” the gray-streak woman interrupts.
“It’s okay,” I say. “We will take an Uber.” I would take a taxi if I was by myself—well, actually, I would walk, but in the name of efficiency, a car would be best—but I want Emma’s friends to know she’s safe, and Uber gives them the ability to track the ride.
“That she’ll order and let us track,” she answers primly.
Exactly what I had in mind. “Yes, signora. I will take excellent care of her.”
That mollifies the protective one. Emma tugs me away when the other whistles, blowing them a kiss as we walk toward the exit and calling goodbye.
Out on the street, Emma covers her hand with her face. “Oh my god,” she mumbles.
“What?” I ask, bending down to see her better, but I’m pretty sure she’s laughing.
“Is it always this embarrassing?”
I gently tug one wrist, and she drops it. I keep my grip on it and use it to pull her closer. Those rosy pink cheeks haven’t faded at all. “What is embarrassing about it?” I ask, but don’t let her answer. “It’s life,” I say with a shrug and grab her other hand too. “It’s agoodlife.”
“Good, huh?” she says. We’re closer now, the September night air between us is almost chilly. She bites her lip, gazing at me.
I wrap my arms around her, taking her hands with me behind her back. Her chest presses against mine, her breath hitting my lips and her eyes widening. Our noses touch, just a small nudge at first before I purposefully drag the tip of mine across hers. Her eyelashes flutter, the smell of wine and sweet botanicals wrapping around us.
I close the last millimeter, brushing my lips against her bottom one, just a tiny drag of soft skin against soft skin. I nip, and it startles her.
Her lips part, and I go in for a full kiss, my lips easing hers open and my arms pulling her harder against me. Emma lets me keep the lead, but she responds eagerly, with a sweet little moan in the back of her throat as I barely dip my tongue in.
I pull back before we get too heated. “Emma, call the Uber.” I give her my address while she orders the car, and then I cup her head with my hands, fusing our mouths together again. These kisses are hotter, more insistent, and Emma kisses back with more confidence.
A car honks, and I ease back, releasing my grip and steadying her when she sways slightly. I open the door to our ride and guide her in, following right behind.
To my relief, Emma doesn’t scoot all the way over. When the door slams behind me, I pull her toward me and cover my mouth with hers again. She grips the lapels of my jacket, keeping me close, as if afraid that I’ll pull away.
What would be a long, cobble-stoned walk down dark streets is a brief car ride. We get out at our destination, and I thank the driver.
When I turn back to Emma, she’s laughing to herself.
“What?” I ask.
She presses her hands to her cheeks. “I haven’t really done that before.” At my look, she laughs again. “Making out in front of a stranger, I mean.”
“Did youlikeit?” How much did she like it?
She tilts her head as I usher her through the vestibule and into the lobby. “Are you asking if I am an exhibitionist?”
I press her up against the wall of the lobby and kiss her, this time deep with more tongue. When she’s thoroughly disheveled, I trace light kisses up the side of her face. “I just want to know what you like,” I whisper in her ear.
“You,” she says back, shyly.
Fuck, that’s hot. I grunt and thrust my hips against her, watching as her eyelids flutter in arousal. Pushing off from the wall, I lead her up the stairs and into my apartment. My cat, Zola, has been acting out lately, the boxes and luggage clueing her into the impending move. I brace myself walking in and hope that she hasn’t made her displeasure known again with a mess, but everything looks in order and, most importantly, smells good.
Emma will be the last woman to come back to this apartment that I’ve lived in for six years. I’m downgrading again. My previous home was more befitting a CFO’s salary. This one was better on a professor’s salary but still enormous. The new apartment will be better suited to a lone professor and his cat.
The entryway is small, and Emma looks around. When she turns her attention back to me, her back is against the wall. She’s still flushed, lips kiss-swollen.
My eyes travel down her body. Full breasts, soft belly, generous hips and thighs, all wrapped in a subdued purple dress that ends at the knee. It’s a modest outfit but curve-hugging.
And also provides easy access.
I let my finger trace the same path my eyes took. She sucks in a little when I pass her stomach, but I ignore that. I’ll prove to her how sexy her body is.
