Olly’s meaning sinks in, and my stomach clenches at the image that assaults me—Olly on his knees, Professor Gibson’s head thrown back.
Instantly, I’m back on my bed, a purple toy sliding between my thighs and Olly’s name on my tongue.
I ignore that train of thought and look at the professor.
He’s tall and thin, black hair neatly trimmed around his ears, unlike Olly’s wild locks. Glasses frame his face, giving him an older, wiser presence, but he only looks to be in his midthirties.
He’s cute.
A new kind of curiosity surges through me. If the professor really thought romance was a form of sexual liberation, maybe he would be willing to help liberate me…
“I will,” I say, surprised at the confidence in my tone.
“You will what?”
“I will… try.”
It takes Olly a moment to process what I’ve said, then his eyes narrow. “No.” Olly shakes his head, his expression stoic. “You can’t fuck your professor.”
“Says who?”
“It’s against the rules or something.”
I gape at him. “You were planning on doing it yourself two minutes ago.”
Olly’s lips are thin, jaw clenched. Irritation radiates from him, contradicting the carefree ambivalence he usually exudes. “Fine. No one fucks the professor.”
I grip the armrest of my chair, the plastic rough on my hand. “Not fine.”
“You told me to take what I want.” My tone is harsh, irritation flaring beneath. Giselle needs a manuscript, and Ineed… to not want to spend my time waiting for my phone to ring in case it’s a video call from my best friend.
“I was talking about a fucking gummy bear.” He looks at the professor and scowls, swearing under his breath.
“What’s wrong with you this morning?” I snap.
His jaw works from side to side, his fists white-knuckled on the desk as he looks off to the side of the room.
Minutes pass before he lets out a sigh. He taps his knee against mine. “Wrong side of the bed. Forgive me?”
Warmth thrums along my outer thigh where we touch and soaks into my skin. I ignore it. “Okay.”
His knuckles brush mine.
Instinctively, I flex my fingers, and he slips his between, sliding back and forth in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm.
“Is he what you want?” Olly’s attention is on our joined fingers.
“He’s what I need.” My eyes drop to Olly’s mouth and quickly dart away before he catches me staring. “You were right. Writing about sex isn’t enough anymore. I can get some experience and a plotline at the same time.”
If I can actually seduce my professor.
I huff out a quick laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but Olly doesn’t smile.
Disappointment sits heavy in my chest as the lecture ends and we walk out of the building and into the midday sun. I don’t expect him to throw confetti and make a huge deal, but I haven’t had sex in forever, so this was kind of a huge deal.
“You don’t think I can do this, do you?”
It’s obvious by his reaction that he thinks I’ll make a fool of myself. He’s right. I’m too inexperienced, too shy. Of course I can’t seduce my professor.What am I thinking?
