“I’m definitely not under oath,” I replied.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Fine.” I held up a hand like I was giving a sworn testimony. “The sex was very good. It was sudden and spontaneous, like when you took me in my office the first time. And regarding size… you’re slightly bigger.”
Now he finally smiled. “Then no, I’m not jealous.”
I groaned. “Is that really all men care about? Whose dick is bigger?”
“We’re simple creatures,” Jace said. “Besides, after what we talked about earlier tonight, I was already fantasizing about having a threesome with you. The chances of that just went way up.”
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t even consider that.”
“He might not be into it,” Jace said casually. “And in order to find out, you’d have to tell him thatweare sleeping together, which you may not want to do.”
“Actually… I already told him. Tonight, after we’d had sex. I don’t like keeping secrets!”
“Says the professor sleeping with two of her students.”
I playfully slapped him with a couch pillow. “You know what I mean. When I sleep with a man, I trust them. I don’t like keeping information from them.”
Jace slid his palm against my cheek and caressed it with his thumb. “That’s really nice to hear. I feel the same way.”
He kissed me, and suddenly everything felt right in the world again.
“We don’t need to force anything,” Jace said, settling back into the couch. “Now that the three of us know everything, we can see what happens. Feel him out about it. Honestly, he probably won’t be interested. Most guys are really weird about having a threesome with another dude.”
“But not you?”
“Hell no,” he reiterated. “Like I said: I don’t see toys or other guys in bed as competition. I see them as allies.”
I snuggled up against his chest and sighed. “This is why I would never date ayoungstudent. Older men are more mature about these kinds of things.”
“I don’t like being called anolder man,” he protested.
“Older men, relative to the eighteen-year-olds in class,” I quickly said.
He leaned over and kissed my hair. “That’s better. Although it’s kind of hilarious that you have a thing for your students.”
“Just two of them!” I argued. “You and Brock are different than the rest.”
“Suuuure,” he said. “I don’t know how many you slept with last semester.”
“Zero!”
“I’m sure there’s a criminology term for not being able to trust a witness who has been known to break the rules before,” he teased.
“I’m definitely giving you an F on your next exam,” I muttered.
“If you do,” he warned, “I’ll make you pay for it. In the bedroom.”
“Ohh, now I’m incentivized to fail you.”
We laughed and snuggled up together again, but the playful banter about grades was a reminder that I had to be careful to keep our personal and academic relationships separate.
28
Lila
