“Good. Well, you should probably get going then,” I say, shoving my hands into the pockets of my pants, discreetly adjusting my aching dick to make my erection not so obvious.
I know I’m coming across harsh, but that shouldnothave happened.
She nods slowly, not taking her eyes off the ground. “Goodbye Professor,” she says quietly, before disappearing out of the room as fast as she can, slamming the door behind her.
Professor. Never has hearing that title hurt as much as it does now.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, and my heart aches. I’ve hurt her, and it guts me.
Fuck, what the hell was I thinking?
I move back to my desk and sit down, my foot tapping anxiously on the floor.
What the hell am I going to do?
My control is hanging by a threat, one more wrong move and it’ll snap. I can’t allow that to happen.
I need to forget about her, push her the hell out of my mind before this gets out of hand. Well, that’s what I should do, but after a kiss like that, it’s not something I’m going to be able to forget that in a hurry.
I sit at my desk for what feels like eternity, going over and over it in my head, about how good it felt to kiss her, how all of my pain and worries seemed to fade away the second her lips met mine and her hand reaches up to cup my face.
For the first time in three years I let my guard down, I let someone into my heart, and I already fucked it up. But it wasn't the fact that I kissed her that scared me. I've kissed a couple of women in the past few years, but what scared me was that kissing Quinn felt good. Unlike the others, it didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel as though I was cheating on Grace, that by kissing someone else I was disgracing her memory in some way.
Kissing Quinn was like all the air had returned to my lungs after being deprived of it for so long. It felt like my very first kiss when I was sixteen all over again, the same amount of nerves and excitement, the same feeling of butterflies in the pit of my stomach.
Kissing Quinn was like touching the heavens, and because of that, I am completely fucked.
Chapter 16
Quinn
“Another vodka, please,” I shout over the thumping music that fills the bar, and after a few minutes, the bartender returns with my drink. He can’t be much older than me, four years at most. He’s cute, like a typical high-school jock cute.
I throw my head back and down the entire glass in one go, tossing it back down on the bar next to the other empty glasses in front of me.
“Another, please,” I say.
“I think you’ve had enough, sweetheart,” the bartender tells me, leaning over the bar so that I can hear him over the music.
“You’re no fun,” I say with a pout. “Please, just one more. I feel fine, honest.” I draw an invisible cross over my heart with my finger and smile at him sweetly, and after a few moments, he gives in with an eye roll, handing me another drink.
“Go easy with that one, okay?”
I give him a mock salute and he turns away, shaking his head, a smile painted across his lips.
Coming here wasn’t what I’d call planned, but I had to get out of my apartment. Living alone with nothing other than your own thoughts for company is a very bad idea, but of course, my theory didn’t work out, because every trail of thought leads me back tohim.
Dwight.
I kissed him. I fucking kissed my professor.
I feel so stupid.
So pathetic.
I feel like a cheap slut who threw herself at the first man who’d shown her any interest.
As much as I’ve tried not to, I’ve relived every single detail over and over, how it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, being sandwiched between the door and his hard body. I remember how he kissed me back, the rush of heat that spread through my body at the feeling of his lips against mine.
