My fingers twist together as I wring my hands and stare at Stefan’s door. I haven’t seen him in over a day, and I’ve had too much time to think.
Too much time to overthink.
On top of that, I’m meeting Hank for dinner tonight to do some further research. Questions and confusion are riddling my brain.
How is this all happening so fast? How is he interested in me? I mean, God. How am I interested in him? Am I about to ruin my life over a guy? Are we exclusive now? After years of having my nose stuck in a textbook and then throwing myself into a career, sex has always been just sex. I now know that I never experienced a true intimate connection when I fell into bed with a guy just because I felt like that was something I should be doing. Especially now that I realize what I’ve been missing.
And now Stefan Dalca has orgasmed me into confusion. Confusion about what we are, where we’re going, and what this all means. Because it feels like it means more than just sex.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, grateful for the distraction. Until I see that it’s Stefan texting me.
STEFAN
You planning on coming in? Or are you just going to stand out there and rub your hands raw?
I look around, trying to see if he’s watching me out a window or something. When I see nothing, I text back, figuring he has some sort of security camera app on his phone.
MIRA
You’re creepy.
STEFAN
Part of my charm. You love it.
Anxiety coils in my gut at the mention of the L word. The only thing I’ve loved in recent memory is my job. And my girlfriends at the ranch. Maybe the odd horse. Loving something is a distraction, a time commitment, a risk. And I’m not a big risk taker—especially not when everything I’ve worked my ass off for is in jeopardy. My career, my independence, my sanity.
I take a deep, centering breath and text back.
MIRA
I’m coming in.
STEFAN
Door’s open. I’m in my office. Take a right at the kitchen.
With a small shake of my head, I twist the knob and step into the impressive house. I kick my boots off and walk back toward Stefan’s office that I peeked at last time I was over. My mouth goes dry when I enter his space.
He’s leaned back in his chair, one foot casually slung over his knee as he looks through the contents of a brown folder with a wall full of books behind him. He’s sexy wearing a simple white dress shirt with cuff links that glint in the light, the veins in his hands bulging in the most mouth-watering way. I sometimes get lost staring at his hands when he’s fucking me, the way they flex when he grips the sheets and drives into me harder. I never knew such a generic part of a man’s body could be so distracting.
I hear a low rumble, a chuckle, and my eyes snap up to his face. Which is honestly no less hot. He studies me with head quirked and his fingers in a loose fist pressed against his soft lips. And he’s wearing those fucking glasses. Like he knows the whole hot professor thing has been an ongoing fantasy for me.
I’m instantly wet. I’m thoroughly ruined. I should tell him it’s been nice knowing him and get the hell out of here before I spontaneously combust like the sex-crazed maniac I’ve become.
“What’s going through that beautiful head of yours right now, Mira?”
“I haven’t heard from you in almost two days.”
“I had meetings at the track today. Was there something you needed me for?” One side of his mouth tips up knowingly. Fucker.
“No.”
I engage him in some sort of staring contest. I refuse to drop his gaze, but it’s doing funny things to my insides standing here, staring at him in the quiet office. Especially when he looks like that.
“Okay. So, you’re here because?”
“Are you serious?” I hiss at him, stepping close enough that my thighs butt up against the wide oak desk. “You fucked my brains out. Like I am literally brainless now. You told me my hands belong in yours for crying out loud. I can’t stop thinking about it. And about you. And it’s all driving me crazy. What am I supposed to do now? I haven’t heard from you at all. And I just need to know what this is so I can organize my life accordingly. And that’s what I came here to ask you, but you’re sitting there looking like Professor Pornstar.”
Stefan’s face slowly transforms from amused to serious, his gaze turning heated toward the end of my rant.
“You’ve made it abundantly clear you don’t want a clingy man-child in your life. Which is perfect because I don’t want to be that. I love how fiercely independent you are. You were working these past two days, and so was I. I fully intended to call you when I finished what I was doing here.”
I sniff, feeling foolish and realizing he’s right. I have said that. I do want that kind of relationship. Did want.
But he ruined my brain. And now I’m obsessed.
“Well.” I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to go radio silent. Especially after everything that happened over the weekend. How am I supposed to discern what that means? How am I supposed to know you’re not off dating other women?” I sigh and stare up at the ceiling, hating how completely inexperienced I sound. “This is fucking annoying. You’ve put a curse on me. You’re all I think about.”
He laughs and leans forward, elbows propped on the edge of his desk. “Mira.”
I press my lips together not wanting to look at him. But the silence stretches between us, he’s waiting for eye contact. I give in, dropping my gaze to his. He’s back to looking amused. Which honestly kind of pisses me off.
“What?”
“When? When on earth am I supposed to see all these other women? I’ve spent almost every free moment I have for the last several weeks with you.”
I blink at him.
“I sleep. I work. I workout. I run the farm. I obsessively check on Loki. I try to keep my sister on the straight and narrow. And then I either spend my free time with you or thinking about you. You’ve put a spell on me. You’re all I think about.”
My heart lurches in my chest.
“I… I didn’t think of it like that. Everything just feels so uncertain.”
His grin turns wicked. Knowing.
“That’s because I fucked your brains out.”
I clench, not fully understanding why hearing him talk this way does it to me. The dirty words drive me crazy. The way he switches from all proper and business-like to scorching hot and foul-mouthed. It’s the dichotomy that gets me off. He pulls it off so well.
He stands and tugs open the top button of his shirt before turning his attention to the cufflinks at his wrists. He rotates them slowly, his calloused fingers moving so deftly, it’s almost distracting. The plunk of the metal as he sets each one on the desk top sounds loud in the otherwise quiet office.
The silence stretches between us before he says, “And now I’m going to pull those tight jeans down and fuck the uncertainty right out of you.”
A small gasp erupts from my lips, and my heart rate crescendos as he ambles around the desk.
“You look pleased. I thought I wasn’t your type.”
I roll my eyes. “Men who gloat aren’t.”
Amusement rumbles in his chest as he rolls up his sleeves like he’s about to get to work. “But are you bored?”
I wish he’d stop rubbing that in my face. He knows damn well I’m not bored. I’m not sure how any woman in the world’s history could be bored with Stefan Dalca. Or how any of them had him and then let him go.
“Do you fantasize about your professor, Mira?”
My head snaps up as he adjusts the glasses on his face. Fuck. Looking that good should not be allowed. The forearms. The dress shirt. The glasses. Just… fuck.
My eyes widen as he draws closer. “My professor?”
“Yes.” He comes toe-to-toe with me, forcing me to look up at him. This conversation doesn’t make him the least bit uncomfortable, but I’m glowing pink. “You brought that up like it’s something you’ve thought about before. Did you? While you were still in school? Do you now?”
What the hell? Was he taught to be some sort of psychic in Romania?
“It—” I roll my shoulders back. I will not be ashamed of this ongoing fantasy of mine. I refuse. I dig the dynamic, so what? “It is. So yes, I have.”
The smile that takes over his face is far too greedy. A smarter woman would run with a man looking at her like this, but all it does is make my stomach drop and my heart race. I realize I trust Stefan. With my heart and with my body. So instead of running, I bite down on my bottom lip and hit him with my best wide-eyed look.
He picks up on the change instantly.
Hand darting behind me to grip my ponytail, he asks, “Care to tell me why you came to my office today, Miss Thorne?” He leans close, voice vibrating across the sensitive spot below my ear. “Are you concerned about your most recent grade?”
A small part of me wants to laugh. This is so unlike me. So out of character, it feels almost silly. But when he tugs at my ponytail, forcing my head up further, I catch sight of his glowing green eyes. All traces of humor melt away. I’m not good at dirty talk, but I love listening to his. So here goes nothing.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Do you have any suggestions for how you’d like to make it up to me?”
I pant as his lips slide down the side of my neck and across my chest, the cool plastic corner of his glasses scraping against my throat.
“I was hoping you could tell me what it would take.”
“Dangerous choice, Miss Thorne.”
The change is subtle, but he’s not calling me Dr. Thorne right now. I love his intelligence. Even during sex, Stefan is thinking. In one swift motion, he turns me toward the desk and bends me over it, my ponytail still wrapped around his hand.
He gently presses my cheek against the cool surface as his free hand roams the center of my back, all the way down so he can grab a handful of my ass. “How hard are you willing to work?”
“As hard as you want me to.” My fingertips slide over the polished desktop as I try to get some purchase. I feel like I’m free falling. Completely out of control. Completely out of my element.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” His body looms over mine as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of my neck. “Now stay right where you are. If you move, there won’t be any extra credit.”
All I can muster is a whimper as I feel the heat of his torso leave my back. His hands glide down my sides, savoring every curve with reverence I’ve never felt before. When he reaches my hips, his arms encircle me while his hands do away with the button and zipper at the front of my jeans. He drags my skin-tight jeans down, savoring every rasp of fabric and inch of exposed skin. He unwraps me like a present he’s always wanted and will never forget. He uses one dress shoe clad foot to nudge my feet into a wider stance, and then my panties are slid down, stretched between my thighs while I’m bent over and bared to him.
“You were made for me.”
The statement is like an anvil to my chest. It feels an awful lot like that’s true. Like we were made for each other.
I peer over my shoulder at him. The air between us is thick. I can feel it, the way it vibrates, the way it heats as his eyes scour my body. Bright and sparking with…
Love?
“I need to get a condom. I’ll be back. Don’t move.”
I swallow audibly and nod, body humming with anticipation.
He leaves, and I do as he asked. I feel myself getting wetter and more worked up with each passing second I wait for him. The longer he’s gone, the more I want him. When he returns, his control has frayed beyond being patient. The jangle of his belt blends into the rip of the condom wrapper.
He steps up behind my bare ass and drags himself between my cheeks. “Next time you need to fix an assignment, I’m going to take you here.”
My body trembles with need. I’m at the point where I don’t care where he takes me. I just want him inside me.
Now.
“Okay,” I murmur, looking over my shoulder again as he notches himself at my slippery entrance.
We lock eyes for only a moment, and I feel like the look we share says it all. It answers every question I’ve been wrestling with for the past forty-eight hours. A promise is made in that look, and then he impales me with one rough thrust and sends me reeling. His hands grip my hips hard enough I’m certain there will be bruises tomorrow. And I bask in the raw passion. The intense need. I love the way we bring out each other’s most base instincts. The way we’re both so proper in public, and so improper behind closed doors.
“Take it like a good girl, Miss Thorne,” he says, before his control snaps completely and his voice becomes a harsh growl. “Every. Inch.”
The wet slapping noises of Stefan taking me forcefully fill the room, mingling only with his heavy breaths and my quiet, desperate moans. He eventually leans over my body and reaches beneath me, finding my clit with his fingers.
He rubs firmly while continuing to drive into me wildly, panting in my ear. “If there was any uncertainty in your mind about where we stand, let me clear that up for you now.” He slows his thrusts, pulling out and then driving in hard, rattling my body with the force of his claim. “You are mine.” My hands slip on the desk, and my legs shake. “And I am yours.”
And as I fall apart beneath his firm body, feeling him move inside of me, I know I’m exactly where I need to be.
There’s no uncertainty now.
