“I’ll rub you any way you like if you want.” His smile widens and eyes wander down my body and slowly back up in obvious appraisal.
And as much as I’m glad he’s finally taking notice, I hope he likes what he sees because it will be the last time he gets a good look at it. “Like I said, you’re an asshole.”
“I can think of worse things to be.” He shrugs, smarmy look in place that tells me he’s enjoying this. “I hate to break it to you but uh, I’m not going anywhere.” He lifts his chin toward the podium. “I happen to be a wannabe professor.” He licks his bottom lip and steps closer to me. “So we can play this two ways.”
“Two ways?” I don’t think I like where this conversation is going considering that fuck-all smirk of his just widened so big that tiny little dimples appeared. I hear his friend shift and sigh but don’t look.
“Yeah. You know your hostility is obviously masking your true feelings.”
“True feelings?” And there I go again, repeating what he says. How has he reduced me—a woman always confident and quick with my wit—to two-word sentences? I don’t have much time to think about it because he steps closer, causing me to retreat so that the backs of my legs hit the seat behind me. I have nowhere to go now.
“Mm-hm. That you’re hot for teacher.”
I cough out a laugh, choking on my own words with the knowledge of hierarchy of student to professor. I tone down my response before I respond. “I’m sure you’d love to think that, except not everyone is mesmerized by your dazzling charm. Besides, there’s a school policy against fraternization between students and wannabe professors.” I purse my lips and wait for his response.
He glances over to his friend and gives him a look I can’t quite see before running a hand through his hair and focusing back on me. “For some reason I don’t think you care if you follow any rules or not.”
Well, at least he’s got that right because I’m probably breaking several right now with the way I’m speaking to him and I couldn’t care in the least. “You said we could play it two ways,” I say, suddenly remembering the comment from moments before that his cocksure comeback distracted me from. “What’s the second?”
“Drop the class,” he deadpans, eyes daring me to, body telling me not to.
“I can’t.”
“Hm,” he murmurs. “You most definitely aren’t doing it right Trix, if you can’t.”
“Does everything with you have to be sexual?” I ask even though I know damn well the reason I’m hearing the innuendo is because of the supercharged sexual tension I suddenly realize is zinging between us.
“Yes.” He nods but it’s not the matter-of-fact way he says it that causes my libido to stand at attention but rather the predatory way his eyes own mine. “Like I said, if it bugs you that much, be my guest, transfer out.”
“I’m sure you’re not used to being told the word but I’ll gladly say it to you.” I step even closer, our eyes locked, our bodies reacting to the lack of space between us. I swallow down the lust I don’t want to feel that’s lodged in my throat and whisper the word to him. “No.”
He shakes his head and stares with those storm cloud–colored eyes of his, trying to figure out how to take me. “Why not?”
“Because I’m your TA.”
Chapter 3
HAWKIN
My TA? What the fuck?
She stares at me with defiance in her caramel-colored eyes and a victorious smirk on those full lips. I love the fact that she has the balls to play me like she did when everyone else simply complies either from being starstruck or intimidated.
Gotta love a girl with brass ones.
Our verbal duel ends abruptly when she turns and walks away without another word. So why do I find myself wanting to ask her to stay even though she obviously detests me? The woman is intriguing and intense and … a bitch, but shit, there’s just something about her that has my dick commandeering my thoughts.
Damn her for pointing out my sexual innuendos because now as she stalks out, her fine-as-fuck ass in that short skirt that keeps giving me a glimpse of tan, toned thigh with each step, sex is all I can think of.
Sex with her in particular.
I blow out a breath as she strides out the door without a backward glance and even though I hear the outer door to the auditorium open and then close, I still keep staring.
Vince draws out a long, low whistle to the left of me. “Now, that’s a coed worth getting schooled by. Bet your ass she’d be feisty as hell in the sack.”
I tear my eyes from the doorway, a part of me hoping she’ll come back through it for some reason, before turning to face him. And I can’t pinpoint what it is that he said that irritates me but I’m irritated nonetheless. But I shake off the notion just like I wish I could shake the desire riding rampant through my system. “She might be sexy as hell but some kitty-cat claws aren’t worth the scratch.” Even as I’m speaking the words, my body calls me on the lie.
“Sexy? Dude, that’s the understatement of the year. She’s smokin’ hot. Her curves were banging, her—”
“Banging is definitely something I’d like to do to her,” I mutter under my breath, her face immediately flashing in my mind even though it’s been only a matter of moments since she’s left. I turn to retrieve my bag where it lies.
“Since when is hostile your type?”
“You know me, Vince, the only type I have is willing,” I say over my shoulder although right now I’m thinking hostile looks pretty damn attractive.