Forbidden Heat (Firework Girls #1) (7 page)

My pulse is racing and I’m fidgeting with my own fingers as they rest on my stomach.

It feels like something inside me is ticking.
Tick, tick, tick.
Winding up to something.

I glance at the clock on my dresser. It’s nearly ten o’clock at night.

Tick, tick, tick.

I swam this morning. I don’t need another work out.

Tick, tick.

But that’s not why I would go.

Tick.

The decision settles into my bones and cements there. I jump off my bed and fling my door open.

I go down the hall to Sam’s room. The door’s open and I see her sitting at her vanity, removing her make up with a wet cloth.

I head straight for her closet. “Can I borrow one of your bikinis?”

Sam, leaning into the mirror, doesn’t even pause her movements. “No.”

I find her swim suit stash and grab the top to a red bikini. I hold it over my chest. “Will this fit me?”

“Get the white one,” she says, glancing at me through the mirror. “It’ll look gorgeous on that tan skin of yours.”

I dig through the flimsy pieces and find the white string bikini. When I come out of the closet I see she’s spun in her seat and crossed her legs. She’s giving me an amused look.

“Thanks Sam,” I say, heading for the door without stopping.

“Are you going to tell me who he is?”

“No.”

And with that, I’m gone.

I’ve been at the pool for so long, I’m starting to worry he’s not going to show. I’m in the water, but haven’t been swimming laps. If he comes, sees me, and decides to bolt again, I’ll only have one chance.

It’s nearly eleven when Professor Shane Brooks walks through the glass door. I’m low in the water, my head just above the surface, so he doesn’t see me.

When he deposits his towel on the concrete bench, I smoothly lift myself out of the pool. I don’t even look at him at first. I rise to my feet, the water streaming off my nearly naked body. I know what I look like in a bikini, and for the first time in my entire life, I’m using it to my advantage.

I tilt my head back, smoothing my hands along my hair to ease out the excess water. I’m well aware of the natural back arch that occurs when a woman brushes her hands over her hair. I don’t over-exaggerate the movement or try to thrust out my breasts like a cheap porn star.

Instead I allow my body to flow gracefully and trust Sam’s white, string bikini do it’s magic.

When I straighten and look at Shane Brooks looking at me, he looks like a deer caught in headlights.

I smile knowingly. “Evening.”

He blinks. “Hi.”

He looks like he’s ready to bolt, so I stay where I am and say, “Would you mind grabbing my towel?” I gesture to the far end of the pool where my fluffy, white towel awaits, next to my neatly-folded clothes.

As his gentlemanly instincts take over and he goes to retrieve my towel, I’m both amazed and exhilarated to see my devious plan is working. So far, at least. I’ve honestly never set out to seduce a man I wasn’t already in a relationship with. Is this how Sam does it?

I take a few steps away from the edge of the pool, but wait patiently for him to get my towel and bring it back to me. He’s looking as sexy as he always does, the tee he’s wearing hinting at the firm chest underneath.

He holds out the towel at arm’s length, clearly trying not to get too close.

I take it and drape it over one shoulder as the water beads up on my skin. I allow our eyes to rest on each other as he stands there, seemingly unable to move. His eyes keep sneaking downward, onto my bare stomach, my breasts, my crotch. He’s apparently doing this against his will because he keeps snapping his eyes back up to my face.

I raise one eyebrow and put my hands on my hips. “Aren’t you going to swim?”

His lips part like he’s going to say something. Instead he frowns and turns away from me.

As he approaches the bench, I quietly follow him. He pulls off his shirt. The sight of his bare back gets me slightly off balance for the first time since he came in. I’ve been acting like the one in control here, but the feelings he gives me are enough to knock me on my ass, if I’m not careful.

He drops his shirt next to his towel and turns to find I’m not where he left me. His lips part with surprise, but his eyes trail downward again. This time, he lets his gaze linger.

I slowly take a step toward him. He’s looking in my eyes again.

I feel myself pulled into his gaze. We fall into that look, that deep look we’ve shared before and suddenly it’s all over for me too. Gone the cool seductress. I could no more hide my desire for him than I could stop myself from feeling it.

And Shane Brooks? He looks like he’s fighting a battle to resist partaking of a particularly delectable treat... and losing.

“Miss Nikas,” he says lowly, as I take another step nearer, drawn to him.

“Isabella,” I say.

He takes half a step away from me.

“We... can’t...” he says.

“Why?”

He looks at me in surprise.

“Aren’t you attracted to me?” I ask, knowing full well the answer. If he denies the look on his face, I’ll only know he’s a liar.

He blinks, apparently surprised I would ask him such a thing directly.

“Yes,” he confesses lowly. “I... think we both know that.”

I move closer. He takes two quick steps backwards, stumbling into the bench. He quickly puts a hand on the wall behind himself to keep from going down, his muscles flexing as he does so. He steps to the side, away from me and closer to the door, then stops.

“Okay, look,” he says, “we can’t do this. I’m your professor.”

I cringe internally, knowing I would’ve said the same thing not all that long ago. But I’m tired of fighting it. I don’t care anymore. And I’m not going down without a fight.

“No, I’m sure you’re right,” I say smoothly. “It’s not like professors and students have ever crossed
that
line.”

I slowly pull the towel off my shoulder and let it fall to the floor.

“It usually ends badly,” he says vaguely, glancing down at the towel. I watch his gaze rake over my body again as he works his way back up to my eyes. He looks ready to devour me.

He’s not the only one who’s ravenous. I take the opportunity to soak in his body. God how I want to run my hands over that chest. Those abs.

My eyes dip lower. I feel a twinge of embarrassment that in spite of my best seductive moves, I see no erection as evidence of my prowess. But I lock that twinge of worry in the back of my mind as I take in the size of his package.
Good lord.

“Miss Nikas...” he says thickly.

My eyes flick up to his and I realize I’ve been caught. I don’t care. I want him.

Unless I’m reading his expression wrong, he wants me too.

But I can see he’s at war with himself.

“Is it really so wrong?” I say, letting my eyes take in his chest again. “You can’t be more than three or four years older than me.”

Rather than persuade him, my words seem to have had the opposite effect. He pinches his eyes shut and turns, taking several steps away from me and toward the door.

Dammit.

Would he leave just like that, with no shirt on? I’m not sure he wouldn’t.

“It isn’t about age,” he says firmly, his back still to me.

That little twinge of doubt I’d locked in the back of my head comes roaring out. I’m not even turning him on. I’m just making a damned fool of myself.

Fuck.

Screw this. Even wearing Sam’s bikini, I can’t rope this guy in. Forget it. I’m done embarrassing myself.

I snatch my towel from the floor and start drying off.

“It’s about an imbalance of power,” he continues.

I roll my eyes, bending down and vigorously drying my thighs. I glance up and see he’s turned back to me.

“There are those who would say that imbalance of power means students really
can’t
give consent,” he says.

I straighten and look at him. “Is that what you’re worried about? Being a rapist?”

He cringes.

Even through my embarrassment, my heart softens. God he’s adorable. I pad over to him, the towel hanging loosely from my hand. He looks genuinely disconcerted, as if he’s been accused, tried, and convicted.

I stop in front of him. “For the record,” I say softly, “
you
weren’t the one asking for consent,
I
was.”

He blinks at me. That got his attention.

“And you should be able to give it freely,” I continue, “since I have no power over you.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he says thickly. He’s giving my body that hungry look again.

Maybe I’m a fool, but I’m instantly hopeful.

I take half a step forward. He doesn’t move. His breathing has shallowed. So has mine.

Then I do the boldest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

I slowly reach out and brush my fingertips to his stomach. His lips part slightly and he exhales a shaky breath. I gradually trail my fingers down his firm abs, my whole body tingling from touching him. God, at last.

My hand reaches the top of his swimsuit.

I pause.

My eyes flick up to his. Is he willing? His gaze is smoldering.

I gently clutch the front of his waistband and pull.

He comes to me then. Closer. Closer. I reel him in.

His chest touches mine. His warm hands grip my arms just below the shoulders. This alone causes me to gasp softly, but then he leans in and his lips press against my lips.

I’m on fire everywhere.

First pressing my mouth against his, I soon part my lips, wanting to taste him. His tongue enters and brushes against mine.

I drop the towel and snake my arms around his neck, opening wider, needing him. His arms wrap around me, holding me against him. I suddenly feel practically naked. His bare chest and stomach are touching mine. His arms are on my bare back. There’s so little material separating us.

I feel his erection pressed against my thigh. No timid erection is this. He feels hard enough to spill right now.
Good god.
Was that even there a second ago?

As our tongues dart around each other, his hands rub down my back. They skip my ass and land on my thighs, squeezing me.

I’m not so hesitant. I’ve been dreaming about his body for weeks. My hands greedily rub his back, his chest, his firm rear.

He groans and pulls his head back slightly, breaking contact just long enough to gently bite my lower lip. This sends tingles all through my body and I feel my knees getting loose. I hang on tighter.

He slides his hand up the back of my neck and into my hair. My lips part again and he dives in, like there’s no resisting me now. He tastes and feels even more amazing than I imagined.

Still clutching the hair on the back of my head, his other hand slides up my side, heading for my breasts. He stops just short, leaving my hardened nipples aching for his touch.

Here’s your consent, dammit,
I think impatiently.

I grab his hand and put it on my breast, squeezing his hand so he’s squeezing me. That does the trick. He moans into my mouth, his hand caressing me freely now.

I whimper with longing. The more he touches me the more I want. I’m soaked.

His cock is digging into my thigh. I rearrange so he’s against my public bone, just above my clit. His hands clutch my ass—
finally!
—and he holds me firmly against him. God, where’s the bed in this place? I want to wrap my legs around him so badly.

He comes up for air and our eyes lock on one another. Our ragged breaths mingle together. He’s not done with me yet, thank god. I see it in his eyes. I glance at the wall, but it’s made of huge blocks of rough stone. If he pressed me against that, it’d tear me to shreds.

I glance at the pool. That could work.

I take hold of his hand, backing away and pulling him after me. I lead him toward the far end of the pool, away from the glass door.

He’s breathing hard, and when we pass the lap lanes and reach the shallow end of the pool, he pulls me to him and kisses me fully. My hands rub his back and chest, then I slide downward. Finding his cock, I wrap my hand around his thick shaft and squeeze.

He groans, squeezing my ass and pulling me tighter to him. I squeeze his cock again. I feel it pulse against me. I’m throbbing. I’ve never even considered giving myself so quickly to anyone, but I need this man now.

He pulls away from me, leaving my body cold, but he’s still holding my hand and now he’s leading me toward the water. As we descend the steps and submerge ourselves to our stomachs, I’m surrounded by the shock of the cold water, but I barely feel it I’m so hot for him.

We come back into each other’s arms, bending our legs slightly so the surface of the water’s just above my breasts. He takes my face into both hands and kisses me even more hungrily than before.

I wrap my long legs around his waist and pull him to me. His erection hits me right in the perfect spot and I moan, breaking contact with his mouth and curling my head down toward his neck.

We are nothing but bare skin against one another, except in every place it counts. He grabs my ass and pulls me tighter against him. If it weren’t for his suit and my bikini bottoms, he’d be fucking me right now. Damn these bottoms.

He’s steering us toward the wall of the pool and sets me against it gently. He pulls the fabric of my top partly away and my breast floats just on the surface. My nipple is hard and ready when he takes it into his mouth.

I arch back. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing to my nipple but I feel it clear down to my crotch. I let out more than a whimper this time.

He pulls away abruptly, looking toward the door.

“No one’s here,” I whisper.

“Shhh,” he says, turning back to me and taking me in his mouth again. His cock is bulging against me and I’m grinding against him now. I tug at his waistband with my hands, needing to get his suit out of the way.

His hands leave me long enough to take over and I look down. Even through the wavy surface of the water, I see his massive cock spring free.

Panting, I reach to my waist and pull the string tie on the bikini. I’m just now appreciating the wicked genius of this design.