Professor Cline: Redeemed (Professor #2) (10 page)

He rose from his seat and pulled me up with him. A determined expression on his face caused me to look at him in bewilderment.

He grabbed my hand and tugged me with him down the hall, past the stairs, and to the right into his office. Dropping my hand, he walked directly to his bar and poured himself a drink.

I guessed I could count this as a fact about Mason. He treasured his scotch.

He brought the glass to his lips and sipped it generously before turning toward me.

“I’m not the one who gets asked the questions. I’m usually the one that does the asking, the commanding. My life has always been about control,” he stated as he slowly made his way back to me. “You’re going to want to know the why’s of my life, be curious of the reason I do the things I do, but the fact is there are things I’ll never divulge.”

My heart raced as he moved closer. There was no amusement of any kind on his face. His expression was inscrutable, but he still had that alluring appeal. I could tell his mood had done a one-eighty, my big mouth going too far. Which, in a sense, seemed so silly to me. I was just asking questions, but obviously I’d hit a nerve.

We stood toe to toe as he drank the rest of his scotch, placing the glass on the table in the middle of the room, in front of the couch.

Lifting his hand, he rubbed his knuckles down my cheek then leaned in to kiss me. It was unexpected, but I was all too willing to participate. It was a slow kiss, teasing and biting, causing my insides to twist with need once again.

I lifted my arms to wrap around his neck but he grabbed them, stopping me in my tracks before he slowly pulled away.

He gazed into my eyes somberly.

“I loved once, but it was taken away from me.”

And just like that, he moved completely away from me and headed back to the bar.

I gazed at his back as he walked away, processing the little bit of information he’d just given me. I had questions at the tip of my tongue.

The stupid part of my brain forced me to open my mouth to ask another, but thankfully I was stopped by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

Mason

I knew I’d planted just enough information in Emma’s head to cause her to ask more questions, but it was all I was willing to give. If this was going to work, she was going to have to be smart and listen to what I was telling her. She had to understand that there were some things I’d never talk about.

So far, the night wasn’t going exactly how I’d intended. I didn’t plan on fucking her in the lanai, but my need had gotten the best of me. I couldn’t hold back. As soon as I saw her standing on my doorstep, I’d wanted to pull her in and take her there, to command her body and do as I pleased, but I didn’t.

I needed to obtain some semblance of self-control. After my meeting with Victor, I had a need for release, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. My attraction toward Emma was unlike anything I’d experienced before. It was terrifying in a sense because I had no explanation for it; it was just there. The thought of letting her go was unthinkable, but to keep her? I felt the same way.

I’d told her I wanted to try, and I told myself I wanted to change; I just had to alter my course of thinking. Yet it was hard to change what I’d been doing for over thirteen years.

I’d just poured myself another glass of scotch when I heard the doorbell ring. Turning in that direction, I met Emma’s curious expression.

I rarely had anyone come to my door unless it was a scheduled visit, so I wasn’t sure who the hell it could be.

Setting my glass down, I made my way to the door, stopping by Emma first.

“I’m not sure who that could be, so stay in here, okay?” I commanded, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

She nodded in understanding, and I left her to open the door.

What I found when I did so had me seething.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Rachel stood there with puffy eyes and runny mascara. Her clothes were wrinkly and she looked like hell. I wanted to slam the door in her face, and I would’ve if I didn’t think she’d ring the doorbell consistently until I opened it for her again. It was best to see what she wanted so she’d go away. And after our last conversation, I was surprised to see her here.

“I need to talk to you,” she stated sternly.

“You could have just called, Rachel. What the fuck do you want?”

She jutted her hip out, placing her hand on it.

“Aren’t you at least going to invite me in?”

I scoffed and walked out onto the steps, closing the door behind me. I didn’t want Emma to hear whatever it was Rachel had to say.

“No,” I said, annoyed, crossing my arms over my still bare chest. “Get on with it or you can get off my property.”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, her voice cracking as she started to cry.

“Not my problem.”

I turned and was about to open the door when she spoke again.

“You’re really going to leave the mother of your child on your doorstep?”

I turned back toward her with a scowl.

“Rachel, it would be wise for you to learn your facts before you start accusing people of impregnating you. I’m unable to have kids and from what I can remember, John is, also. So either you’re being a lying, condescending bitch, or you were fucking around with more than just me.”

Her lip started quivering, and she averted her eyes before she broke into a sob.

I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. This was the last thing I wanted to fucking deal with.

“I don’t want to be a dick, Rachel, but do you have any idea what kind of man you’re marrying? I really hope this is all a lie because I can guarantee you that if you are indeed pregnant, John will
not
claim it and there’s no telling what he might do.”

She wiped her eyes and looked up at me.

“What do you mean, what he might do?”

I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath before slowly letting it out. I couldn’t just tell her my theory of what John might do because there was no guarantee he would get rid of her.

“I didn’t mean anything. Listen,” I commanded as I placed a hand on her arm. “My suggestion to you is to figure out who the father is and either confront him about it or get rid of it. I really don’t see any other way.”

She pulled away from me. “I’m not getting rid of it.”

I didn’t think she would. “Then find the father. Do you even know who the father is?”

She sniffed and licked her lips before diverting her eyes once again. “He’s not going to care, Mason. He’s not the kind of man who’s going to want a kid.” Tears ran down her face again and she wiped at her eyes. “I was drunk, and I just didn’t care at the time. He was being so nice to me. Comforting me. John’s never home and I just wanted to be touched. You’d stopped texting and he was there.”

You reap what you sow.
I had no sympathy for her. She was a gold digger and jumped on the first opportunity to be with John. She took advantage of the life, and this is what happened.

“Who is it?”

She shook her head, not wanting to tell me, but I wasn’t going to back down. “Who’s the fucking father, Rachel?” I asked sternly.

She looked up and met my gaze.

“Donicko,” she stated in a whispered breath.

I stared at her blankly then ran a hand through my hair.

Fuck
.

I knew for a fact that things would be bad for her if she confronted Donicko. But the question was: Do I act like a dick and tell her to fuck off, or do I help her get out of the trouble she’s in?

I let out a sigh and placed my hands on my hips, debating on what I should do.

“Look, Rachel. I’m not exactly sure what you thought you’d achieve by coming here, but there is nothing I can do for you.” There was no way I was dealing with this shit, especially with Donicko being involved, no matter how many tears she shed. “My suggestion to you is to reconnect with your family and break things off with John. I’m not getting involved.”

“But—”

“No,” I stated with finality. “I suggest you leave and figure out what’s more important in your life: staying with John or protecting your baby.”

With that, I turned and walked back into the house. Donicko had his hands so deep in the pocket of my life it was fucking ridiculous, but I only had myself to blame. I kept that relationship going. I should have walked away, but I was being malicious. But actually, I couldn’t even call it that, because it caused no harm to John. In fact, he didn’t even care. So why did I keep it going? I’d told myself it was the satisfaction of knowing he couldn’t keep her happy, that she was always running to me. It didn’t make any sense. Maybe this was what John wanted. This was, in some way, keeping us connected in a sick, fucked-up way.

I sighed, frustrated with myself. The mood for the night had completely changed, but I still had Emma to entertain.

Closing the door, I headed back into my office to find Emma sitting on the couch with her legs curled up beside her, a law book in her hands.

“Is everything okay?” she asked with a look of concern on her face.

“Yes, of course,” I stated nonchalantly then pointed to the book. “Don’t you spend enough time studying about the law?” I smiled.

“Can you really ever study too much?” She laughed and closed the book.

“Actually, you can, and I highly recommend against it.”

I moved toward her to take a seat, but she stood up just as I was about to sit.

She walked to the corner of the room, placed the book back on its shelf and turned to look at me.

“I should go,” she stated as she jerked her thumb toward the front door. “Is there any way you could ask Carlos to pick me up, or I could call a cab?”

I could tell by her hand gestures and the way her eyes kept darting around that she was on edge. I was sure it had everything to do with someone showing up at my door.

I cursed to myself as I tried to figure out how to get her to stay. I didn’t want the night to end. This had been the first time in a very long time I’d felt normal. I was getting to know her in a different way than I’d ever done with any other woman. All except one.

I walked toward her and she dropped her gaze as I brushed my fingertips along her forehead, pushing some stray hairs out of her face.

“You don’t have to leave, princess. I’d actually prefer you didn’t,” I purred as I leaned down to her ear. “The night is still young.”

“Y-yes,” she stuttered. “But I
do
have to get up early for school.”

I pulled back and smirked at her as I raised a brow. “Your first class doesn’t start until ten. That’s not what I’d consider early.”

“No, but I need to get some reading in before bed. And I—”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get away from me.”

I would never admit that the thought alone had me on edge. I needed to know what happened from the time the doorbell rang that made her demeanor change so drastically, but I’d never force it out of her. She’d either tell me willingly or not at all.

“What?” she exclaimed with a laugh. “No, not at all. Honestly, I’m just tired.”

We gazed at each other and I tried to read her emotions. Maybe there wasn’t anything wrong. Maybe she
was
just tired.

“Come on,” I persuaded as I grabbed her hand, dragging her with me. “Sit with me and have one last drink before you leave.”

I didn’t look at her as I pulled her along. I sensed no resistance as she followed along with me.

I stopped at the couch, letting her hand go. “Sit and I’ll get us a drink.”

Before doing anything, I pulled my cell out of my pocket and sent Carlos a quick text to be back in thirty minutes to take Emma home. Then I picked up the crystal decanter, beginning to pour when she spoke.

“Do you always get what you want?” she asked seductively.

I smiled slightly at her comment. I knew it was more of a statement since she already knew the answer.

I turned to see her sitting in the corner of the couch with her legs crossed. The dress she’d worn was long and covered every inch of her body, except her arms and her gorgeous neck. But I didn’t need to see her skin to know how fucking sexy she was underneath.

I walked toward her with two glasses of scotch and slowly sat down beside her, handing her the drink.

“I don’t want for much, Emma, but yes, I usually get what I want.”

I took a sip of my drink, dumbfounded by her laughter at my reply.

“Oh, God,” she stated, taking a breath. “I didn’t expect you to answer so honestly.”

I smiled. “I told you before that I always expect the truth. The same goes for me. I have no reason to be untruthful.”

“Not untruthful. Just vague.”

She took a sip of the scotch then stared at the glass in her lap. She was pulling away from me, and I didn’t like it. That was usually
my
MO.

I turned my body toward hers then leaned to place my drink on the table.

“You have one wild card you can use on me. Use it wisely.”

She looked at me in confusion. “What do you mean a wild card?”

“Ask me anything and you shall receive.”

That grabbed her attention instantly. “Anything at all?”

Maybe I jumped the gun on that one.
The thought was suddenly making me nervous, but I needed to do something. I needed her to see that I was trying.

I stared into her eyes and stayed true to my statement. “Anything.”

She leaned over to put her untouched scotch on the table then turned her body toward mine.

“You will answer one hundred percent truthfully and you won’t give me the runaround?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Is this your question?” I responded with a smirk.

She playfully slapped me on the arm with a slight laugh. “No, I’m setting the rules.”

“Rules?”

“Yes, you seem to like rules, so I’m going to set them so you can’t back down.”

I perked up at that statement because I could tell she was already picking up things from me. That’s exactly how I handled things. Rules were a big deal to me.

“Ah, yes, but aren’t rules made to be broken?” I teased.

She shook her head. “Not by you.”

I chuckled. “Okay, yes, I’ll answer anything you ask me, and truthfully. Now, what shall it be?”

She glanced away from me and licked her lips, taking a deep breath as if to calm her nerves. Then she looked up and gazed into my eyes.

“Why do you cut yourself?”

I furrowed my brow at the bluntness of her question, but was I honestly expecting her to ask me something simple?

“Okay, wait a minute,” she blurted before I could speak. “I can tell by the look on your face that this is probably something you don’t speak of and it’s completely none of my business. First, I want to say that I respect your privacy; anything we do or say together stays between us. I’m not in this to make a buck. I like you, and I want to get to know you better. So, with that being said, I’m asking because I honestly want to know. If you and I are going to try this out, I want to know if something I did or do is going to trigger you to harm yourself, because that’s the last thing I’d ever want. I spent too much time in my relationship with Tim avoiding things and not speaking up. And please don’t deny it again. I saw it with my own eyes.”