Authors: Stella White
“That is all for tonight,” said Lance, and as quick as he showed up, he was gone.
Liana stood speechless.
“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you,” said Jamal.
“Oh...hey
...
ya sorry I couldn’t find you either,” said Liana.
“I was standing in the same place, waiting for you.”
“Well this is a large venue, I tried to find you, but I guess I got lost, I’m sorry.”
“You have just been acting so strange lately.
And who was that guy you were dancing with?” Asked Jamal.
“What are you talking about,” said Liana.
“Nevermind, I need to get out of here. I need some fresh air,” said Jamal as he turned to leave the dance.
Liana followed him. Now she felt the weight of her day to day problems. She hated
it
and wanted to return to Lance. He never brought problems into her life, only joy and peace and happiness. They went outside to the parking lot.
“You know what Liana, you have never
really
showed much affection to me, and I get it, that is just your personality. But this past week, it has just been a different ballgame. You don’t even give me the time of day,” said Jamal in anger.
“Jamal, I have a lot going on, you can’t expect
to always be
in the center of my world,” replied Liana.
“See, that’s just it. I am never the center of your
world;
I am just a convenience to you. You know what? I am tired of doing everything I can to understand you and treat you right. I
’m tired of the
games and putting myself out there and getting nothing in return. I’m going home, said Jamal.
Liana just stood there, as Jamal got into his car and left. She turned and looked back at the dance. There were couples outside, holding each other, laughing and seeming to love each other.
Why can’t I find that? Why do I turn guys away?
Lana sat down on the curb and began sobbing. It was supposed to be a special night. Christmas had always meant so much to her. Now she was alone, with nobody to console her.
Lance is just a fantasy. He would never
truly
love me. He probably thinks I’m just a stupid girl. I’m sure he gets hit on by tons of young girls. Who am I that he should care.
She remembered their dance, but it felt as if a dream.
How could that be
real?
Did that
really
happen?
She wondered what kind of guy Lance
really
was
if he could be trusted. Her thoughts made her
sadder
, and she continued to weep. A light snow began to fall, and she was
very cold
.
Chapter 8
Lance got
in
his car to drive home. He had taken
a huge
risk to dance with Liana.
Driving home, he felt something.
There was a look in her eye that he couldn’t shake.
Innocence.
Lance took a deep breath. He couldn’t turn around and
go talk
to her.
This was
forbidden. He should never have come.
But I must return.
Lance would lose his job immediately and get his teaching license revoked. It isn’t worth it, just a fantasy, nothing more. There have been countless girls in the past he has liked and
have liked
him back. And there would be countless more. Why should Liana be any
different?
But she was. He knew it to be true. Lance turned around.
He had just got done telling Liana that she should always feel alive, on the edge, excited and dangerous. Now he would live out those words. He sped up, his heart rate rising. Lance felt alive now. Lance was Don Quixote rescuing Dulcinea, or Romeo about to meet Juliet, knowing that their love was forbidden. Lance knew the cost. He knew that Pyramus and Thisbe died, that Romeo and Juliet committed suicide. He knew that forbidden love often ended with tragedy, but that was made it beautiful, and why the poets and muses sing of it. Lance had lived his life according to the rules, and it was good. But now Lance was no longer satisfied with good. He wanted a beautiful,
dangerous
love.
He
wanted Liana.
Now his heart was soaring, as he imagined the scene that was about to take place. Forbidden love didn’t have to
be forbidden
for long. There was a way for them to be together, and he would make it happen. His car continued. He turned the last corner and there she was, alone in the cold without a coat.
Chapter 9
Liana’s spirits were now
completely
downcast,
and any hint of forlorn hope seemed to slip away. She was nearly out of tears. The cold set it, and she began to shiver. She looked around. The ground was
beginning
to cover up with snow. A few people were still entering the
dance;
it had not ended yet. She didn’t feel like going back, though. There was nothing for her there but pain and sorrow.
Suddenly, a large truck pulled up right beside her. She looked up. The door
opened,
and a well built handsome man stepped out.
“Lance!” said Liana surprised.
“Liana”
“You came back
for
me. I didn’t think you
really
cared. I thought that…”
Lance put a finger to Liana’s mouth. “Liana, you are young, and there are a lot of things about life that you do not know. I have noticed that you love the
romantics;
you love Romeo and Juliet, Guinevere and Lancelot, and other of the great love stories. I think that is
wonderful
, attractive, and
really
admire that in you. But what you must understand, is that at my age, I have lived long enough to see how precious they are. Those stories remind us of the power we have to feel. Liana, if we live our lives by the
rules,
and we do what others tell us, and try to do what we think is right, we will never feel. I want to feel again. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I have felt
deeply
. You have stirred within me something new, something I never even realized existed. I don’t care how old you are, or our backgrounds. I just care if you feel the same way. When we danced in there earlier, we floated, like a prince and a princess, as if we
were animated
from the pen strokes of Lord Byron himself. I say that we live out what we believe, and we follow our hearts. What say you?”
“Oh Lance, you have no idea how often this past week I have dreamed of something like this. Every love story I have ever read is fulfilled in
you,
Lance. You captured my heart when I first saw you. You spoke not just to my mind or my body, but to my spirit. I feel that
kindred
connection that you
speak of
.
Lance,
you
speak like
a poet, articulate and deft of
tongue
. I could listen to
you
hours on end. Your voice is like a balm to my ears. I do love
you,
Lance, with all my heart,” said Liana, with tears of joy streaming down her face.
“Then take my hand, my dear. Let us walk arm and arm into the party together. Let dance there without our masks on for everyone to see. We need not be ashamed of our love,” said Lance.
“But if they see us together, you will lose your job,” said Liana.
“Probably, if that happened, if I lost my job, then our love wouldn’t be forbidden, would it?”
Liana understood. He
really
cared for her, and would sacrifice his career for her. They walked in together, arm in arm. Liana’s favorite Christmas song was playing, and
her
and Lance slow danced in the middle of the dance floor. Neither of them had their masks on, and neither of them cared. They could not keep pretending to be other people and live the lives others expected of them.
This is
what they wanted.
The other teachers took notice and began talking to one another and notified the principal. The teachers and the principal stopped dancing and gathered to the side. Now the only people dancing were Liana and Lance and a few other students.
Eventually,
the students saw what was happening, and it was just Liana and Lance.
“Do you see what is going on around us?” asked Liana.
“Of course,” replied Lance.
The snow continued to fall on them, and the music continued to play. The ground was now white with only Liana’s red dress flowing across it.
“Everybody is looking at us,” said Liana.
“No, they are looking at you,” said Lance. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”
“This dance can last forever, right?” asked Liana.
“
Of course
it can, because every Christmas we are going to dance, from now until forever,” said Lance.
“You promise?” asked Liana.
“Promise”
Lance kept his promise. They did dance every Christmas, and do to this day. Lance lost his job of course, but with Liana by his
side,
he took up freelance work doing stuff he
really
enjoyed. Being the couple that they were, with such a vast age difference, and racial difference, they could never blend in. But that is how they wanted it. They never wanted to return to being normal again. For it was only in following their hearts that they found each other, and with each other found happiness.
*****
THE END
Want to receive freebees and news about hot new releases?
Sign up
Here
to receive links to the hottest new romance eBooks on Kindle delivered directly to your inbox every week!
OR…
Sign up
Here
to join my Facebook Page to receive the hottest posts about new romance ebooks!
Here is a FREE bonus 10.000 word romance story by Blue Sky Books, “Mr. Learner”
Mr. Learner – An Older Man, Younger Woman College Romance
“Alright, who wants to discuss the significance of Hamlet’s soliloquy in
Hamlet
?”
Swallowing thickly, Alice tried her best to pay attention to the man standing at the front of the classroom. A part of her wanted desperately to look
anywhere
else, but of course, a good student would pay attention. Under normal circumstances, she would have raised her hand almost immediately. She knew Hamlet back and forth – as well she
should
as a graduate student of British Literature.
But just now, she didn’t dare.
Raising her hand would mean having to speak directly to her Professor, which for Alice, was impossible.
She didn’t think she’d be able to talk to Thomas Learner again for a long time.
What the young woman could do, however, was look. And she certainly looked her fill.
When Thomas Learner had joined the staff at Saber College, none of its female students had been able to believe their luck. Almost none of the faculty members were younger than fifty; but at only
thirty-two
, Learner was only a few years older than
they themselves
.
He was a British Import, hailing from North Eastern London – and quite
possible
the most gorgeous
thing in the entire cosmos. Close to six and a half feet tall, the
statuesque
man looked more like a basketball player than an intellectual. His dark brown hair hung haphazardly around his face and it, along with the constant five o’clock shadow he sported, gave him a more relaxed appearance than most of the university’s other professors. A strong jaw, high cheekbones and intense blue eyes that could see right through any excuse his students had were enough to render the female ones breathless
And watching the way the muscles of his broad shoulders contracted beneath his crisp shirt when he wrote on the board called more attention than many of his lectures.
Alice, for her part, had always loved British Literature. She’d been hooked on Shakespeare, Charles
Dickens,
and Jane Austen almost since she’d learned how to read, and she’d been a talented writer since her early teens.
But nothing could have prepared her for the first time her Professor read aloud from Shakespeare’s
Twelfth Night.
It had been sometime during the first two weeks of class, and Learner had chosen an excerpt to demonstrate Shakespeare’s particular style.
The way his
low
, British lilt had all but caressed the syllables made Alice’s knees so weak she was glad that she was sitting down. Her heart had stumbled in her chest and, to her utter embarrassment, she grew instantly damp between the legs.
In all her
twenty-six
years, Alice had never encountered a man who could make her wet purely with the way he sounded. It was both exhilarating and frightening at once.
She carried her torch for Professor Learner in silence until, one day, he pulled her aside after class to discuss a paper she’d written. Alice
was terrified
that he would ask her to write it over.
While she wrote she’d been able to think of little more than what she’d rather be doing to her professor instead of her homework.
Instead, however, Professor Learner had praised her paper, and invited her to dinner to talk about her writing technique.
It was the beginning of what the young woman tried to tell herself was a platonic relationship. Not once – at least in the beginning – had Learner put his hands on her. They had lunch once, maybe twice a week, and discussed how he could better help his students with their papers. Of course, while the
breathtaking
man had spoken to her about syllabi and grading curves, Alice memorized the scent of his cologne – the way his dimples made themselves known when he smiled, and the way he liked his burger cooked.
She relished every moment she spent with him – and, one day, her indulgence got the better of her. After one of his classes, the young woman sat next to his desk, reading through her most recent paper. After a night of little sleep, she found herself nodding off – right into Learner’s lap.
Where she discovered his hard-on.
Her professor acted dreadfully embarrassed, apologizing profusely for the two minutes it had taken
for Alice
to seize her opportunity.
Very shortly, she discovered that the man who spoke to her of poetry and metaphors had secretly been just as hungry for her as she was for him. The experience culminated with Thomas locking the door of the lecture hall and taking her right there on the desk. As gentle and mild-mannered as he appeared, the man had done nothing less that screw her silly – pound her hips against his
desk
until they bruised and made her come so many times it was hard for her to see straight.
Even now, as she watched that divine, full mouth of his form the syllables of his lecture, she remembered how
divine
they’d felt kissing and biting at her nipples, sucking
at
her neck as long, slender fingers clutched almost desperately at the creamy white skin of her thighs.
She had never known sex could be like…
that
.
And yet
…
it had been a mistake.
The thought made her bite down on her lower lip as her gaze darkened. Who the hell slept with their professor? It was like a clichéd porno plot, complete with the naïve girl who all but jumps onto her lover’s cock. Alice had every intention of actually
getting
her master’s degree, and how was she supposed to do that when the man who played the biggest part in her education wasn’t able to see her objectively?
Once their lust for one another had cooled and they came back to their senses, she and Learner had agreed never to speak of what happened
between
them again. They would go on as if nothing had changed –
that
would be the best policy.
Yet, here
Alice was, three weeks later, still throbbing between the legs every time the man so much as looked at her. She could avoid him all she wanted, but
nothing could
burn the memories of how he’d made her feel from her mind.
**
He missed her.
So much so that he almost regretted what they were together –
almost
. Thomas didn’t know whether he could ever regret how
right
it felt to be inside Alice – how divine her body felt against him and how gorgeous her face looked in the throes of orgasm.
Despite all the physical chemistry, however, there was no chance of recapturing the way they’d been
before
they got their hands on each other. Alice was a brilliant student, and Thomas admired her drive both as a professor and as a man.
That, he supposed, was where all the trouble had started. He’d done everything he could to keep a fair distance from her, but Alice stood out in a way too remarkable to ignore. She had
a true
passion for her
subject,
and her papers were publishable even though she had yet to finish her graduate degree.
And, of course, she was gorgeous enough that he fought his body’s reaction every time he saw her.
Long, dark hair that she liked to keep pinned up in
a no-nonsense
way at the base of her neck, wide blue eyes that gleamed with curiosity; a full, utterly kissable mouth – and that body of hers?
Bloody hell
, it was a crime that she kept it so goddamned covered. Alice liked to wear modestly cut tops and demure skirts – clothes that didn’t do her a bit of justice.
For weeks, Thomas had suspected the figure she was hiding beneath her
dour
wardrobe, but the reality had been beyond his wildest dreams. Lush, ample breasts, wide hips and a
minuscule
waist. God, how many times had he lie awake at night remembering the silky feel of her thighs as he gripped them?
As he pressed deep
inside
her delicious warmth?
He knew he
was being
an idiotic
cad
. Thomas had only just acquired his position at the college, and he’d already put it in jeopardy by becoming involved with one of his students. Of course, his graduate students were more than of age, but it was the principal of the thing that mattered. He’d always considered himself a morally competent man – and sleeping with his students had never been on his agenda.
Lord knew there were plenty of willing women in the States who all but threw their knickers at him once they learned where he was from and what his profession was. It was like some
kind of
fetish
to
them
…
But not so with Alice. He’d always felt comfortable with her – at least, intellectually. Physically, it had been a struggle from the very first.
A struggle that had culminated in him giving
into
his baser instincts and taking her right
on
the main desk in a classroom.
He both revered and regretted the memory. In the heat of the moment, nothing could have felt more right than the way she moaned his name and clutched at his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises later.
But in hindsight, he wished
he’d, at least,
had the willpower to get her to his office.
At least,
things might have been a little more leisurely there. He could have
worshiped
her body, spread her wide open on the couch and buried his head between those gorgeous legs of hers…bent her over his desk and
…
Christ
.
Thank God he’d been teaching long enough that he only needed to keep half of his mind on the lecture. The other half was firmly in the realm of reviewing what he
hadn’t
had a chance to do to Alice Cantor – and that, he knew, would never do.
He’d already put his job in jeopardy enough.
“Alright, thank you all for seeing your way to come to one of the last lectures of the semester. I’ll post notes within the next few hours and feel free to e-mail me with any questions that you may have. I’ll see you next week.”
The twenty or so students set about to gathering their things as they spoke of their end –of-semester papers. He’d been looking over the few drafts that had
been submitted
to
him,
and they were, for the most part, readable. Thomas found himself worried, however, that Alice had yet to turn in her paper.
While she was still doing perfectly fine with the assignments they’d been given, ever since the incident between them, she had stopped consulting him as she worked on her project. Though Thomas would never attempt to profess that the physical chemistry between them was mind-blowing, he found that he missed her quiet brilliance just must, if not
more
than the way she gasped his name when he touched her.
As he gathered his papers near the edge of his desk, he watched her from the corner of his eye. These days, she was in a rush to be one of the first people out of the classroom. She all but shoved her papers into her bags and gazed around fearfully before fleeing the lecture hall.
Except, today, something was different. As she attempted to beat her colleagues out of the classroom, she collided with another student who was entering.
It was a spectacular event. Her bag ripped open completely, spilling books and papers all over the floor and Alice herself stumbled over long legs and landed hard on her pert behind with a yelp.
Thomas was up like a shot – almost before he had time to think.
“Oh,
fuck
, I’m sorry.” Even as the other man apologized, bending down to grab at the papers that had slid almost halfway across the room. “I wasn’t watching where I was going-”
“Are you alright, Alice?”
Thomas cut him off, reaching for Alice’s slender hand as she grimaced in pain. She reached out instinctively, her eyes only widening when she realized it was
he
who was helping her up. The young woman only maintained contact with him for long enough to make it to her feet. Then, she withdrew, almost as if she’d
been burned
.
“I
’m fine,
Professor! Thanks!” Immediately, she turned from him to kneel and began gathering her things.
“Christ, I’m a klutz. I killed your bag.”
“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, really…I’m an idiot.”
Standing over them, Thomas tried not to watch as the young man all but fell over himself to apologize. Though Alice liked to wear her reading glasses in class and cared more about identifying different literary periods than attracting men, you’d have to be blind not to realize what a beauty she was – and this student – Ryan something-or-other, if Thomas’ mind served him correctly – was no different. Under the guise of helping Alice gather her things, he was trying to look down the front of her sweater, and the Professor found himself seething.