The Risqué Contracts Series (25 page)

I told her about the time I’d spent with Gabe, what happened with the dean and his subsequent proposal. “I’m worried this is all moving too fast. I’ve longed for him from afar for four months, but we’ve only really been together for three days. And I can’t help but think the only reason he popped the question is because he doesn’t want me to go to Berkley in the fall.”

“I’m the last person to judge you for the speed of your relationship, Charlotte. Remember me? You’ve known Gabe for about four times as long as I knew Brysen before I married him—married, not just accepted his proposal. And that was three days into our actual relationship.”

I thought about how perfect Elisa and Brysen were together, how I’d seen it for myself from the moment I brought our mom’s wedding dress to her in Lake Tahoe. They were proof that whirlwind romances could work, but their story was different from mine and Gabe’s. “Brysen didn’t have any ulterior motives when it came to asking you to marry him that weekend. Nothing other than wanting you to be his wife right away.”

“The best advice I can give you is to talk to Gabe about your worries. Let him know what’s in your heart. The only way to build a solid relationship is to communicate with each other, even when it’s hard.” She paused for a moment. “Actually, scratch that. Especially when it’s hard.”

I knew she was right. I needed to talk to Gabe when he got home tonight. I gulped down my bloody mary and reached for the pitcher on the coffee table to refill my glass. I needed some more alcohol to settle my nerves.

***

I
was sitting and waiting for Gabe in his dining room when he got home, dinner on the table. It seemed to be our thing, and I wanted our conversation to go as smoothly as possible. Although Gabe was an excellent cook, my skills in the kitchen were lacking so I’d ordered take-out and picked it up on my way back from my sister’s house.

Gabe’s gaze swept over me, lingering on my legs as I uncrossed them before standing next to the candlelit table. “Aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?” He dropped a quick kiss on my lips and then settled into the chair next to me. “But you didn’t have to make dinner. I would have done it. I like feeding you.”

“And I like being fed by you.”

His eyes heated at my response, his gaze dropping to my lips and I knew he wasn’t thinking about watching me eat but seeing something else slide into my mouth instead. I licked my lips at the thought of tasting his cock and then shook my head, trying to fight the sensuous fog I quickly fell into when I was around him. He was too damn sexy for my own good. The food would get cold, but I knew if I didn’t start this conversation now, the odds were good I’d forget what I wanted to say and we’d end up in bed together without talking at all.

I took one deep breath to settle my nerves and then dove right into the heart of the matter. “We kind of got sidetracked last night and didn’t talk about the timing of our engagement and what you see happening next.”

“The timing of our engagement? What’s there to talk about? I asked, you said yes. It’s done. My ring is on your finger.” He tugged my hand into his. “And that’s where it’s going to stay forever.”

“But we didn’t really talk about why you asked me now instead of later.”

His fingers tightened around me. “I thought we moved past this last night?”

“You kind of avoided the question and distracted me.”

“There was a chance you were going to leave. I didn’t want that to happen. Getting married solves this problem. I admitted then that asking you to marry me was influenced by my desire to keep you here. You still said yes. End of story.”

His tone was harsh and I hesitated to push forward, but I kept my sister’s advice in mind. “You can’t just make decisions like this for both of us without talking things through with me first, Gabe.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

I narrowed my eyes at his placating tone. “No, I don’t think you do. Don’t try to feed me some macho bullshit about how you’ll talk to me about this later, not until you actually stop and think about this. We both know there will be a next time, an instance when we’re faced with an important decision and you’ll want to decide what’s best. I need to know that we’ll make those decisions together. Do you get how huge this is to me?”

“I get it,” he murmured. “I’m not just telling you what you want to hear so you’ll be quiet. I saw a problem and I looked for a solution. It’s how my brain works. I needed to keep you by my side, couldn’t risk you going to California without me. It killed me to know you had that option and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it because I can’t go with you, sweetheart. Not until my contract is done.”

The last little bit of his speech jumped out at me. “What if I defer my acceptance to both schools? Buy us some time while you finish out your contract here and see what happens before I have to make a final decision.”

“There isn’t anything to see,” he growled. “You said yes last night, sweetheart. You want to marry me, same as I want to marry you.”

My head was spinning. “Someday, yeah. But this is going so fast.”

“Four months we wasted, both of us devouring every written word we could find from the other while we couldn’t be together. One hundred and twenty-nine days is not too fast. Not when we fit together perfectly as a couple.”

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

“I get that,” he replied, turning in his chair so he could pull me onto his lap. “I really do. But what I haven’t heard you say is you don’t want to be my wife.”

Of course he hadn’t heard me say that, because there wasn’t any way I could force those words past my lips. Not when it’s what I wanted more than anything in the world, but I needed to know he wanted it the same way I did—a fear he’d vanquished the second he’d told me the exact number of days we’d known each other, because I’d counted each of those days too. Now, there wasn’t anything else holding me back.

I
sat in my car in the employee parking lot running over the events of the last several days. After our big talk, Charlotte seemed more at ease and accepting of our decision to get married. Her solution to defer for two years was perfect, but something about it was bothering me.

She’d completed her last final and we’d begun moving her into my apartment. Okay...I started moving her in while she was taking her exam. She was a little irritated at my “high-handedness.” But, it didn’t take me long to convince her around to my way of thinking. Especially after the third orgasm.

No matter what she said though, I could see that there was disappointment under a false bravado. She was eager to finish school and become a teacher, like her parents. I knew she would be amazing, the teacher every kid remembered years later. I wanted my sweet, genuinely happy Charlotte back. But, I didn’t have a fucking clue how we could make it work.

I sighed and climbed from the car, grabbing my bag and heading for the main office to drop off final grades. While I was there, Dean Whitehall happened to step out of his office, and when he saw me, he called out and motioned me inside.

“Gabe,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Dean Whitehall.” I shook his hand before taking a seat in front of his desk.

“Call me Paul,” he offered as he walked around and sat down. He leaned his elbows on the desktop and his fingers formed a steeple beneath his chin.

“Miss Young was in my office yesterday,” he said casually. I nodded, aware that she’d been in to file for deferment.

“You know she’s putting off school?”

Again, a nod. I didn’t see the need to speak.

“Is it because of the fraternization rule?”

I sighed, “Yes. We couldn’t live without each other and there was no way for me to go with her. So, she’s putting off school until my contract is up.”

Paul leaned back in his chair and studied me, making me feel like a kid who’d been sent to the principal’s office.

“Gabe, we love having you on staff here. The students and the faculty have nothing but wonderful things to say about you. And, one of the things that makes you a good professor and role model is your dedication and sense of responsibility. This is why I was rather surprised that you never approached me about being let out of your contract. I could have gone to the board and presented your case.”

“I accepted the contract. I didn’t feel right about asking to be released, especially only a semester into it.”

“That’s exactly my point,” the dean responded. “So, I did it anyway.”

I sat up straight and peered at the dean. “Excuse me?” I wanted to be very sure I understood him before getting my hopes up.

“I went to the board and convinced them to let you defer, instead of Miss Young. When she has finished her master’s degree, she’ll have to look elsewhere for a doctorate so that you can return to teaching here, unless you’re married of course. But, I know it’s a little early for you two to even be thinking about that route.”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “What do you mean, unless we’re married?”

“Oh, well, if the two of you eventually get married, it makes you an exception to the fraternization rule, as long as she isn’t enrolled in one of the courses you teach,” he explained.

“Paul, Charlotte and I are engaged.”

His bushy eyebrows flew up into his salt-n-pepper hair. “You—you are—already?” he spluttered.

I laughed, “I know it seems crazy to others, but it’s right for us.”

Paul scratched his head, looking at me curiously. “I guess, um—well, anyway. As long as you’re married by the time she registers for fall classes, you can both continue at the university.”

I stood, unable to contain my excitement. I reached across the desk and pumped his hand up and down. “I appreciate what you did for me, Paul. That was incredibly generous of you. But, I’ve got this covered.”

I ran from the office without waiting for a reply. Grabbing my coat and bag from where I’d left them in the front office, I sprinted out to the car and sped home. Then I made a mad dash up to our apartment, flinging the door open. “Sweetheart?” I called.

“Kitchen!” she yelled back.

When I got to the room, I scooped her up, making her yelp in surprise, and threw her over my shoulder before heading straight to the bedroom. We got to the bed and I tossed her down, letting her bounce a few times before landing on top of her.

“You know I love you, right?” I asked fervently.

She was still giggling from bouncing on the bed, but she calmed and placed a palm on each of my cheeks. “Of course, and I love you too, more than anything.”

I kissed her softly and grinned. “How fast can I get you to walk down the aisle with me?”

“Umm...” She blinked at me in surprise. “When do you want to get married?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Tomorrow.”

She laughed and then stopped suddenly when she noticed I hadn’t joined in. “Not tomorrow,” she said firmly.

“When?” I pushed.

“I hadn’t—well, I guess we could get married at the end of the summer. Before you start school again?”

I grinned. “Perfect. How about the first weekend in August? That will give you time to get registered for classes and get used to being Mrs. Aldric before beginning classes.”

Her eyes widened, utterly confused.

“I talked to the dean today. He told me that there is an exception to the fraternization rule. If we are married and you aren’t in any of my classes, we can both continue at the university at the same time.”

She couldn’t seem to get words out of her cute little rosebud mouth, just opened and closed it a few times.

“Oh,” I added, “I’d also like to point out how you picked the date.” I smirked. “Notice how I didn’t make the decision for us?”

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, “But you would have, wouldn’t you?”

I winked at her. “Guess you’ll never know, will you?”

S
wiping gloss over my lips, I studied myself in the mirror and decided this was as good as it was going to get today. I was incredibly tired, but it was graduation day so I’d put a little more effort into my preparations this morning than I had in a while. Energy which was well spent if the look of Gabe’s face as he walked up behind me was any indication.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, his arms caging me in on either side while he dipped his head to nibble at my neck.

“Careful or you’ll muss me up,” I warned half-heartedly. We both knew I could care less about my hair or makeup, not when it was my husband doing the disheveling.

“You’re making me as hard as a rock, sweetheart.” He backed up his statement by grinding the proof against my ass.

“That’s how I like you best.” I wiggled my ass, enjoying the feel of his hard length.

His hands moved off the vanity to my hips, gripping me tightly and holding me in place. “You keep that up and I’m going to fuck you hard right here.”

I did a quick calculation of the time in my head. It would be close, but it was definitely doable. I didn’t bother answering, just slid the bottom of my skirt up with one hand and tugged my panties down with the other until they fell to my ankles. Lifting a foot, I pointed my toe and let the panties drop further so I could widen my stance when I stepped down again.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You make me lose control every single time.”

He unbuckled his belt, undid the button on his suit pants and slid the zipper down. They slid partially down his thighs, exposing his cock since he’d apparently gone commando today. Then his cock was at my entrance. There was no preamble, no warm-up. I was already drenched, and he slammed into me. I cried out, leaning against the vanity to let him go deeper. Our eyes were locked on the image of us in the mirror as I ground back against him while he rode me hard. We were both out of control, my pussy swallowing his thick cock over and over. He watched the heated flush spread over my skin, my eyes going wide as my mouth formed his name in a startled gasp.

“So fucking beautiful when you come.”

Only then did he allow his orgasm to take him, after he’d watched me reach my own climax. He hammered into me several more times, each stroke harder than the last. My fingers clenched against the vanity as I pushed back against him, meeting each thrust until he buried his face in my neck and held still, his cock jerking inside me.