Apparently she wasn't the only one who wanted to eat him up.
Storm frowned as a couple of women stopped in front of the
booth, blocking her view of the delicious university
professor and causing her aggravation meter to go up a
notch--the way it did when she was in uniform and had to
deal with a particularly obnoxious drunk.
She shook her head, trying to clear her mind and suppress
the unexpected feeling of possessiveness. Get a grip here!
She had never fought over a man in her life, and she was not
going to start with this one--no matter how many erotic
images flitted through her thoughts, and there were plenty
of them.
She'd spent more time thinking about her brief encounter
with Tristan than she'd ever admit to. She'd even gone so
far as to pull up the university catalog to see what classes
he taught.
She had not signed up for one of them. Her self-respect
demanded that she draw the line somewhere.
Besides, she had a feeling that there were no audit spots
available. Hell, there was probably a waiting list--a long,
long waiting list of female students who wanted to be
dazzled by his...knowledge.
He stood then, saying something to the women so that they
turned and glowered at Storm before moving away from the
booth. Storm's heart skipped a beat then raced when his
smile reached out and stroked her from the inside out,
reaching deep and brushing against every erogenous zone she
possessed in the process.
"I took the liberty of ordering a glass of wine for you," he
said when she got to the table. His hand enclosed hers, not
shaking it as she'd intended, but bringing it to his mouth
instead and brushing his lips against her knuckles.
For a shimmering instant Storm was dazzled, unable to look
away as the golden haze of lust surrounded them both. And
then his mouth quirked upward in the same smile that had
caused her heart to race when she'd visited him in his
office, only here, now, it eased them from staring into each
other's eyes into taking their seats.
"Thanks again for being willing to help," Storm said,
retreating behind the case before she did something out of
character--like suggest they walk on the beach until they
found a place where they could make love.
She took a deep breath and corrected herself. Have sex.
Let's not confuse fantasy with reality here. Her cunt
clenched, not caring what she called it, as long as the ache
was soothed.
A waitress appeared next to the table, barely acknowledging
Storm as she set their drinks down. Even after Tristan had
placed several bills on her tray and told her to keep the
change, she lingered, her presence like a crisp fall breeze
that clears the air as it passes.
Storm blinked, grateful for the interruption. Of its own
accord, her hand covered the necklace Aislinn had given her
where it rested under her shirt.
It burned warm and comforting in her palm, but more
importantly, the feel of the smooth male faeries holding the
crystal somehow grounded her, somehow made her feel...back
in control--even if she was still horny.
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