Page 27 of Cross My Heart
“Exactly.” He laughs in surprise. “Have dinner with me.”
Now I’m the surprised one. “What?” I ask, thrown.
“Dinner. Tomorrow night,” Saint continues, raking back his dark, tousled hair. “I know a great Italian place, here in town. It’s delicious, discreet… You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”
“You don’t know what I like,” I say, buying time. Dinner with him, like a real date? I try to picture us sitting across from one another in a restaurant, making small talk about our hobbies and families, when I already know how the muscles in his abdomen leap just before he comes.
Saint gives me a slow, molten smile. “Oh, I think I do, Tessa,” he says my name softly. Intimate.
The way he would murmur in my ear as he thrust deep inside.
“At least, I’ve had a glimpse of a few things,” he continues. “But I dare say you’re hiding a whole lot more. I’d like to find out. So, dinner?”
I’m tempted. Hell, everything about this man is tempting me to throw caution to the wind, and dive headlong into the world of illicit pleasure that he promises.
But he’s right. I am hiding something—from him, and everyone else here. And I can’t forget the real reason I’m in Oxford, not for one second.
“No thanks,” I tell him, giving a breezy smile. “The party was fun and all, but I don’t think it’s an experience that needs repeating. Been there, done that, you know? Anyway, I’ll see you in class next week.”
And then I turn and walk away. Straight back to my apartment to spend some quality time with my vibrator.
Chapter9
Saint
Be careful what you wish for…
The saying taunts me, as I go through the rest of my day on autopilot. Luckily, I just have a few essays to mark, and a lecture that I could deliver in my sleep, because my mind couldn’t be further away from the stuffy hall and all the students hanging off my every word.
No, my thoughts are back at that hotel, in that dim lounge, watching Tessa Peterson spread her thighs wider and bring herself to a gasping orgasm as I watched every move.
She was incredible. I’ve never seen a more captivating sight. Her flushed cheeks and wet, open lips; the spark of reckless pleasure in her eyes as she surrendered to the pleasure. Fuck, when she started touching her breasts, pinching her nipples through her dress and moaning out loud…
I couldn’t hold back a second longer. My climax ripped through me like a fucking tidal wave, spilling out of control as I watched her come undone.
That was my second surprise of the evening, after the delicious shock of recognizing my new student amongst the crowd. How she scored an invite, I can’t imagine. The parties are top-secret, and the most exclusive ticket in town—or even the world. Nobody knows how they make it onto the guestlist, not even me. But there she was, slipping through the crowd, those curious eyes searching out every detail of the sweaty, explicit scenery.
Lingering. Exploring.Savoring..
She didn’t hesitate, taking a seat to watch me with that woman. Her eyes burned into me, giving me a raw sexual thrill that I haven’t felt in years. A public scene like that is usually fun, but hardly novel to me now. But under her gaze, it felt brand new.
Ifelt brand new, as if I was experiencing every sensation for the first time.
Yes, Ms. Peterson is full of hidden talents—and one of them is clearly driving me out of my mind. I rarely lose control. I’m the instructor, the voice of experience. But that night at the party…
She was openingmyeyes, pushing me further, driving my pleasure higher with every illicit caress of her hands. I’m used to being one step ahead, but a single glimpse of the wicked passion that woman has lurking beneath her surface, and I already know I would follow Tessa wherever she chose.
Except she seems not to want the company.
I frown, reminded of her cold turn after burning so hot. First, she disappeared from the party before I could approach her, and now she’s acting like it was no big deal: just another Saturday night’s amusement, too insignificant to be repeated.
It’s an act—it has to be. The chemistry between us is impossible to deny, and our flirty, provocative banter in the seminar this morning makes me even more certain that we’re on the same page. My plan was simple: a romantic dinner date, an invitation back to mine for a nightcap… Soon enough, we would be picking up where we left off at the party. And this time, it wouldn’t just be her own hands caressing that gorgeous body, making her moan.
But as I’m coming to realize, this woman is anything but simple.
Luckily, I’m more than game for the challenge.
I finishup my teaching duties for the day, and then go to meet some buddies of mine at a private members’ bar in the old part of Oxford. We all attended college together here, years ago, and now they’re back for some alumni event, rubbing shoulders and reminiscing with old pals.