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Davin
When he’d seen her through the window, carrying a tray of shots to the table in the corner, he’d almost turned and gone the other way. After all, he just wanted a beer. There were a dozen bars in this area and he didn’t need to walk into this one.
But he couldn’t help himself. Savannah Peterson was like a magnet. A magnet of fire, that wouldn’t seem to let him go no matter how much he knew he’d get burned. So he’d walked in. He’d taken off his jacket. And he’d caught her eye.
Fuck. She looked like she belonged here. Dark booths and sultry music. In fact, the only thing ruining the mood were the group of women in the corner acting like they were at a bachelorette party in Vegas. He was pretty sure he’d already seen more ass than he expected tonight.
And really, the only ass he wanted his eyes on was forbidden.
But, damn, she made it hard.
Savannah whispered something to the guy next to her at the bar, shook her head, then crossed her arms. Shit. She was probably trying to get the other guy to serve him.
Davin didn’t blame her. They were supposed to have a purely professional relationship, right?
He shifted in his seat. There was nothing professional about the way his cock twitched in his jeans. More than anything right now, he wanted to walk straight to Savannah, take her arm and lead her to her car.
He’d leave work and grades out of it—and he was sure she could too. It’d be purely physical. Purely pleasurable. And then…
Then what? He’d be screwed the next time he saw her class. Already, he barely thought of her in a scholarly way. Not with mile-long legs, a sexy tumble of curls, and clothes that fit her curves to a tee.
After another moment of arguing with the guy at the bar, Savannah turned in his direction. Her steps were sure, hips swaying to the beat of the music as she walked to his table.
“Professor Holmes,” she said.
Even her voice made him hard.
“Ms. Peterson. I didn’t realize you worked here.”
“Now you know.”
No wonder she’d acted like she didn’t want to redo the paper. Sure, he got that it was a hassle. But even more so if she had a job. He wondered how many hours she worked. The tired eyes made sense if she worked nights here.
“What’ll you have?” Savannah asked.
You. “Whatever’s on tap to start. And I’ll take a menu.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “You sure?”
“About whatever’s on tap or the menu?”
“I just figured you for a wine or whiskey kind of guy. I’ll get you that menu.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but she already turned and walked the other direction. What the hell was that supposed to mean? That he wasn’t predictable? Because he could handle that. He knew he was younger than the rest of the professors here and students didn’t look at him quite the same way.
Might as well keep up the mystery.
Savannah dropped off his menu and his beer, then frowned. “Sorry.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m…” She sighed and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “I’m sorry if I was…abrupt earlier today. I have a full weekend of shifts and I got a little snarky about the paper. Just because I’m tired doesn’t mean I need to take it out on you.”
“I understand.” He leaned back in the seat. “When are you off tonight?”
She checked her watch. “Twenty minutes. It’ll probably be the longest twenty minutes of my life, but at least I don’t have to work the night shift.”
He tapped his menu, deciding to go for it. “Have dinner with me.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Since you’re going to be busy this weekend with work, you’re going to have a tough time giving me the kind of paper I want. Have dinner with me, tell me your ideas, and we’ll reconsider the paper.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She considered this for a minute, and then nodded. “Okay. Twenty minutes. You want to order now or wait?”
“I’ll wait.”
And he didn’t mind one bit. From his booth, he could watch her deliver more shots to the table in the corner. He could watch her long legs eat up the floor as she hurried back and forth. He could see that tight ass and the way her hair brushed her shoulder blades. When he found himself growing hard, he gritted his teeth and opened his menu.
He was helping her out, doing her a favor. Nothing more.
But when Savannah’s shift finally ended and she joined him, he realized she was doing him the favor. He hadn’t wanted to eat alone, and if he wasn’t getting any tonight—as his sex life had been nearly non-existent the last few months—he’d at least get the company of a beautiful woman.
“Did you decide?” she asked, gesturing to his menu.
“I thought I’d let you suggest something. You probably know what’s best.”
She didn’t even touch the menu. “That I do. And a shot. I’m going to need one of those. Would you like a shot Professor Holmes? Sure you would,” she said before he could even answer.
And to his amusement, she got up and got them herself. But when she returned, she had four shot glasses instead of two.
“You’re going to need this,” she said, sitting down again, “because I’m about to blow your mind.”
His dick went rock hard. She was already halfway there. Just the simple word “blow” on her lips had him practically drooling. How the hell was he supposed to make it through a whole meal if she kept saying stuff like that?
Shots. He definitely needed those.
Savannah lifted hers. “To literature.”
He clinked his shot glass to hers with a laugh. “To literature.”
He downed his shot, then went for the next one at the same time she did. Their hands brushed, and neither pulled back. Her fingers were long, slender, and the nails painted a sultry red. The same as her mouth.
All he wanted right now was that fuck that mouth with his. To have her crying out his name as he licked her cunt. And now he had to talk about literature?
Savannah broke contact first, tossing back the next shot.
“Good thing you brought two each,” Davin said.
“We might need more before the night is through.”
“I’m in complete agreement for once.”