Everyone will know. Everyone will see.

Malia was sure that it was written and stamped on her forehead.

I. Slept. With. Zephyr. Donovan.

But all around her, her classmates moved into their seats as if nothing was amiss. Becky even sat next to her and gave her the usual bitchy half-smile.

That morning, she’d left first. Zephyr had been passed out face-down on the bed. And it hadn’t exactly been sneaking out, but she’d been extra careful not to wake him. The weekend had passed in a blissful state of entanglements and whispered words, but today—today was reality.

She could feel him the moment he walked into class. The tingle of heat along the nape of her neck—he was watching her. When he walked down the lecture room steps past her row to the free seats three rows ahead, she couldn’t help but watch the show. Next to her, Becky moaned. “I swear it’s like he’s teasing me.”

Malia sneered at her. But Becky wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t fair that he ran around just being that good-looking. He had no right honestly. And that ass, she’d seen it bare, walking around the apartment all weekend. Usually before he noticed her watching him and then he’d scoop her up and drag her off to the bedroom.

Stop it. That is not helping the situation. That night, this weekend, in the clear light of day now, she was having serious second thoughts. She couldn’t keep doing this with him. And despite him telling her to calm down—that this could be not a big deal, no need for her to freak out—she was totally freaking out. Someone was going to find out.

While she didn’t want to take a step back, she needed to. It was safer. Better. God, she was going to miss his hands on her body. And the way he whispered her name just before he came.

She shook herself out of her reverie. Stupid. You’re so stupid. They were going to have a conversation. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t pretend. Pretend that she didn’t want him. She was going to have to call Emily and ask for all kinds of favors. There had to be someone on all of campus with a free couch.

All through class, she couldn’t help but stare at him. The class was about halfway over when her phone buzzed. She reached into her backpack and pulled it out, held it against her leg, and checked her messages. Zephyr.

Zephyr: Stop staring at me. I can feel your eyes on the back of my neck. I’ve had a hard-on all class.

Malia tapped out the message back.

Malia: You can’t say that to me. We’re in class.

Zephyr: No one knows we’re texting each other. That makes it even hotter. Are you still thinking about my tongue on your clit?

She was.

Malia: Oh my God. Stop it.

She deliberately turned off her phone and shoved it back into her backpack.

Never mind that she was squirming in her seat right now. No doubt she was wet. Jackass. He’d done this to her. This was all his fault.

When it reached the time for each of the fellows to stand up and give their presentations, she forced her brain to function—to focus—to take copious notes until it was Zephyr’s turn.

She would have to get notes from him later because she couldn’t think of a damn thing. All she could do was watch his hands and remember how they’d touched her—watch his lips and remember where he’d kissed her. She was completely useless.

At the end of class, she packed up like her classmates and pulled out her phone. When she turned it back on, she gasped.

Becky looked up with a frown. “What’s wrong?” Not that Becky gave a shit about her. Malia shook her head and then glanced at her text again.

Zephyr: I keep imagining you faced own on Professor Lipten’s desk with me behind you and fucking you until you scream my name. I wonder what the rest of the class would think of that.

Shit. No, they couldn’t do this, especially since she could no longer focus. He was going to fuck her right into flunking this course. That was not part of the plan.

They were definitely having a conversation about this.

She walked right up to him. “Zephyr, I’d like to speak to you please.”

He nodded, his frown marring his normally perfect forehead. He indicated the exit. “I have office hours now if you want.”

She nodded. “Yup, that works fine.”

They walked amidst the sea of students, not speaking a word to each other. The elevator up to the faculty floor was packed with students. Even in the somewhat anonymousness of the elevator he didn’t touch her. When they reached the faculty floor, he led her down to what the students affectionately referred to as the dungeon hallway.

It was where all the fellows had their miniscule offices. They were even given their own executive assistant. The hall was mostly deserted. Only one or two other fellows were in their offices at the time. It made sense, seeing as the classes were going on right now. Most would do their office hours in the evening when everyone else was free and available.

His office was tucked further away from all the others, and she expected him to take her down the hallway and around the corner, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled her cheerfully to the left into another room and closed the door behind them. He flipped the lock and she blinked. It was pitch-black. She couldn’t see a thing. “Zephyr, what the hell?”

He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You’re panicking.”

Of course she was. “Yes. Yes I am.”

“We talked about this. We’ve made a choice.”

“Yes, we’ve made a choice, and I’m going back on it. It was complete and total hubris. What we’re doing is reckless and stupid and going to get both of us kicked out of this program.”

His breath was hot on her ear, and she couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. She was speaking sense. She had to be speaking sense. Why didn’t he see that? Why wasn’t he paying attention to that?

“Okay, we’ll stop. Just tell me that you don’t want this, that you don’t want me, that you’re not just as desperate right now for me as I am for you. Then we’ll stop.”

“Zephyr please. This is—What room is this? Why aren’t we in your office?”

“We’re not in my office because Professor Adamson needed to borrow it. His flooded last week, and I know he’s got office hours.”

“Shit, we should just have this conversation back at the apartment. Moreover, I think I need to find a new place—”

She didn’t get to finish what she was saying because his mouth was on hers, hot and slick, his tongue sliding over hers, pulling her into the dark abyss of need, and want, and longing. A place she knew she couldn’t climb out of.

Because she wanted this too much—wanted him too much.

He broke the kiss and dropped his forehead to hers. “Just tell me. Tell me you don’t feel that. If you can tell me that, we’ll stop. You just say the word.”

He had her there, because he knew she couldn’t say it.

She forced her shoulders to relax. Too bad that was easier said than done. She could literally feel everything about Zephyr. His breath, his body, his tension, and his hands, which settled just above her hips.

Her body screamed for them to do more than just sit on her waist. Her mind screamed warnings. She compelled her brain to force-quit the alarm. That was, of course, until she felt the hard length of him butting up against her. She sucked in another breath. He bit out a low curse through clenched teeth as his hands tightened imperceptibly.

He tried to move, but that only made it worse, brushing the hard length of him against her abdomen some more. This time she joined him in the cursing. His spicy scent enveloped her, and her mouth went dry.

He mumbled something that sounded like an apology. She couldn’t be sure, as he said it through clenched teeth. “I can feel you trying to run away.”

“I don't see what choice I have.”

Her eyes adjusted, and he licked his lips. “Just say the words, Malia. Say you don’t feel it, and we can go back to pretending. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I can do it.”

“I—”

“This isn’t easy for me either. You’re the one person I can’t have. And you're the only one I want. Put us both out of our misery and say the words because I’m not strong enough to stop. Not now. Not when I know what it can be like.”

That wasn't fair. She didn’t want to make the decision. She was tired of working so hard. She would not cry, though tears pricked her eyelids. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His arms went around her and it was almost worse. There was also no hiding her response to him as her nipples pressed into his shirt.

He held her head to his chest and stroked the back of her head, still hushing her, still in comfort mode. Until she breathed into his neck. She felt the instant change in him. The tension creeping into his shoulders. The way his hands tightened on her waist. The low rumble in his chest. The hardening of his dick against her. She knew the kiss was coming even before he dipped his head. “Say the words, Malia. Otherwise I’m going to show you why this is worth the risk to me.”

She knew what she should say … but she couldn’t. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

When his lips met hers, it was all she could do not to climb all over him. His lips were soft at first, undemanding. Subtle. Then he angled his head and deepened the kiss. His tongue crept in to meet hers. It teased hers into a dance. Tasting, stroking, and begging for an answer. And the answer was heat and sex and need. God, the guy could kiss. She moved against him, needing get closer. Her hips rocked against his and he growled.

“You keep doing that, and I’m burying myself inside you.”

Zephyr shifted their position, and Malia found her ribcage pressed up against a cabinet in the minuscule closet space. She held her breath as voices right outside drew nearer.

His hands tightened at her waist in silent warning not to make a sound, and they strained to listen, but the voices were too muffled.

When his hands loosened then tightened on her hips again, her stomach contracted. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ward off the sensations. She shifted in an effort to create more space between them, but all she managed to do was bring herself closer to Zephyr—all of Zephyr.

He leaned over her back and his muttered “Fuck” was the hottest thing she’d heard him say today.

The things this man could do to her body by barely touching her. All she could do was brace herself against the cabinet in front of her. She rolled her head forward, exposing the back of her neck.

She held her breath as she felt the telltale sign of his arousal nudging against her insistently. God, he picked a hell of a time. Her heart thudded in her chest, and her brain was conflicted.

They couldn’t do this here. Though, her body was in no mood to listen to her brain. Why did the one man who could make her feel this way have to be Zephyr? This was headed for disaster.

She shifted some more, trying to alleviate the throbbing ache between her legs. His hands paused just under her breasts. It was all she could do not to put them on her breasts herself. He beat her to it and gently rubbed her nipples with his thumbs. “I can’t stop touching you.”

Body on fire, she rolled her hips again. What the hell was wrong with her?

Her nipples had started to tingle and pebbled into hard peaks. Her thighs quaked with the force of her arousal. Her bones had taken on a jelly consistency.

Zephyr slid a hand into her leggings and his fingers and found her wet. He inserted one impossibly long finger into the silken heat and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. To reward her silence, one finger was joined by another, sliding into her. All the while his thumb stroked her clit

In a breath, the voices drew nearer. Both of them held completely still, save his moving fingers.

* * *

Zephyr tried to find his fucking sanity. But she was so damn soft and tight. His brain gave the command to stop, but his hand hadn’t listened.

When she rolled her head forward, it had been a mistake to kiss the exposed skin of her neck. She shuddered and heat rushed through him as her slickness coated his fingers. She was so fucking responsive. And here he was, so desperate to have her he would take any risk.

He made a feeble attempt to gain control of the situation. Control is all I need. All he had to do was remove his fingers. The hell that was happening.

“Zephyr,” Her breath came out choppy. “We need to stop.”

She was speaking sense. Total sense. All he had to do was stop touching her. Not gonna happen. “Fuck. I know. I know.”

“You’re the one torturing me.”

Him? All during class, he’d felt the heat of her stare. “Tell me you want me.” He was relentless. He kept stroking until her knees buckled.

A soft “I want you,” came out on a breath. “I just think this is too risky.”

Zephyr didn’t ease up on his caresses. His breathing was as choppy as hers. He felt her quake. His own whispers sounded harsh to his ears.

“Malia.”

“Mmm.” He felt her tense, nearing her climax.

“Sweetheart.” His fingers were dripping from her response.

“Oh, G—”

He clamped his free hand over her mouth gently. “That’s it, sweetheart. Come on.” His breath was ragged. “Let. Go. For. Me.”

“I wa—”

“I know.” He throbbed in his jeans.

Her last breathy sigh of his name was like music to his ears. “Ze—phyr.” She melted like butter in his arms.

In a swift motion, he removed his belt and shoved down her leggings. With a series of contortions, he had a condom out and his jeans shoved down around his ankles.

He fumbled with the foil packet he’d rescued from his wallet and shoved aside the flimsy material of her thong. And then, without preamble, he lined up the head of his cock to her folds and slid in to the hilt, making her groan.

For moments, he stayed just like that, relishing the feeling, her inner muscles tightening and massaging the length of him. Those sexy, mewling sounds from deep in her throat that revealed she was close to coming began again and they were music to his ears. When he stroked the tip of her nipple, she gasped out his name again as her whole body quaked in his arms.

Taking his cue, he began to slide inch by inch of his cock out of her until he was nearly completely out. Then slid deep as he could go, slowly building tension.

“Malia—” he warned. She tightened around his pulsing cock. And he cursed.

With ragged breaths, she pushed back in time to his rocking. Once again, he felt the pulsing and quivering around his pulsing dick as she pushed herself flush against him. His climax wasn’t far behind hers. With three long strokes, he exploded, certain his body would come apart at the seams.

She was going to kill him.