What made Dean Heech think he could touch me like that?

The clothes? He did mention them . . . but that gave no man, no one, the right to touch a female like that.

Still, I couldn't stop the tears leaking from my eyes. First, it was Ms. Hawthorne, then the dean, then the threat to my education.

Screw it all. I didn't need this. What was the point of pursuing something so toxic? That degree only brought me pain and heartache.

Alison burst into the room and saw me in a messy ball under my sheets, huddled against the corner of my bed.

"Cecilia!" she cried, sliding onto my bed. "What happened? Tell me!" she demanded. "It wasn't Professor Dent, wasn’t it? I swear to God, I'll have Daddy all over this!"

She held my shoulders and tried to rock me back to earth.

"No." I sniffled. "Not him. Not him."

"Tell me! Who then? Come on, you can't let people do this to you. I'm your friend. I can help and kick ass."

I buried my head back into my knees and took some time to breathe.

My parents would be devastated if I dropped out. But then, there wasn't a promise that I'd find a good job with that degree either. The painful truth I'd seen with higher education was that it was an expensive gamble.

Alison would be fine. Her daddy had connections, but me? Who was I?

Just a random girl trying to find her way in life and make money.

But it wasn't going to be as simple as that. I had problems now, and those problems were threatening to land me behind a deep fryer, making French fries and flipping hamburgers for life.

"Alison," I said, getting the energy to speak. "It's complicated, but if I tell you something, will you keep it a secret?"

"Sure! We've been friends since our last year of high school. Nothing's changed. I'll hold it to my chest, even through the afterlife."

I wiped my eyes and Alison held up some napkins so I could wipe my nose. My whole body still shook as a humid heat enveloped me and made me perspire.

"I'm in love with the pre-cal teacher. And there's a jealous woman who wants to ruin that." I was right at the beginning of telling her about the dean, but that was too much to talk about at the same time.

"A jealous woman, huh? Damn. Damn it, Cecilia. If you two get caught, that could spell bad news," she cautioned. "Is it really love?"

I nodded my head. George Dent was made up of nothing but love. He protected me, sheltered me, healed my scrapes, and spoiled me.

"So, that bag of expensive lingerie and vibrators was from him, wasn't it?" she asked, chuckling.

"Yeah," I mumbled into my knees.

"Ooh, kinky. Look at my innocent Cecilia." She gasped. "Oh, my God, does that mean he popped your cherry?"

I hushed her down, and she apologized. "But did he?" she whispered.

"No, not yet."

"Huh, protective and patient. Nice mix. Jealous of you, big time. You scored an older man who's a keeper. I spoke to him in his car—"

I popped my head up. "Wait, what? You did what?"

Alison gave me a goofy 'oh, shit, said too much' grin.

"I saw you with him and you were crying. So I followed him to his car and . . . um. Made him admit . . ." Alison twiddled her forefingers together with a wide grin.

"Alison!"

"Look, he got on my case and I got on his. I think he's good to go. But I couldn't avoid talking to him, you know?"

I sighed and let it go. I knew she didn't mean any harm. But I didn't want to bring other people into this madness.

"So, the jealous woman?"

"I just want to take a walk," I said, scooting out of bed.

"Let me come—"

"No, I'm good." I took my small purse and went outside.

"If you don't call me in two hours, I'm going to freak out."

"Make it three, please," I said, lifting three fingers up.

Alison pouted. "Fine."

The sky clouded over and it was cooler now.

I could've taken this opportunity to go to the police or anything. But all I could do was walk aimlessly.

I stared at the sky like it was going to give me an answer, then I followed the ground like I could avoid being seen.

It was safe to say.

I was over.

Over the law degree.

I was at the edge of campus when a car sped by me, almost hitting me. Too bad I didn't get a face, though inside, I already knew. It was probably Ms. Hawthorne.

Then something black was whipped around my eyes and I was pulled back into what felt and sounded like a truck or van.

Before I could scream, they gagged my mouth and tied me up.

"Go!" a man shouted. Oh, God, where were they taking me? What was going to happen to me? I struggled against the cloth around my wrists and ankles, but two firm hands were on my shoulders, keeping me in place.

"That was easy," another man said. "He owes us big time for this. He must really like this one."

What were they talking about? Dean Heech? Oh, shit, he had someone kidnap me?

I tried to bump around to cause a commotion, but another pair of hands held my ankles down. The surrounding blackness made the hair on my neck stand up.

I couldn't see if they were going to stab, punch, or even kill me.

The vehicle rattled and bumped, but I could tell it wasn’t on the highway because it didn’t feel like we were going that fast. Ten grueling minutes later, the vehicle stopped, and I was hauled into an elevator and taken somewhere.

Then the blindfold came off, and who did I see?

George Dent. He handed the men a stack of bills and they walked out.

"George? You had me kidnapped?"

Heat shot up to my forehead and my fists shook.

“Cecilia, please, I was very worried. You wouldn’t talk to me. So, I had you brought here. I need you to feel safe.”

I jumped off the couch. “But that scared me!”

“And so did seeing you cry and not knowing why,” he bit back.

That could’ve ended in a bad way. But now that I knew it was George, some of the tension slid off my back and I was able to catch my breath.

George ushered me to where my guest room was and made a warm bath for me.

“I’m sorry—very sorry—that I scared you.”

I looked away from him and bit my lower lip.

I stared at the bubbles foaming upward, sending a fruity mango and passionfruit smell through the air. George stood back up from testing the water and placed his hands on my shoulders for a nice shoulder massage.

“I still want to know what made you upset today,” he said.

His fingers were doing real magic. The tension in my muscles and shoulders was massive. It was like he was tenderizing hard putty.

George did all of that to find me and get me to his place?

Now that I had time to cool off and think more rationally, I realized that all he wanted was for me to be safe and under his wing. Yeah, he used an odd method in doing so, but I wasn’t hurt. I turned around and clung to his chest.

“I don’t want a bath,” I whispered.

“What is it you want, darling?” he asked, stroking my hair.

My lips quivered, but I dared to say it. “You.”

George took me off my feet and carried me back to his room. The bubble bath was abandoned. For now. I was sure we'd get back to it after we were done with being messy.

I enjoyed feeling that welcoming plushy carpet under my toes again. This place had become my new home.

There was protection here.

Love.

And, well, everything.

That calm warming effect that would blossom through your chest and make you smile was only possible when I was with him. And now, I was going to fully embrace that.

George's bed was a king-sized bed with a gray and green color scheme. Manly, just like him. That wonderful mix of spice and sandalwood cologne was everywhere. It made my head spin.

He took me by the hips and sat me down on his bed.

Though I couldn't bear to tell him the whole truth, I did want to tell him something.

"Ms. Hawthorne, she said some nasty things about me today. She knows about—" George stopped me with that finger to his lips again.

"Shh, no worrying. I figured she had said something to you. I told her not to bother you again. But what I want to know is what the dean did."

"George," I whined.

"Cecilia, you get no orgasms without the truth."

I hopped off his bed, annoyed, and marched out to the living room. He stayed on my heels.

"It was nothing," I lied.

"It was something. Ms. Hawthorne doesn't make you cry. Men with wandering hands might."

How could he see through me so easily?

Fine. He was going to find out one way or another.

“All right! Yeah, he had wandering hands. He placed them on my thigh, okay? Happy to know now?”

“I’m not happy. Very far from it. I assure you, he’ll—”

I put my hand up. “Wait, just stop right there. You seem like such a gentle guy, George, yet you were able to have me brought here like some criminal mastermind. Don’t go off trying to get revenge. Please. I don’t like how messy things are right now. Can we let it go?”

“Let it go?” He rubbed his chin. “You really want that? No justice?”

“George, please.”

He got all the way up to me and grabbed me in for a kiss. I loved the way his stubble scratched my chin as we tasted each other hungrily.

It sent shocks down to my pussy and I knew it was time to officially lose the pure and innocent virgin status.

I hopped onto him and gripped him with my legs. His crotch was swollen and protruding out from his pants. That delicious hard bump rubbed against my mound as I straddled him to deepen our kiss.

Yes, this was the only man who had the permission to touch me. And he was going to touch me in the most intimate way. We ended up back in his bedroom, and this time, we were ripping at each other’s shirt and pants, ready to expose ourselves in the most vulnerable state. Or turned-on state.

George’s cock sprang out of his boxers like a spring once he took them off. It was bigger than what it had looked last time. Intense pussy shivers made me wet.

Reaching around me, he unclipped my bra and took off the lacy lingerie he bought me. My nipples were thick and crinkled up from the anticipation of his tongue or fingers.

He ran a hand over them and I threw my head back, lying down in his bed. That ticklish sensation made me damper by the second. He had me pooled in his hands.

George’s hands roamed my body, making sure everything was intact, making sure that I was supported and felt secure.

I did.

I felt very safe and secure.

My heart jumped through my chest like a happy rabbit as he drew his kisses down my neck to my collar bones, then to the hardened peaks of my breasts. The warm, soft moistness of his lips embraced one frozen nipple as he suckled gently.

Wetness ran down from my mound onto his bed. George’s hand slipped under and inside me carefully as he worked me to pure mush. Was the human body even able to take so much pleasure? I thought my bones were going to turn into goo. I thought I’d even black out.

But no, George kept me safe in his arms as he fondled and fingered me to oblivion. Each push of his hand took me over the edge. My entrance fluttered around him as he explored inside me. My toes curled and my back arched. He knew his way around my body as if it belonged to him . . . and it did. Oh, God, it did.

“George!” I breathed out, writhing under him.

“Your body responds to my touch perfectly,” he praised. His eyes rolled over my body like a gliding ball, taking in the sight of it, the heaving of my breasts and the distress of my body. More heat gathered in my cheeks under his scrutiny. Did I look weird contorting under him?

He went back to tending to my breasts and his treatment grew harsher. He nibbled and sucked the top of my nipples, causing me to gasp uncontrollably and grapple at the sheets under me. When did my nipples get so damn sensitive?

He moved to the other breast, licking around the nipple at its raised skin, winking at me. I giggled and gasped again when he sucked on my nipple, flicking it with his tongue.

My clit was so hard right now, and I knew he was too. His hand worked faster inside me, touching me in all the right places, but not the place.

He lifted off me to pepper more kisses over me. He drew my arms up and pinned them over my head.

“I need you to listen carefully, darling,” he whispered.

“Yes . . .”

“When I enter you, push. Don’t strain yourself around me. I don’t want to hurt you,” he instructed, running his hand from my chin down to my belly button.

“Keep your hands up. No touching,” he growled while he rubbed his cock against my lips. The touch of the slick skin and salty odd taste of his pre-cum made me shudder. Alison never told me about this.

He rubbed the head of his cock on my nipples, and my hands had to grip each other or else they would’ve flailed everywhere.

A trail of pre-cum was drawn down my body until he worked himself to my entrance.

Breathe.

Push against him.

George pulled my legs apart and opened my mound to look at the pussy he was going to deflower. I closed my eyes and felt him slide inside me. The sensation of his skin inside me sent convulsions through my body.

“G-George! It’s so big,” I whimpered, looking down at his impressive girth still working its way inside me. It was laden with veins and had lots of definition like a muscled arm.

As he pushed himself inside, I could feel each little crook of detail of his cock. I clenched, and George paused until I pushed again.

So gentle and responsible.

George’s stare lingered on my body as if he were looking at a math equation.

Then he arrived at the wall of my virginity.

“Tell me you want me to—”

“Yes! George, yes!” I moaned, bringing my shaking arms down on my chest. He was filling me up with his cock, stretching me.

One push, and he broke through it, sinking all the way in until he hit that infamous ‘G-spot’ I’ve heard Alison rave about so much. Fireworks went off in my head as I yelled his name. Hope the neighbors didn’t hear that.