Professor Cline: Redeemed (Professor #2) (12 page)

Mel laughed. “And what did you find out.” She was completely enthralled.

Pushing my sandwich aside, I dove into the story. “Well, apparently Mason’s been sleeping with Rachel, and she was there to tell him he was the father of her baby.”

Mel gasped and I laughed.

“I know, but hold on. It’s like a fucking soap opera. So then, Mason basically laughs at her because he had a vasectomy years ago and can’t have kids. And apparently John can’t have kids, either.”

“So, was she lying?”

I shook my head. “She had an affair with Donicko and got pregnant.”

Mel had her sandwich halfway to her mouth but stopped and stared at me before lowering it to the table. She looked dejected as she wiped at her mouth and took a drink of water.

“Are you sure you heard them right?”

I regarded her suspiciously and nodded. “Oh, it was pretty clear. I didn’t stay for the rest of the conversation, but she definitely said he was the daddy. Mason practically forced it out of her.”

She let out a sigh and tossed her napkin on the table before standing up.

“Well, there goes that.”

Confusion was clearly evident on my face.

“There goes what?”

She let out another sigh and rubbed a hand over her forehead. “We’ve been together a few times.”

If I’d had water in my mouth, I’d have spewed it all over the floor.

“Eww, Mel. God, does he have a hoard of woman playing ‘ring around the dick’ or something? He’s, like, older than Dad, Mel. That’s so gross.”

“Eww, no, he’s not. Don’t even make that comparison.”

“Mel, he’d have to be in his late fifties or something. Yeah, he’s a good-looking older guy, but, eh, how could you go there?”

She laughed. “He’s a really sweet guy and man, he’s got this power and dominant thing going on. He’s a turn-on. And when he’s got it aimed at you, it’s hard to resist.”

I tried to hide my lip curling up in disgust, but I didn’t think I was doing a good job.

“Well, try harder from now on, will ya?”

We both laughed.

“I’m going to be looking at you in a completely different way now. Gross.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re screwing your professor. What’s the difference?”

“Um, hello? Mason is way younger and hotter.”

“Whatever.”

We chatted and finished our lunch, but things began to get hectic with her phone continuously ringing, so instead of staying around to bug her, I decided to leave. I grabbed my things and gave her a hug before heading out.

I needed to get home anyway to go over everything we’d discussed in class. Since the substitute had no idea what he was actually teaching, it was up to me to make sure I knew the proper material.

After grabbing a cab and getting back to the apartment, I plopped down on the couch and rested my head. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift to Mason and the way he’d played my body the night before.

I began to wonder if he’d ever let a woman take control. Probably not. I’d learned a lot from him with the few questions I’d asked him. He’d probably always had sex with some type of blindfold in order to keep his scars hidden, so a woman wouldn’t be able to be in control. He was always the enforcer.

I wondered what he’d do if I tried to take over. I didn’t think he’d push me away, but I wasn’t sure he’d be willing to try, either. But there was only one way to find out.

Grabbing my phone, I pulled up Mason’s number and sent him a text.

Me: You busy tonight?

I reached into my bag, pulled my books out, and set them on the table just as my phone chimed with a text.

Mason: Yes

I sat back on the couch and stared at his reply. I knew I wasn’t the only woman in the world who hated to receive short, vague answers. This ‘yes’ could mean so many different things. Yes, he was busy working. Yes, he was busy with his friends. Yes, he was busy fucking another woman. Why does the mind have to work in overdrive at these kinds of responses, and why do men have to be so damn vague?

Me: Oh, okay. Never mind.

What else could I respond with after a one-word reply? Ugh.

Grabbing my notebook off the table, I flipped it open to the lesson notes I needed to go over.

Contract law. This was Mel’s specialty.
Maybe I should just wait until she comes home and have her go over some of the things I don’t understand.
Then I could binge watch
House of Cards
on Netflix since I was so behind.

Deciding that would be the best way to spend the rest of my afternoon, I tossed my notebook back onto the table and grabbed the remote. I turned on the TV with built-in Netflix, an awesome feature, and pulled up my show. Just as I clicked to start an episode, my phone chimed with a text.

Mason: I believe a sexy, auburn-haired beauty was going to come over and show me something.

Me: Oh, yeah? You must be pretty lucky.

I replied with a smile.

Mason: I’d say I hit the jackpot.

Me: And what exactly is this beauty supposed to show you?

Mason: I’m sure it had to do with taking off her clothes.

I giggled at his response. Mason wasn’t much of a flirt. He was too intense to be flirty, but I could definitely get used to a few texts along those lines.

Me: Well, it sounds to me like you have a promising night ahead of you.

Mason: Indeed, I do.

Mason: 8pm. Be ready.

I smiled to myself and bit my lip as I held the phone to my chest. I was glad I’d decided not to study just yet, because my mind was going a mile a minute thinking about all the things that would happen that evening.

Setting the phone down, I laid back on the couch and watched my show. I was sure catching up on all of the episodes would take up most of the afternoon and time would go by faster.

Mason

“Are you telling me you’re pussy-whipped?”

I shook my head at Luke.

“That’s not what I said, asshole.”

Luke laughed before taking a swig of his beer. I’d come to his house a few hours before to talk some things out. I needed to talk to someone who’d had experience in the relationship department. Even though Luke hadn’t had one in a long time, he’d still had a serious one back in college.

“Look, Mase, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s been a long time for me, but I do know girls love attention and affection. You do those two things and you can’t go wrong.”

I stared at the wall and chugged my beer.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the problem.”

“What? The attention or affection part.”

“Affection. I’m not an affectionate guy.”

Luke laughed. “Of course you are. You like to fuck, don’t you?”

That was probably why Luke hadn’t had very many relationships.

“There’s a big difference between fucking and cuddling.”

"No, that's where you're wrong, my friend. You cuddle while you fuck. Kill two birds with one stone."

"I have a feeling this is why your relationships don't last."

Luke laughed.

"I'm pretty sure that’s because I'm not a monogamous kind of guy."

Monogamous. Fucking one girl for a long period of time. The idea never seemed to appeal to me until the thought of Emma fucking another man sent rage through my core.

"Oh, man. You've got it bad, don't you?" I looked up to see Luke smiling at me, and I furrowed my brow at him. "You just got lost in la la land. So, when do I get to meet this girl who has you wrapped around her finger?"

I placed my empty beer bottle on the table and flipped Luke the bird, causing him to laugh. He was out of his mind if he thought I was whipped, but I had to admit the sound of it didn't make me cringe.

"You're the last person I'd ever want her to meet."

Luke threw his head back in laughter that time. "Are you afraid she'd see the error of her ways and realize she went after the wrong guy?"

"Not likely, asshole."

Luke rose from the couch and headed to the kitchen. "You want another beer?" he shouted to me.

"Sure."

He came back and handed me a bottle before taking a seat. "Honestly, man, all bullshitting aside, I'm happy for you. It's good to see you smiling. I was beginning to think that crease between your eyes was the only expression your face could display."

I chuckled. I needed his nonsense to get my brain on track.

"Is it crazy that she makes me feel like I can open up to her? I don't even know her, and yet I'm so drawn to her. I'm like a moth to her flame, and it doesn't exactly make me feel light and fluffy."

"You need that man, seriously. With everything you hold inside, getting things out would be best for you. But as your friend, I'll only say one thing: be cautious. I know how callous these women can be. I'm not saying she is, but you have a lot of shit going on inside that head of yours. Shit she'd probably never understand. Shit that would probably scare her away. Just make sure you really want your shit out there before you open your mouth."

I leaned forward and placed my head in my hands. I didn't have to open my mouth and tell her anything. She'd seen it. There was no need to explain anything.

"She's already seen my scars."

I dropped my hands and looked up to meet Luke's gaze. He seemed surprised because he knew my sexual preferences. He was the only one who had seen my scars.

"And?"

I shrugged. "And nothing. At first, her reaction was what I figured one would be. She had questions. I gave her the same answers I gave you, but she's the kind of person who wants to make things better. She's just like you, actually," I stated, giving Luke a smile. "She wants to help me. The thought pisses me off, but then again, it makes me more possessive over her." I let out a sigh. "All of this is fucking me up."

"The only thing I can suggest is go with the flow, Mase. I know it won't be easy for you, but you've got to move on with your life. You deserve to be happy and if she can make you happy, then let her. Don't push something away because it's not what you're used to."

I stared off, looking at nothing in particular as I let his words sink in. I knew he was right, but it all went back to the things I held secret. There was so much that weighed down on my soul. So many things that came back to haunt me. I knew going to Victor would be my first step. It was the only way I could make John pay. Donicko was another story. I knew deep down there was no way for me to do anything to him. He would continue on with his malicious work, and that dark piece of me would always remain.

The question was could I live with myself knowing I'd scar others with my past?

"When do you see her again?" Luke asked, jarring me from my inner thoughts.

"Tonight."

"Okay, well, until then," he started, throwing me a game remote. "Let's get your mind off shit and kill things."

I laughed and picked up the controller. This wasn't my usual way of dealing with things, but I could see the appeal. I couldn't kill John or Donicko in real life, but this way, I could imagine I was.

After a few hours, I decided to go home. Carlos would be picking up Emma soon, and I wanted plenty of time to shower and wind down.

When I arrived home, I pulled my phone from my pocket and turned my ringer back on before noticing a text from an unknown number.

6pm tomorrow. Come to the manor. You should remember where it is. - D

Flashes of that monstrosity came back to me. Donicko's house. It was a place I vowed I'd never enter again. A place where the devil did his dirty work. Why would he want me to come there, and why after all this time?

I didn't know what he was playing at and I didn't want to find out, but this was where things got tricky. If I didn't do as he asked, how did I know he wouldn't do something to punish me? I wasn't a stranger to his acts of violence. I'd seen my share in my youth, and the fact that he knew about Emma only made things worse for me. I would go the following night, but only to see what he wanted and to finally tell him once and for all to leave me the fuck alone. I owed him nothing.

Walking up the stairs, I headed to my bathroom and stripped off my clothes. I needed to get into the right mindset before Emma arrived, but my thoughts were in the past. I hated that despair that washed over me. It attached itself to me like a parasite, and there was only one way to get rid of it.

Standing in front of the mirror, I looked at myself.
This is what Emma saw. A broken man. A man with no control over his own urges.

Reaching down, I pulled open the drawer and grabbed my razor. After Luke had stitched me up that night, I'd made a decision not to cut myself again, but deep down I knew my words were futile. That’s why I'd replaced the dull razor with a new one.

I stared at it, the light gleaming off the metal. An object that bled my sins away, absolving me from my wrong-doings. One cut would make it all go away, if only for a matter of time.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and bowed my head.

Emma's face entered my mind.

Emma would be there in a matter of minutes. I couldn't cut myself. I couldn't do what came so naturally to me. Hiding it from her was no longer an option.

Dropping the razor back into the drawer, I turned away from my absolution and buried the darkness once again.

Last night, Emma asked me to use her, so using her is exactly what I’ll do.

I showered and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt just in time to answer the door.

"Good evening, Ms. Blake," I greeted her.

Without a word, Emma walked in, beautiful as usual in a light pink sundress. She headed straight into the living space to the right.

I frowned as I watched her disappear and closed the front door to follow behind her. When I walked into the room, I stopped in my tracks as I took her in. She stood there in nothing but her white lace bra, matching panties, and black heels. I smirked as my eyes traveled up and down her body and absorbed the image into memory.

"No talking tonight, I presume?" I asked, raising a brow.

She smirked and bit her lip, taking a few steps toward me.

“No talking,” she stated as she came to a stop in front of me.

I wasn't sure what to expect when she looked down my body, but her dropping to her knees like a fucking goddess wasn't it.

Her auburn hair flowed down in waves on her back, and her hazel eyes filled with lust. All I could do in that moment was stare at her with admiration, shock, and desire.
This is my fucking fantasy made into real life.
She grabbed my waistband, undid the button and unzipped my fly.

Working meticulously on getting my pants down, I smirked at her efforts. She didn't look up at me to gage my reaction to her seductive display, and I wasn't sure if it was from utter concentration or shyness.

Once my pants were out of the way, that anxious feeling took over. My dick was hard as a rock in anticipation of what was to come, tenting my boxers that she'd failed to take down along with my pants, but that itching need to take cover was over-powering.

I clenched and unclenched my hands as I looked down at her, sitting back on her heels.

"If you want me to stop, I'll stop," she offered as she ran her hands up and down my calves. "But I want you to know that I've been thinking about this all day." She diverted her eyes to my cock, which was level with her face.

Just that sight alone had me wanting to pull my dick free and slam it down her throat. A type of violence I'd never display with her, but being as worked-up as I was, it would be impossible for me to stop.

I knew what she was doing, this display of power. She was taking control, and a part of me loved it. I'd never had someone take the reins. I'd never
wanted
someone to take it. But with Emma sitting right there, the image I'd had so many times while jacking off, I wasn't sure I could make her get up.

"And what are you planning on doing, princess?"

She smirked at me as she sat up from her heels and lifted her hands to grab onto the band of my boxers. We gazed at each other as seconds passed, and I could feel the sweat forming on my skin. I expected her to take them off, but she didn't. She waited, gauging my reaction. It was almost too much. She knew this would be hard for me, and yet she was trying to get me to break from my shell.

Did I
want
to break from my shell? Did I want to expose myself? She was eye level with my scars, the demon I held inside. She’d see my mutilated flesh up close, and realized just how fucked-up I truly was. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ran away in disgust.

Keeping eye contact, I nodded to her as a way of giving her permission to expose my flesh.

As she pulled them down, I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. I waited for her to gasp or scream at the sight. Something.

What I wasn't expecting was to feel her warm lips on my skin as she grabbed onto my cock.

I inhaled deeply and looked down at her, taking a small step back. My instinct was to push her away. I could feel the rage trying to build up. So many thoughts were going through my head at the sight of her gazing up at me after kissing one of my scars.

Who the hell does she think she is?

Does she think she can heal me?

She'll poison herself being so close to the one place I release my tainted blood.

So many thoughts, but I did nothing. I stood there and waited for her next move. She looked up at me, pleading with her eyes. I could tell she was nervous. She didn't know what to expect from me, and that was good. She needed to be wary, because I didn't know what to expect from myself, either.

I lifted a hand and ran my fingers down her cheek. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

She leaned into my palm, but I dropped it as I waited for her reply. I wanted to see how confident she really was. This was her game.

The hand wrapped around my cock started to move, and I smiled down at her.

"Yes, I know what I'm doing. The question is, do you?"

She leaned into me, keeping eye contact, and pressed her warm lips to my scars once again.

I stared at her skin connecting with mine and furrowed my brow. My hand lifted and went directly to her hair, bunching it into my fist.

"Careful, princess. All the kisses in the world couldn't take away the evil that mars my skin."

"No," she stated, keeping her eyes on mine. "But I can still try."

I looked down at her as she moved her hand up and down my cock, taking her time kissing my scars. I kept my hand tangled in her hair and clenched my teeth with every scar those beautiful lips kissed. I knew she felt like she needed to do this, to show me she accepted my scars, but the fact was nothing would help. I appreciated her attempt, but signs of affection wouldn't overshadow what I'd done. They would always be reminders of my past.