Spiral of Bliss 02 Allure (5 page)

Last semester, Maggie approached Liv to ask for help getting me to approve her proposal. When Liv refused, Maggie made some slanderous implications about my integrity. I wrote Maggie an email telling her I could no longer be her advisor. She never responded.

Until, I assume, now.

“I… er, I wanted to apologize, you know, for last semester.” Maggie’s face gets red. “It was really inappropriate for me to approach your wife like that.”

“Yes, it was. Have you turned in the paperwork to change advisors?”

She turns a beseeching gaze to me. “I don’t want to change advisors, Professor West. I can’t! I’ve already done all the coursework for Medieval Studies, and you’re the only medievalist on faculty right now.”

“We talked about this last semester, Maggie. Given our disagreements—”
and your damn lies
“—I can’t advise you any longer.”

“But my father is expecting me to graduate
this year
so I can start law school next year! I’m already scheduled to take the LSAT. If you stop advising me, I’ll have to go to Professor Hunter, and she’ll make me take a whole semester of coursework, plus summer school.”

“Professor Hunter won’t
make
you do anything, Maggie. This university has specific requirements for graduation. No one is exempt from them. Not even you.”

Her head jerks up. She glares at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. No one is exempt from the requirements.”

“I never said I was!”

“Good, then you know what you need to do.”

“Look, Professor West, I don’t think I have a free ride because of my father.” Maggie steps closer to the desk. Anger flashes in her eyes. “I’m here because of him, yeah, and because he’ll cut me off if I don’t graduate this year and get into law school, but I’m not Daddy’s little girl.”

“Maggie, I can’t help you anymore. I’m writing a letter to Professor Hunter, as department chairperson, explaining we’re at an impasse and you should seek another advisor.”

“Can’t we start over? Let me go back and review the research, and I promise I’ll—”

“Maggie, it’s too late. I won’t advise you any longer.”

She heaves a sigh and steps back. “All right, look. What will it take?”

Unease hits me. “What do you mean?”

Her gaze meets mine. There’s a calculating gleam in her eyes that I don’t like.

“Your predecessor wasn’t above allowing a student a little extra credit,” Maggie says. “I’m sure you’re not either.”

We stare at each other. Anger simmers in my blood, but it’s not directed at her. Suddenly, against all reason, I feel sorry for her.

“Maggie, don’t.” I stalk to the door and pull it open the rest of the way. In case anyone happens to be in the corridor, I keep my voice professional and courteous. “Stop by the registrar’s to get that paperwork taken care of. You’ll hear from Professor Hunter within a week.”

She doesn’t move. She crosses her arms and looks at me, as if she’s trying to figure out another angle.

“Good-bye, Maggie.”

For a second, I think I might have to be the one to leave, but then she grabs her backpack and brushes past me out the door. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then I sit down at my computer and type up the letter to Frances Hunter. Only after it’s printed out and in Frances’s office mailbox do I feel somewhat better.

I take out my cell phone and call Liv.

“Hi, professor.” Her voice, smooth as silk and laced with affection, dispels some of my unease.

I swivel my chair to stare out the window. “Still at the bookstore?”

“Still here. Allie has a bunch of returns to deal with, so I’m staying to help. I thought I’d make spaghetti tonight, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll walk home so I can stop at the store. Anything you want me to pick up?”

“Can’t think of anything.”

“So... why’d you call?” Liv asks.

“Just because.”

“Oh.” She pauses, obviously trying to work that one out since I’m not the type of husband who calls just
because
.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

It’s a question I don’t know how to answer.

I take a breath. Two things. My wife and work. Nothing else matters.

“Yeah,” I finally say. “Everything’s okay.”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“Don’t lift anything heavy.”

“They’re just picture books.”

“I mean it, Liv.”

“I know. I’m being careful.” She sounds a little exasperated, as if she thinks I don’t trust her judgment.

“Humor me,” I suggest.

“Why else do you think I married you?” she retorts, then disconnects.

A few seconds later, a text message from Liv buzzes on my cell.

U & me 2gether 4ever.
Signed with a little heart.

I respond with
OK & R2D2.

I switch off the phone and toss it onto my desk. Ice crusts the edges of the window. My office is on the seventh floor and overlooks the snow-covered quad and bare trees. The frozen lake is in the distance. Dusk has fallen.

I turn from the window. I keep a framed picture of Liv beside my computer. I’d taken the photo when she stayed with me during winter break of the first year we met. She’s sitting on an old plaid sofa, her hair loose and messy, an unguarded smile lighting her face. She’s wearing a white, buttoned-up shirt too big for her slender shoulders, but no one else looking at the picture would know that it’s my shirt and that she’s naked underneath. Only I know the reason for that look in Liv’s brown eyes.

Only I know that when I took that picture, I’d already fallen hard for her.

I drag my hands through my hair, turn off the computer, and pack up my stuff. I head home and park on the street in front of our apartment. Cold scrapes my face, bites through my coat. Lights shine against the balcony windows. A gust of warmth hits me in the foyer. The smell of marinara sauce fills the air.

I step inside, all my unease disappearing at the sight of my wife. Her hair is pulled back into a messy knot as she stands over the stove, stirring a pot of sauce. She’s wearing a red pullover sweater, a white shirt, and jeans that hug her curved ass. I drop my briefcase and coat. Move to haul her into my arms.

She gives a squeak of surprise.

“Give me a kiss, beauty.”

Her surprise melts into a smile as she turns to press her mouth to mine. She tastes like tomatoes and oregano. Her breasts crush against my chest. I hold the sides of her face and deepen the kiss, sinking into her, breathing her in. When she eases back to look at me, I rest my forehead against hers. My heart’s pounding.

I kiss her again, sliding my tongue across her lower lip. My cock swells. Liv responds with increasing urgency, squirming against me before she breaks away with a breathless little laugh.

“Wait, I have to…”

“Come on.” I grip her hips. Fire flares in my blood. “Let’s fuck.”

Shocked arousal fills her eyes. “Oh, Dean…”

I back her up toward the kitchen door. “The good doctor gave us permission. We’d find it
more enjoyable
, she said. We need to prove her right.”

“Wait… wait… turn off the stove.”

I release her for all of two seconds while I switch off the burners, then hurry to get her into the living room. I tug her hair free of the knot so I can run my fingers through the thick strands. I shift my other hand under her sweater to the small of her back. I ease my fingers into her jeans, past the elastic of her cotton panties. She rocks her hips and steps back to lift her arms.

I pull her sweater over her head, my cock twitching at the sight of her full breasts stretching her white button-down shirt. Her sensible bra is visible beneath it. She puts her hands on my chest and pushes me back onto the sofa. Then she puts a leg over my thighs, straddling my lap. She slips her tongue into my mouth. Her teeth graze my lower lip.

She eases back to make room between us. I rub my hand over the curve of her belly, look at her breasts beneath her blouse. Nice.

“Undo it.” My voice is hoarse.

She reaches out to tug at my loose necktie and pull it from my collar.

“I meant your shirt,” I say.

“I know.” She works the buttons on my shirt instead, her cool hands going to the waistband of my trousers. She pauses to cup my erection. Pressure tightens my lower body, my spine.

“Liv.”

She lifts her hands to her shirt and unfastens the buttons. Her breathing is getting faster, her hair a heavy mass around her shoulders. She flicks open the front clasp of her bra. Ah, fuck. Her breasts are so white, so round. She squeezes them together, plucking at the hard nipples. I could come just by watching her.

She glances at me, her eyes hot. I grasp her hips and shift her so she’s lying in my lap, her back against the sofa cushions. Her breasts jut from between the open folds of her shirt. My prick throbs against her ass.

She wiggles, drives a hand into my hair, pulls my head down. I fasten my lips around her nipple and palm her other breast. She gasps, her hips bucking, her fingers gripping my hair. Her little panting noises flood me with heat.

“Dean, I’m… could you…”

I put my hand between her legs. Press my palm against her. She’s warm even through her jeans. I unzip and pull them over her hips, then drop them to the floor. Rub my hands over her smooth thighs. She arches up to meet the pressure of my fingers. The feel of her makes me burn.

She eases away just enough to be able to get at my fly. She unzips it and takes my cock in her hand. I stop thinking. She sits back on her heels. Her breasts are reddened from my mouth and hands. She’s all flushed, pretty, and hot.

I can’t stop staring at her. I wind a swath of her hair around my hand and pull her in for a deep kiss. Her tongue swirls against mine, her fingers closing on my cock. She slides her lips down my jawline, my neck, over my chest and down. She envelops the head of my prick in her mouth.

“Ah, Liv…” I tighten my hand on her neck. It’s tense and explosive, her going down on me.

Urgency fills my blood as she works her mouth on me, licking and sucking and tasting. I thrust harder, wanting to fuck her mouth. Tension collects along my spine. I dig my fingers into her scalp in an indication that she needs to stop or I’m going to lose it. She pulls back and glances up at me.

“How do you want it?” she whispers.

“You under me.”

Liv pushes away from me and heads for the bedroom. She stretches out on the bed with her legs over the side and props herself up onto her elbows to watch me. She’s like some sort of goddess with her hair all loose and tangled around her shoulders, her brown eyes glazed with arousal. A faint smile curves her gorgeous mouth.

Damn, but I missed her.

I climb onto the bed beside her. Run my hand over her breasts, the swell of her stomach, down between her legs. She’s warm all over. She shifts a little and sighs. I roll my tongue around her nipple, tasting peaches and Liv. She bucks up against me, spearing her hand into my hair.

“Dean, I’m ready. I want…”

“I know what you want.”

I move to stand beside the bed and stare at her flushed face, her eyes glazed with lust. I run my hands over her soft thighs, pressing them apart, watching her open for me. She gasps and twists her nipples, arching her hips. I ease my prick into her. She’s wet, and so fucking tight that one more squeeze and I’m done for.

I put my hands on her spread knees. Breathe deep to regain control. An unbearable ache builds at the base of my shaft.

“Dean.” She reaches out to pull me closer, but then falls back onto the bed and hooks her legs around my hips. “Fuck me hard.”

Oh, Christ. The sound of her husky voice, her raw words, slams into me. My blood goes into full boil. I pull back and thrust forward hard enough to shake her entire body. She shrieks and grabs hold of a pillow.

Again. Again. Again.
With every thrust, her body strokes mine into a firestorm. She clenches around my shaft, pulling me in before releasing me so I can push again. Her breasts bounce, her hands fist in the bedcovers, her teeth bite down on her lower lip. She’s close—I can tell by the look in her eyes, by the way her body is starting to strain.

“Dean,” she gasps. “I’m almost there… almost…”

I pump a few more times to get her right to the edge. Sweat rolls down my back. I push all the way in and run my thumb around the knot of her clit. Two strokes. She cries out, clutching my forearms as shudders course through her. I wait until she’s slipping down the other side before driving toward my own explosion. Which is so fucking powerful it leaves me boneless and panting for air.

But I’m not done. Not yet.

I move in front of Liv and spread her legs again. She stares at me, her chest heaving, her breasts damp. I kneel in front of her. The scent of her fills my head. I lean forward to taste her, licking her up and down, circling my tongue around her clit.

She lets out a groan that makes me throb. She grips my hair, her body straining. I slide my hands under her ass to bring her closer. She wriggles against the bed. Her breathing quickens.

“Dean… I can’t… oh… oh,
God
.”

She bucks her hips and digs her fingers into my scalp. Her body spasms so hard I feel the vibrations down to my bones. I press my tongue lower, spreading my hands across her hips to settle her.

When I lift my head, she’s staring down at me, her face flushed. She opens her arms. I move into them. Her body slumps against mine. She smooths her hands down my back. For a very long time, we just lie there. I breathe her in, then roll over to stare at the ceiling.

As the pleasure eases, reminders of the day return with needle-like persistence. I don’t want them there. Don’t want to remember. Don’t want anything unpleasant to invade our privacy.

But I have to tell Liv about Maggie Hamilton. Can’t forget that secrets are what nearly killed us. Words tangle in my brain.

“Liv.”

“Dean.” She slides over so that she’s lying on top of me, the length of her lush body pressed to mine. She strokes a finger over my mouth and smiles, her eyes soft.

Now the words jam up in my throat. I can’t get them out with her looking at me like that. Exactly the way she used to before all the shit happened.