Her Dirty Professor Series (21+)

“Why?”

I give him the mom face. “Don’t question your mother. It’s a surprise.”

June comes in, she’s holding a million bags but she gives me a wink and hands me a little one. “We’ll be back down in a second.”

I take the little bag into the kitchen and meet Brad, who has the matches.

“What are these for?”

“For this.” I pull the small cake out of the bag with a little flourish, and find the pack of candles at the bottom. “It’s only enough for one person-I didn’t think we could get something big without him noticing, so I texted June. No one should be without cake on their birthday.”

Brad is smiling. “That’s really nice of you.”

“He’s your best friend,” I say. “Of course.” I conveniently leave out the part that he’s now also my lover. I hear June and the rest coming down the stairs, so I call out, “Trevor, can you turn off the TV for a second?”

“Sure.”

I light the candles on the cake. There’s not twenty, but I think he’ll get the idea. I start to sing Happy Birthday, and Brad joins in followed closely by the rest of my family. I carry the cake carefully into the living room where Trevor is sitting, an utterly stunned look on his face. His eyes drift from me to the little cake in my hands and back. For a second-just a second-I see a flash of something, sadness and maybe hurt. But then it’s gone and he has a blinding smile on his face.

We finish in all our off-key glory, and I place the cake on the coffee table in front of him. He heaves a breath, and the candles all go out in one go. “Thank you, this is awesome,” he says.

“It’s chocolate,” I say. “June picked it up, and we weren’t sure exactly what you would like, but chocolate is pretty universal, right?” I hand him the fork for him to dig in while he plucks the extinguished candles off the cake.

“Right.”Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

“Well,” Bradley chimes in, “it’s been a long day, and we have some other family to visit tomorrow, though hopefully it won’t take as long. We should head to bed.” The twins groan as we say goodnight, and June herds them up the stairs.

“Did you finish your paper?” I ask Brad. He’s been periodically excusing himself to work on it throughout the evening.

He winces. “Close. I need a conclusion, basically.”

“Basically?”

“It’s not quite finished, but I have till tomorrow to turn it in.”

I laugh. “Okay. I won’t nag you about it. But please actually finish it.”

I walk into the kitchen to do some prep for tomorrow’s breakfast, and I hear Trevor behind me. “Stella.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for the cake. It was really nice of you.” That odd expression is on his face again, and I’m not sure what it means.

“My pleasure,” I say, and it’s gratifying to see him be the one to blush.

Half an hour later, I’ve determined that I’m going to need a lot more food in this house to feed everyone and plan our next couple all-family dinners before Christmas. I’ll have to go to the store in a couple of days. Maybe tomorrow, depending on how long decorating the tree takes and how much real life work I get in.

I peek my head into the living room. The boys are still watching TV, and the tiny cake has entirely disappeared. I smile at that-at least I picked a cake that he liked. “I’m going to head to bed. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Night, Mom,” Brad says.

It takes Trevor a second or two longer, as he’s looking at me like I’m the cake, but he finally says, “Night, Stella.”

My stomach suddenly bursts into a trembling mix of nerves and desire. I head into my bedroom through the bathroom, stopping to ready myself for bed. I may feel a little stupid doing it, but I make sure that I look good. I put on my least ugly camisole and…nothing else. I’ve never had a use for lingerie and I suddenly find myself cursing my lack of sexy sleepwear. But I suppose it doesn’t matter. If anything happens, I won’t be wearing it for long either way.

Getting into my bed, I pick up a book that I’ve been reading, and even though I find it hard to concentrate, I read. I leave my bedside lamp on, because even if it’s a little desperate, I want Trevor to know that I’m not asleep. Hopefully the light will be enough to let him know that I’m okay with him coming in here.

Finally, a little before midnight, the TV turns off. I hear muffled goodnights and the sounds of steps ascending, followed by the ruffle of linens as Trevor makes up the couch to sleep on. He’s turned the lights off, but I can see the faint silhouette of him thanks to the Christmas tree.

I see him sit down on the couch, and my heart falls. Maybe he’s not going to come in here after all. Maybe he’s tired after helping me lug around the tree and untangling all the lights. But then I see him pull his shirt over his head, and stand. My heart does a one-eighty and lands in my throat as he approaches the door. He opens it silently, just a crack, and asks, “May I come in?”

“Yes.”

Then he’s inside and the door is closed behind him. “I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

“That’s why I left the light on,” I say, smiling.

He spreads out next to me on the bed, a sly grin on his face. “So…what do we do?”

I slide down next to him so our faces are even with each other. “I thought you proved pretty well this morning that you knew what you were doing.”

“Well, thank you,” he laughs.

“I’ll tell you what,” I say. “It is still your birthday.”

“Barely.”

I move closer to him, and we’re laying inches apart but still not touching. “You tell me what you want. Even if it is barely your birthday. It’ll be your birthday gift.”

“But you already got me a cake.” He moves closer, too.

“I think sex and cake go hand in hand, don’t you?”

“Definitely.”

And then we’re kissing, and he tastes like chocolate. His hand slips around me, pulling my body against his and sliding down to my ass. I feel the moment he discovers I’m not wearing any panties. His whole body stiffens-some parts more than others-and he pulls back to look at me. “You knew I’d come in here?”

“I hoped.”

He kisses me again, rolling over me and pressing me down into the sheets. I love the warm weight of his body, feeling every line of him against me. One hand wanders up to tangle itself in my hair and draw me closer into his kiss. His tongue runs along my bottom lip, and I open for him, the kiss growing fierce. It feels like a delicious battle, both of us warring for control of the kiss and instead both losing ourselves more into each other. We break apart for seconds as he strips off my camisole, and I shove his pants off his hips.

I explore his body with my hands in a way I didn’t this morning, fingering the lines of his ribs and the muscles in his shoulders. I slip a hand between us and tease him, running a finger along his abs, carefully avoiding his cock. His kisses are addictive, and even though I know what comes later, I might be tempted to spend an eternity tangled with him, naked and kissing.

Threading my fingers through his hair, I pull his face back from mine and force him to look at me. “Tell me what you want,” I say, echoing his words from this morning. His eyes are so beautiful, and so expressive. I see the tiny flecks of blue all through the gray, and I watch as they seem to get darker with his thoughts.

Finally, “I want to watch you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

He leans down and presses a kiss to the center of my chest. “This morning, you said that you imagined me. That you fantasized. I want to see what it looked like.”

All the blood rushes to my face and I’m sure I look like the world’s most embarrassed tomato. “So you want-”

“I want to watch you touch yourself. I want to see you get off thinking about me.”

I don’t say anything, and my skin is going hot along with all the redness.

“Are you embarrassed?”

I clear my throat. “Maybe,” I say softly.

“I think it’s sexy as hell. And if you think I’m not going to fuck you after I watch this, you’re mistaken.”

He retreats to the end of the bed, kneeling back. He takes his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly, and I watch him, mesmerized. I could just watch him, and even though I’m still embarrassed by the very idea, I suddenly understand why he finds it appealing.

“Stella,” he says, voice rough, “touch yourself.”

I slip my hand down, fingers sliding across my clit because I’m already so wet. It feels good. I try to conjure up one of those old fantasies, the way I imagined he would taste and fuck, but they’re all blocked out by my new memories of the real thing. So I cling to those instead, remembering the way his tongue woke me up this morning. I let the whole encounter roll through my head, slowly, not skipping any of the details.

I circle my clit with my fingers, alternating with rubbing back and forth. I’m so sensitive, I know it won’t take long to get myself off, but I want to make it last for him. So instead, I tease myself. I rub up and down the sides of my pussy, daring to dip my middle finger inside. I squeeze down onto my finger, and it feels good. I imagine what it’s going to feel like when Trevor is inside me again, jammed in every crevice, and I shudder.

I hear Trevor curse, and I look at him. His eyes are glazed, watching me touch myself, watching my face as I fantasize about him. His hand is moving steadily on his cock, and I see the strain in his muscles as he holds himself back from going too fast.

I move my other hand to my pussy, holding myself open for him to see while I move back to my clit. I go slow, circling and flicking and letting my hips squirm if I go too quickly. I feel the pressure building inside me, and I know I won’t be able to tease myself much longer. I remember the way he held me still and fucked my mouth, and I groan. I rub my fingers across my clit, and I catch the rhythm I know my body craves. It doesn’t take long, and soon I’m panting, my body begging for release. My fingers move faster and faster, until I’m not entirely sure I’m in control of them anymore.

My pleasure bottoms out, and I find those delicious moments that consume my whole body before I reach the peak, and I try to hold on, I try to make it last, but I can’t. I look at Trevor, his own hand moving just as fast as mine, and I lock eyes with him as I go over. Pleasure crashes through me and I grind against hand, trying to make it last. I feel a flood of wetness leave my pussy, and I know I’m moaning louder than I should be in a house full of sleeping people. The high fades as quickly as it came, and I’m left blinking away the pleasure, small spasms moving through my muscles.

Trevor looks at me-he never looked away-and I know he’s close. I can see it in his body, and I know all it will take is one little push. So I give it to him. I draw a finger through my soaking pussy, and bring it to my lips. I lick myself clean for him. I see his muscles go rigid, and he leans forward as he comes, spilling himself across my breasts and stomach. He covers me in it, and I let him. This is what he wanted, and I want him to look at me covered in it. Then I want him to fuck me.

“That was incredibly hot,” he says, bracing himself over me, catching his breath.