Chapter 8

Eight

Rosalee

I can't imagine ever letting another man touch me the way Gideon has. Both my body and my heart.

He walks me through the door of his home—a modern two-story perched on the side of a beautiful mountain overlooking a deep valley. It's nighttime but the full moon just beyond the expansive windows spanning the length of the entire wall highlight pines and oaks and a hint of a river below.

"It's beautiful," I say, trying to take it all in like a fresh drink of water after a long hike through a desert. After living in my one bedroom with a barely-there kitchen for the past three-plus years, you tend to marvel at and appreciate real leather and marble.

"Thank you." Gideon steps up behind me and rests his hands on my bare shoulders. "Make yourself at home, sweetness, I'll be right back."

Soft lights dot the large living room area with a huge marble table on the opposite side of the open layout. Everything is either black or white. Cold.

Color comes in the form of low embers glowing in the hearth, and I walk over to stoke the fire, when I catch a row of pictures along the mantle in various styles of frames. Several are square and others round, some made of silver and others porcelain.

I pick a black wooden framed picture and trace my fingers over the glass. From the looks of it, Gideon is in some part of Africa from the massive stalk-like Baobab trees in the background. The sun is setting and throws a bright orange glow across the expansive sky. It's beautiful. Among him are several young children smiling and all pushing to get in the picture.

I take another, this one of a man who carries a striking resemblance to the man who just swept me out of a sex club after making me come in public.

"My father," Gideon confirms as he strolls into the living room in a fresh shirt and slacks. The cuffs neatly fastened, I notice.

He's beside me, looking over my shoulder.

"Tell me about him."

He takes my hand and leads me to a black leather sofa a few feet from the fire and pulls me to sit on his lap. I fall into his embrace willingly and lean into his broad chest, resting my weight on him. I shimmy a little to get comfortable and love the way I can feel his cock growing hard beneath my ass.

"Professor," I tease leaning in to rub my nose against his. "Already?"

"I could fuck you morning, noon, and night and still want dessert and treats in between. Don't think I've had my fill."

He pulls me in and takes my mouth in a kiss, growling against my lips. Hard then soft.

I moan into his mouth, lost in his taste the second his tongue strokes over mine. His powerful hands are on my hips, skimming over my bare thighs as my skirt rides high, higher. He teases my skin, brushing the pads of his fingers lightly over my inner thigh then back to sink into the flesh of my ass.

"I see you lost your panties somewhere tonight."

"I did. Good thing too. There was this very persuasive professor I ran into tonight," I tease.

"What a devil." He growls against my neck before nipping the soft flesh of my earlobe.

I suck back a shocked breath. "You're telling me," I groan back, letting my eyes fall closed as his lips seek out the tender flesh of my neck. The outfit I'm wearing has officially become my favorite.

I spread my thighs for him on his silent command and feel myself falling to the couch as he moves me beneath him. His weight pins me to the soft leather and I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him into me with my heels.

I run my tongue up his neck and press my lips over his throbbing pulse. "Take your clothes off, Gideon. I want to feel your body against mine when you take me this time. Please," I beg, running my fingers through his hair, over his covered chest and back, wanting to feel his hard muscles under my fingers instead of cloth.

He pulls back, towering above me, and I ignore the buzz in my body from the adrenaline rush jacking my blood and focus on the tight look on his face.

He pulls away and I unlock my legs, reaching for his hand. "What? What did I say? Please don't pull away."

He takes my hand and raises it to his mouth but doesn't press his lips to my knuckles like I'm expecting. I look on as he turns it over and lavishes my palm with a soft, warm kiss. "You are an angel and have done nothing wrong. The problem is me."

"What is it? What's wrong? You know you can talk to me."

He dips his head, chin against his chest. Every inch of my skin is on fire from the feel of his hands on me, and I'm torn between letting him know whatever the problem is I can handle it and just being content sitting in silence for as long as he needs.

I don't have to wait long. He relinquishes his hold over my hand and stands. There's a bar off to the right of the fireplace, and he takes a bottle of what looks like whiskey and pours himself a glass.

With his back turned, he begins to speak. Maybe he thinks if he doesn't have to look at me I won't be as hurt, but nothing can shield me from the pain in his words.

"My father was a man who didn't know the meaning of no. He took what he wanted and didn't care for the consequences. Once he had what he craved it was never enough. He always wanted more. He wasn't content with his shipping company. He wanted bigger, better."

I watch his Adam's apple bob as he takes a healthy swallow.

"He chased an elusive unicorn," I offer.

"Right. The wealth he had was never enough to satisfy him. He wanted more the more he amassed. One thing led to another and he became an arms dealer, and I was brought up at the knee of a man who had more respect for money than he did human life. You have to know I almost walked down that same path."

"But you didn't," I remind him gently. "What happened that changed that for you?"

"In a word, revenge. A deal my father was coordinating within Europe went south. The guys on the other end thought he was double-crossing them, and they didn't think it worth asking for my father to explain. So they sought revenge for a perceived slight against them. I came to find out years later, they were right. My father sold them out to their enemy for a higher profit."

He paused to take a swallow of his whiskey, and I catch a glimmer of his haunted past deep in his eyes. I'm tempted to interrupt but don't. He needs to talk and I want him to know I am here for him.

"We were driving through the Alps the winter after my nineteenth birthday. I was taking a year off after graduating to work with my father, learning the ropes before I was to come stateside and start college. I wanted to be an archeologist, of all things, and my parents thought I should have options before I went down a path of ‘no real meaning.' My father's words more or less. He made me a deal. Take a year, learn the family business and if I didn't like it, I could follow my initial plan. Sounded easy at the time."

I almost stood and walked to him, but I force myself to stay where I am at and listen.

"We were only an hour away from the villa we were staying at over the holidays when the brakes went out on our SUV. Cop reports show they were tampered with and went out when he tried to slow down going around a steep curve. The car must have rolled ten times before we stopped. Smoke, shattered glass and ringing in my ears are all I remember at first. And then I see the fire and my mother pinned under the weight of crushed metal. I tried to help her, but the fire was too out of control."

He places his tumbler on the mantel and inch by inch rolls back the cuffs of his sleeves to reveal tattoos up both arms. He turns his arms and in that small movement is when I see what is hidden beneath the ink.

Puckered burn marks.

I gasp and this time I don't hesitate. I stand and walk over to him. "It's a miracle you survived." I wrap my arms around him, wanting to share in his burden. "I am so sorry about your mom, Gideon. So sorry. What happened to your father?" I pull back and look into his eyes.

"He died alongside my mother."

"That's horrible."

"Don't feel sorry for him. Karma is a mirror, and the death his arms deals wrought on this earth and to innocent people earned him his fiery death ten times over. So don't you dare feel sorry for that piece of shit."

Gideon leads us back to the couch and pulls me to sit on his lap. From where I'm nestled in his arms, he looks every bit part of Russian Bratva with the shadow along his jaw and the weight of death sitting on his shoulders.

"Well he did one good thing at least. He continued on with Blackthorne University and made sure nothing happened to it. You can't tell me no good has come from that? It did bring us together." I lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips.

"This is true, sweetness. But don't be fooled. Those were for selfish reasons too. He had to launder most of the money he earned from his deals and no one ever expected a school. My father was a wise man and knew how to turn blood money clean through investments. I've tried getting rid of it for the past decade and it keeps fucking multiplying."

"Is that where all those pictures were taken?" I point to the ones I saw when he first led me through his door.

He nods. "I've established schools in Africa, clean water plants in South America and donated to every charity working to improve living conditions in every country and village my father's dealings have caused upheaval. It can't erase it, but maybe it can help the people in some way. Honestly, I can't give the money away fast enough. It seems the more I give the more keeps coming back to me."

I wipe a tear that fell unexpectedly.

"Why are you crying, sweetness? I am sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad."

I smile. "Oh my sweet professor. You are a man with a heart of gold, Gideon Blackthorne, and don't you ever think anything else, that's an order."

"If you say so. Right now, I feel like a depraved pervert for wanting you and not giving a shit who it might offend or bother."

"You know, it makes sense now. Our first night I thought maybe you didn't want to really touch me or thought I was dirty, given I had no idea you knew who I was. You did buy me, after all."

"Like I said… I'm a bastard for taking you the way I did. But what makes sense to you now?"

"Why you never roll your sleeves up. Why you jerked away from me when I touched your arm that day in your class when my mom called, and why you left your clothes on when you first took me in your private suite."

Gideon gently sits me to the side with a kiss to my forehead and moves to the bar for another finger's worth of whiskey.

I follow close behind and place my fingers on the first button. My face reddens because I know he can refuse me at any second and just might given his history. "May I see you? I promise to be gentle."

He thumbs my cheek, and the fire I see in his eyes has me wet and soaking my panties through. "God, you fucking kill me with those eyes, woman. What is it about you that has me willing to slay dragons and spill blood in your honor and defense?"

I blush even deeper at the meaning of his words. He is openly admitting I am the definition of his weakness.

Spoiler alert, he's mine too.

He wraps his fingers around mine and lowers my hands away from his shirt. I think he's going to refuse me, but I'm surprised by what he says next.

"Allow me."

With each button he slowly reveals a piece of him I've craved to see, taste, touch forever, and I'm not imagining the heat behind those dark, fiery eyes the lower he gets.

I take a big shaky breath and shove aside any thought or idea of wrongness that should keep us apart. "Now allow me." With the buttons undone and the sides of his shirt hanging open, I step close and run my hands under the lapels and peel away the sides as I've imagined doing for forever.

As the shirt drops into his open hands, my bottom lip falls open at the glorious sight of the man I love. And that's when I realize the power behind those words.

I slowly run my hands over tanned, deeply corded tattooed muscles and my mouth waters to lick each dark line. "Gideon Blackthorne, you are a beautiful man," I whisper in awe, taking him in for the first time.

"The tattoos?"

"Are to cover the burns I suffered trying to pull my mother from the fire," he confirms my suspicions in a husky voice, and my heart breaks for the man trying so hard to do right by so many.

Tears well and fall down my cheeks. "I am so sorry." But my words sound so light compared to the pain he had to have suffered.

His strong arms wrap around me in comfort of the pain he suffered, and it doesn't seem fair. I rise to the tips of my toes and press my lips to his ear. "I love you."

When I pull back, the gravity of my words reflect in his eyes. "I don't know if you know this or not, but I've loved you since the day you walked through the classroom door replacing Dr. Cobbs. I just didn't recognize the connection my heart wanted to make to yours with that one simple look you slid my way. Or maybe it was that first smile that swept me off my feet. But I know for sure on the day you comforted me about my virginity. You were so tender and kind to me."

He leans in and kisses my forehead. "You were an angel in need and now you're my angel to care for and protect. And the first time I saw you. Fuck me," he growls. "My cock throbs at the memory of you in that tight jean skirt and red shirt. Honest to God, I had no idea plaid could look so sexy until I saw you sitting there like a personal invitation for me to sin with."

"You liked that country look, huh," I tease. "Wait ‘till you see me in my mandatory red polka dotted bikini this summer."

"Mandatory, huh?"

"Yes, Professor." I work up my best Elly May voice. "Every good Southern girl has one." I wink, enjoying seeing his eyes light up.

I laugh softly.

He takes my chin between his fingers. "I have a small confession of my own. I only took on Dr. Cobb's class because of you. I saw you walking the halls with your head down and the troubles of the world in your eyes. Then I sat in on Dr. Cobb's class and watched your brilliance come to life as you talked about, I think it was phobias. I'm not too sure. I was distracted. I couldn't look away from the way your hair bounced when you spoke and that tiny Southern lilt coloring to your words. Sexy as fuck. The next day I encourage Dr. Cobbs to take early retirement and promised him his full pension plus thirty percent if he did."

"You did what? You're such a dirty perv."

"What can I say, I like to help people. Speaking of, you must be hungry. Let me feed you and then I'll bathe that beautiful body. After I tend to your current needs, I'll be making a few calls and fixing your botched scholarship. There's no way you only earned a partial and the board is going to hear about it."

He's leading me through his home when I tug on his hand and pull him to a stop.

"Gideon, I do not expect anything from you. You know that, right? That is not what anything we share is about."

"You can't just expect me to stand by and not help you." His brows pinch into a line of stubbornness, and I know this is going to come down to a battle of wills. Well, he's about to find out just how stubborn a Georgia girl is.

"And you can't expect me to want a handout." I pull out of his light touch before I fall for all the promises his words offer. Money is not what I want from him, and I won't risk him thinking that in the slightest.

He swings me around and pins me to the wall with his arms locked on either side of my head. It's hard to stop thinking about them wrapped around me, holding me close as he takes my body on a wild pleasure ride again. But I manage.

"Anything I do for you is from the heart, Rosalee. I want to help you so you can help others. Think of it as paying it forward and me getting a little of the black on my soul cleansed."

"I truly do want to help so many. When I am back home and we visit my father's doctor, I see so many others suffering from depression and I know there's a way to help them see the happy parts of life again. To come out of this kind of fog that has wrapped itself around them and enjoy their family."

He pushes off the wall and I watch him take the gold ring off his right hand. "My grandfather changed our family name when he left Russia and brought my grandmother here. I grew up hearing about his country and all kinds of stories. Stories of his parents and on down the line. When I lost my family, though it was broken, I felt lost and yes, depressed."

He brushes the tip of his finger under my chin. "Much like the tattoo you have, I got this to remind me of what I one day want to have and remind me of what is important in life."

"What does it say?" I ask, running my finger over the black, bold ink circling his ring finger.

"S em'ya. It's Russian for family."

I couldn't feel more fiercely about this. "That's what I want too," I say and mean with all my heart.

He brushes his lips over mine. "You're going to make a great mother and doctor someday. I don't care if you like it or not, I'm going to help you. Rosa. It's only fair. You've helped others, cared for your family, now let someone take care of you. I'm that someone. I'm stepping in and taking care of everything from here on out."

"And what about what I want?" I know my parents and trying to explain a large sum of money out of nowhere is going to be tricky.

"I'll tie you to my bed and lick you into submission if that's what it takes. Don't push me on this. I have the means to care for you. So deal with it because it's happening."

Well, I showed him, didn't I. I sigh and take his extended hand. There's a look in his eye that tells me I'm more to him than just someone he can help. I mean something to him on a deep, personal level.

"Please, Rosa."

Damn it. Why did he have to put it that way? I step into his outstretched arms.

"You've brought a light into my life, now let me return the favor though so small in comparison."

"As long as you know, what makes you the man of my dreams is your kind soul and the size of your?—"

A playful smile tugs at his lips pulling me up short. "What?"

"The size of my dick, right?" He grips my ass with both hands and I'm back against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist and the ridge of his cock pressed against my dripping wet pussy lips.

"Gideon!"

He roars with laughter when my mouth drops open, and I slap at his beautiful, bare chest but it does no good "I'm teasing, but the blush on your face tells me all the truth. You're as dirty-minded as I am!"

"You'll pay for that, Gideon Blackthorne."

"I thoroughly hope so, Ms. Johnson, and the sooner the better. Now show me how wet you are for me."

He reaches between us and drags a finger through my slick lips, and I moan.

"Apparently you get wet the second I mention my cock."

"Apparently so," I agree breathlessly. "What are you going to do to me?"

"I'm going to teach my naughty student a lesson."

I'm whimpering and moaning at the promise I know he'll fulfill and the feel of his cock throbbing against my pouty lips. He has my clothes tossed aside in a blink. And finally…finally… I feel his flesh against mine and that's enough to make me come but I hold on.

I cry out when the head of his cock slips through my girl-cum and slides into my pulsing cunt. Hard, veined and rigid, he drives his full length into me in one needy thrust. I shiver from head to toe and know this is going to be hard and fast.

"I want to see your belly round with my child."

I nod, panting as he starts to glide his shaft through my soaking wet pussy.

He grips my bare cheeks and angles my ass to where he can tunnel his swollen cock deeper.

"Hold onto me and don't let go."

I follow his command and ride him as fast as he's pumping into me. "Gideon, I'm going to come!"

"I can feel you tightening around my cock, baby, I've got you. Give me everything. I want all of you."

My head falls back. "I want all of you. Give me all of you," I hear myself say as the first burning heat of my orgasm blazes through me, clamping the walls of my channel around him, milking his cock. Every time he withdraws, I suck him right back in with enough force to make him bump against my aching clit.

"This is how fucking hard and needy you've had me since the first day I became your professor." One last thrust and his head drops back. I feel the first jerk of his release spill into me, and I moan, gasping for air as pleasure steals every last thought from my mind.

"How about you take me to bed, Professor, and show me again?"