Chapter 3

Three

Emberly

I 'm not sure what happened in the two seconds it takes me to turn back around, but the blood smeared down the truck's door and the instant bruise on Thomas's face is a shining clue.

Roars and cheers erupt over the crowd and they start to chant the professor's name. Thomas's friends are nowhere to be seen.

Of course.

"You like a little fight in your women, huh? How do you like it now?" Professor Elliot is bent down next to Thomas, who is now on his knees still clutching the remains of his dick and balls but looks like he went a round with a bull and lost.

The only response Thomas has is a girly groan.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. What the fuck do you think you are doing? She did say no. We all heard from across the parking lot. Thought your daddy taught you better. Then again money doesn't make a man, isn't that right, Emberly?" Elliot's pissed off question only gets another high-pitched squeal as a reply.

Around us the crowd is growing and I want to melt into the gravel at my feet from embarrassment when I see the gleam of phone cameras popping up to catch the whole exchange. Blood roars in my ears and my heart jackhammers.

I'm ready to turn and leave when I catch Professor Elliot's eye.

Sharp, primal and lethal.

My breath hitches and my eyes go wide.

"Stay," he commands in the same husked baritone I've listened to for three and a half solid years and gotten off with on more than one occasion. Only this time something darker in his tone has my feet planting to the ground, but I'll be honest. He could command me to do pretty much anything and I wouldn't think twice about following every order. The power that fills the space he occupies is overwhelming and all-consuming at once. I'm not the only one who feels it either. Other college girls my age are eyeing him with the same hunger that has my insides in knots.

But it's me he's looking at. Me he's commanding.

"Don't you fucking move a muscle, Emberly, or so help me God I'll hunt you down," he grits out and I can't tell if he's laid down a promise or a threat between us. Or both.

What. The. Fuck. I nail him with a defiant look, but the signals between my feet and my brain must be jammed.

I silently wonder if I should test him. Push the man outside his comfort zone and get a reaction out of him. Something . All his hot looks and stolen glances are driving me crazy. Any more of this back and forth and I'm not sure what I'll do.

"Emberly, I want to hear the words."

My name on his lips does miraculous things to my body and I shiver.

I choke out a "Yes, sir."

Suddenly the worried expression on his face turns lethal and dark. Problem is, I can't tell if this shift in moods is bad or a terribly good thing. Will he storm across the short distance between us, pluck me off my feet and whisk me away to safety?

A good thing in my head.

Or will he beat the crap out of Thomas right here in front of tens of students armed with cameras and YouTube channels?

Still good for me, but Thomas might regret ever coming out this evening.

Satisfied I'm not going anywhere, he turns a dark gaze on my face where Thomas caught me with his backhand.

He swings his head around and buries his hands in the jock's coat. In one smooth motion my professor hauls two hundred pounds of grade-A asshole up and thrashes him against the truck next to us. Towering over the piece of trash, he gives him another shake.

"Come on, don't you want to play now? I thought you liked it rough? Throwing your weight around is fun, right?"

Something stirs within me as I look on and I can't still my anxious hands clenched in front of me. I probably look like Sister Alice ready to break out in prayer.

"Jesus," I hiss, mad at myself for not being able to pull my head together. Deep down the primal spark of something new fires bolts of electricity throughout my body. I'm not sure what kind of woman this makes me, but seeing the professor's protective side sends a rush of excitement through me and puckers my nipples into tight, throbbing knots.

My pulse thunders in my ears as flames lick along the curves of my body.

Finding any semblance of calm is way past my abilities right now, but I fight for a few drops of whatever I have left all the same. I swallow around the dryness in my throat a few times, but it is not happening. Not when all I see are the older man's broad shoulders bunching beneath his button-down dress shirt defending my honor like a knight.

I hold my laugh. No way my mind should go there . He was just a man doing the right thing. But damn if it did anyway.

All that rippling muscle and thick forearms do unspeakable things to my libido. That had to make me a freak of some sort because I like it. A lot.

Thomas's eyes are wide. "Get the fuck away from me, old man. You know who my father is? He'll show you what a loser has-been you are. Make that a jealous wannabe, more like it." He slings his insults vehemently and I see the second Thomas realizes his threats fall on deaf ears.

Sadly for him, his new angle isn't much better.

Cold eyes slant toward me as Thomas makes one mistake too many. "Hey, if you want a piece of her first, I'm game."

"Wrong move," Elliot roars, rearing back. Thomas's pretty boy jaw does a glorious job of catching a meaty right hook and the professor lets the jerk fold to the ground like dirty laundry.

Elliot's eyes narrow on Thomas, and the smirk on his face reiterates what he just said with his fist. Some lessons are hard learned, I guess.

"Tomorrow morning report to the dean's office. Your future at BU will be determined then. Looks like you just might have pissed away your full football ride, buddy. Daddy's not going to be too happy about that news."

Daddy referred to Thomas's NFL quarterback father with several Super Bowl wins under his belt. I only know all this because it's on every girl's lips and apparently has gone to Thomas' head.

"The rest of you, move the fuck on unless you want your names on the report too." Professor Riley's deep booming voice catches me off guard and I almost scream my surprise as he comes to stands so close I feel the brush of his body against mine.

Heat touches me first and then a light hand comes to rest on my lower back just above the globes of my ass. Not too intimate but close enough.

We stay like that a minute until all the twenty-somethings clear out with both men flanking me like a protective shield of muscle.

And let me say, nothing gets a bunch of college students moving faster than a pissed off professor dealing out free ass beatings. Legal or not. Elliot didn't seem to care if putting his hands on a student in defense of another meant trouble for him.

Elliot starts to move me away from the crowd but I step around him to watch Thomas scurry off to someone's souped-up muscle car. It peels out of the pub parking lot with a bunch of buddies.

What a loser.

My eyes lock on his, and my gut twists at the blast of hatred fired my way from the passenger window but I dig deep, steel my nerves, flicking Thomas a double-fingered salute.

"Douche," I mumble under my breath, but obviously not too hushed because Samuel grins my way, those blue eyes of his flashing his approval.

My chest rises and falls evenly but I feel anything but the calm I'm working to project.

Try more like freaked the hell out. What was I thinking attacking someone that big with friends in the wings?

When the last set of headlights fade and we are alone, Elliot turns his full attention on me and I immediately freeze under all that intense power. He's by my side in two strides and his brows are pinched in a stern angle. "Are you okay, Emberly?"

His tone matches his expression, but I am not expecting that kind of question. I feared something more along the lines of what kind of idiot I must be to try to walk home alone.

Fair question. But one that would still sting.

Warm arms encircle me and pull me against a firm chest, shoving my thoughts aside. Anyone looking our way would only see two men. We stood off in the shadows with a truck on either side, obscuring any nosy onlookers that might chance by.

"Fuck him. Don't give the bastard another thought."

The deep, low-pitched voice belongs to my foreign affairs professor and hits my ears, working in tandem with hints of Ivory soap and sandalwood reassuring me I'm safe. But that I'm also female and immune to a man like him.

Powerful. Rugged and enough sex appeal to kill me with an overdose of orgasms. If that's a thing. If not, it will be in a few seconds.

I'm amazed at my sudden shift. While one male gives me the creeps, this specimen pushes all the right buttons.

I blush, looking down for a moment before I bring my hands up to rest on Samuel's thick, exposed forearms crossed over my chest. His sleeves are rolled up and I run my hands up and down his warm flesh, uncaring who sees.

All three of us stand in silence for a few seconds and I feel the tension melt away from my shoulders and I relax even more into Samuel's arms and Elliot's nearness.

Samuel strokes my bare shoulder. "Feel better now, sweetheart? You were shaking like a leaf."

I didn't move to say it was anger making me shake and instead, accepted his touch in the quiet.

It might be wrong and forbidden to have any kind of relations with a professor, but that didn't make this feel any less perfect. Maybe it makes it more so. I don't know. I'm no psychology student.

When I try to move away, he tightens his arms a fraction to let me know I'm okay where I am and our eyes lock as I turn my head and peer up at him.

I freeze for a long moment, drawn in by the sudden combination of his hands on me and the feel of his hard body pressed against mine. Add the shock of his focus entirely on me and I can't move.

I slowly look to the side and find Professor Elliot looking at me in Samuel's arms and his eyes are on fire as if reading every dirty thought in my head.

He comes to stand beside us so close I can smell the same Ivory soap on him as I do Samuel, but instead of sandalwood, I smell the sweet hint of whiskey. I could be blindfolded yet still see a million questions on his tongue, but he keeps silent for now, content staring down at me like he can't figure out what to do about me.

"Did that fucker hurt you anywhere else?" Elliot's voice is edgy, dark and falls around me like a warm embrace. His eyes never leave my face.

The cool air has dried my lips and I sneak the tip of my tongue out to wet them. With a gentle touch on my shoulder, Samuel pivots me around, putting Elliot at my back.

I drag my gaze off a thick, wide chest and over nicely shaped lips to find Samuel's jaw twitching and enough wrath glazing over his sharp, icy blue eyes for the both of us. Make that three of us, I notice as I turn my gaze to meet Elliot's.

Those flames from a moment ago flicker and grow, warming wicked desires inside of me.

Samuel speaks softly so his voice doesn't carry past us. "Be honest with me." I stare at his lips the whole time he speaks, and I shiver at the soft command in his voice.

One would think a man of his size didn't know how to be gentle, but the way he holds me close but not too tightly says otherwise.

I let out a quick breath and manage a short answer. "I'm fine."

Elliot tugs off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. "Little punk is lucky you took him down first." His words practically drip with venom.

Maybe too short from the glint of annoyance that flashes across his face and then I realize I'm dead wrong. It is not annoyance at all but well-constrained rage as he eyes the beginnings of what will be a nice bruise on my cheek come morning.

"He was half drunk and I promise he didn't get far. I can take care of myself. Had he been sober and at full strength maybe I'd be telling a different story, but I'm fine. Honest."

Elliot bends and before I realize what he's doing his lips are on my cheek, his hands wrapped around my neck and his thumbs gently stroking my tender skin. I'm no longer in Samuel's arms but tucked into Elliot's strong, protective chest.

I don't know what to focus on more—there are so many warring thoughts. Samuel's hands are on me too and before I can question my actions, throw on the brakes or demand what the fuck I am doing, I turn my head, bury my hands in his hair and kiss Professor Elliot.

I've never been so wet, so fast in my life.

Holy shit .