Chapter 6

Six

Amber

T aboo is never a word I thought would apply to my life but after seeing the dean lose his control and kiss me again, and after feeling his impressive cock in my hands, I know there is no way either of us will walk away. Not without taking what we want. Something is going to happen between us, it's only a matter of time. I'm sure of it.

One thing is for sure—I no longer have to wonder if he wants me. Tonight proved that fact no matter how much distance he wants to put between us.

I rinse the shampoo from my hair and savor the fresh scent. His scent. Nothing special or fancy, but I'll always associate the smell of tangy citrus with Maddox after this.

It doesn't take me long to work in the conditioner then lather my body. At the slightest touch, my nipples peak beneath the bubbles, eager for attention. No surprise. After feeling Maddox's strong hands on my body and his firm lips taking mine, I'm surprised I didn't tackle him in the middle of his bathroom. I run my hands down lower and glide the pad over my clit. I stroke the tiny pleasure nub and pant into the steamy air. I'm slick in seconds and ready for penetration, but I can't seem to make myself reach the climax I feel building inside me. My body wants to feel the masculine touch of Maddox again and not mine.

I give up and rinse, but the hum is still there, hovering just out of my reach.

Ten minutes and I have my hair towel dried along with the rest of me. I find a brush and run it through the long tresses taking in my pink-tinged cheeks and glow in the mirror. And the nice golf ball-sized bruise on my cheek. Maddox's eyes had a hard time staying off it.

I return the brush and make sure I leave the bathroom as I found it. There are two doors. One I don't know where it leads to. Another room? The hall? So I take the other, which opens up to Maddox's room bathed in warm light from the two floor lamps on either side of the room. Seeing his most personal space gives me a new excitement, and I'm surprised to see it so tidy. But what really has my attention is the large king-sized bed in the middle of the room. I know I have no right to think or feel the jealousy clawing at me, but I can't help but wonder how many women he's invited to his bed. I kind of like the idea of being the only one he craves and desires, fleeting fantasy or not.

"Silly," I murmur. But still…

There's a thick, black comforter folded back to reveal snow-white sheets. The crispness is inviting and part of me wants to climb in and snuggle.

To my right is a tall set of drawers with several bottles of cologne arranged across the top in a silver tray. I take a minute to smell them one by one.

Each is as luxurious as the last and so much Maddox. Strong, but not overbearing. Heady and lust-inducing. Or maybe I'm just hypersensitive after that soul-searing kiss he gave me. I've never been kissed with so much need from a man that I can still feel the humming through every cell of my body. If I wasn't already determined to push aside all the pesky ‘rules' he wants to keep like a wall between us, that kiss would have shoved me over the line for good.

It's been a long night and it's barely after midnight. My stomach rumbles, so I make quick work of finding a shirt and pulling it on. The ends brush to mid-thigh with the words US MARINES across my breasts. It's old, worn and perfect. He's brought my purse and small satchel in from the truck, so I dig out a clean pair of panties and pull them on.

I go for the sweats but they are too big and I don't want to give the rule of three plaguing me an easy target. Tripping over a pair of pants around my ankles is not the way I want to go when I leave this earth.

I make my way back downstairs and patter barefoot to the kitchen to find his back turned to me and his wet shirt draped over a kitchen chair.

Until that moment I thought he was bare of any tattoos but I was wrong. So very very wrong. Maddox Spencer is not the strait-laced never-break-a-stigma type as everyone thinks, I muse. Or at least I do.

Over the wide expanse of his sculpted back is a huge eagle with unfurled wings spread from one side to the other, showing a fierce look in the eyes of the beast. From his days in the military, no doubt.

It's stunning and I can't help but stare.

That hovering need to climax tingles deep inside my core, letting me know it's there. I bite my lip to keep from groaning out loud.

Sexy as hell.

I wonder what it would be like to trace every line and feel his muscle bunch and roll under my touch?

When I enter the kitchen, he's leaning over the stove concentrating so hard he doesn't hear me approach until I'm right beside him.

"Mmm…it smells divine," I say more in greeting than anything else to kind of break the ice again between us after he stormed out of the bathroom like a man on fire.

He turns with a tight smile we both know is forced. A stab of annoyance runs through me when he nails me with a pinched look, but it doesn't last long. I swing my hair over my shoulder and the fire in his eyes brightens when that small movement draws his attention to what I'm wearing.

First his gaze rakes over my legs and then up until he sees the hard tips of my nipples poking against the confines of his shirt. One thing my satchel didn't contain was a fresh bra, and Maddox just figured that out.

He ignores my greeting altogether. "What are you wearing?"

I thought it obvious. "Uh… your shirt," I answer dryly, not liking his tone or the way the heat of his visual examination has me shifting my weight from one foot to the other like I've been a bad girl. "We left all my clothes in my car, remember?" I keep my tone cool, even.

"I see that but," he growls, waving a sauce-dipped wooden spatula in my direction. "I mean that."

His eyes are on my bare legs and my nipples are hard to miss.

"It's not like you haven't seen me naked, professor."

"Don't call me that. I'm not your professor."

"Oookaaayyy, Dean Spencer," I draw out. "Doesn't make much difference, right? It's not like you haven't seen me naked," I repeat. "…licked my pussy juices off your fingers or made me orgasm so hard I saw stars in the middle of the school parking lot. Sorry, but I didn't think wearing a T-shirt in front of you would make much difference."

He turns back around but I can see the tension in his neck and tell he's gritting his teeth from my choice of words. I didn't mean to push the man, or at least not tonight but it seems it doesn't matter what I do the same result happens so I might as well stick to the truth.

"Look," I begin, really not sure what to say to make him drop his guard even a fraction. I thought I was having a rough night, but it didn't look like he faired any better.

Maddox's jaw twitched and up came the spatula again. This time to point toward a table in the corner. "Just have a seat, Amber."

I pull out a chair closest to the window. Beyond the large glass is probably a million-dollar view that's stunning during daylight hours, but at this hour its pitch-black outside with only a few beams of moonshine breaking through the clouds.

It doesn't matter. All my attention is on the man and his low-slung jeans dropped over powerful hips. So he does own a pair. And they are a dream.

He turns with two plates in hand, and I have to swallow to keep my jaw from hitting my chest. The top button is popped open and his pants ride just low enough to highlight those crazy sexy dips that lead into a V on either side of his hips. You know the ones I'm talking about that make a woman lose track of her own thoughts. Yep. Those. So I might not have a wealth of experience in the bedroom department, but I know sexy, and this man is every definition of the word.

For the first time in my life I think I just came in my panties by proxy alone.

As hard as it is, I drag my eyes up to find him staring down at me.

"Oh, let me help." I jump up, causing my shirt to rise up my thigh and my uncorralled tits to sway under my shirt, and his eagle-sharp eye catches it all.

My face reddens as I reach out for our plates and return to the table adding a little sashay to my hips.

His bright eyes blaze hotter the sun as he levels them on me when he takes a seat next to me. "I hope you like chicken alfredo."

Not what I expect to come from his lips with a look like that on his face. Like it's me he'd rather devour for dinner than the food he prepared.

"Anything is heaven, thank you." And I mean that. I hold his gaze several beats to make sure he feels the sincerity in my words.

He frowns but doesn't respond other than a curt nod.

"Humor me and tell me again how you ended up with that bruise on your face."

Nice try. I never told him how, just that I would be fine and not to worry.

I shrug nonchalantly. "It's no big deal, nothing I can't handle." I try to play it off, but his sharp scowl says he's not buying it and something tells me he won't take a simple answer.

"You deserve a better answer than that, I guess." And it's true. He took me in when he could have sent me to a shelter.

I hold his blue eyes, and for a second I realize they are not truly blue. Not through and through. Gold specs are buried in the depths. Stunning.

He points to my plate and I savor the first bit, swirling the fresh sauce and buttery noodle over my tongue.

I moan and let my eyes slide close for a moment in sheer bliss. When I open them again, he's watching me intently. The heat hiding under the surface buried by worry and doubt rises.

I sigh and wash down my food with a glass of ice water he set in front of me.

One by one, I went through each event that led up to me sitting at his table in his T-shirt and with the nice shiner on my face. How I managed to leave SoCal behind to why I'm currently stripping to pay my way through school.

He nods while staying silent for a moment longer than my nerves can take. He's looking at the dark bruise on my face and down at his plate like he's talking himself out of a bad idea that involves someone else getting hurt.

"Why didn't you ask the committee for a meeting and get an extension earlier? You know the rules."

"I do and yes, you're right. It's my fault, I know. Time got away, and I didn't realize I actually would need an extension. I thought I would be able to pay today. I've been doing okay till now."

Finished, he takes our plates and sets them in the sink. Turning to another cupboard, he pulls out a first-aid kit and returns to the table.

"What changed?" he asks, pulling my chair closer until my knees are between his spread thighs.

"I didn't receive my paycheck on time and because you don't know you're going to have a problem until it's on top of you 99% of the time, I didn't know to ask for an extension. There was no warning management would withhold payment until the new owner took over."

"That's illegal, you know."

"I don't think they are worried about a handful of strippers with no bankroll for lawyers or a wannabe lawyer in training," I say, meaning me.

The gleam in his eyes tells me there's more going on in his head than the few short questions he's tossing my way.

"Why didn't you get help from your other family? There has to be someone?"

I scoff. "Who? My druggie father who just asked me for bail money? Brothers, aunts, grandparents? I'm an only child and thank God for the small miracle. All the others haven't cared about me since… frankly, I have no idea. One of them could walk through your front door right now and I wouldn't recognize them, that's how well I know my extended family." I sounded like some droning on whiny child, and that pisses me off. I don't let the bad get to me. I'm a silver lining kind of girl and I need to remember that.

" But to ease those worry lines that keep appearing on your forehead, I tried as you know. Only I was a day off, apparently. Kind of stupid of me, really. But come Monday I'll be speaking with my boss and try with the school again. I'll go from there."

"I have a better idea."

He pulls out a small bottle of some kind of cream that smells like mint and a mix of other soothing ingredients that smell familiar.

"How 'bout I pay tuition? Problem solved and you can repay me by keeping your nose in the books and your perfect ass off the stage for good."

What was that? My jaw hinges open stunned, but he carries on like he offers to help everyone pay their bills.

"This should help with the bruising and make it go down a little faster."

"Really? And you know this because you've had a handsy bookie backhand you?" I let the idle chitchat take over on autopilot as I absorb his offer.

Thankfully he doesn't push the offer and lets it slide. Good, because right now I don't know how to answer it one way or the other.

"Not quite. I managed to get banged up a few times in my military days. My brother too and my father before us. My grandmother got tired of seeing all the bruises and made this concoction that works better than anything I've bought from the pharmacy."

"Do you have a big family?"

He nods. Hmm. A man of so many words.

The plain truth of it is my face doesn't really hurt unless I smiled a bit too hard, but there's no use in spoiling the moment. His strong hands on me feel too good and I'm not about to throw on the brakes.

And he left it at that, applying the cream with gentle strokes with one hand, the other resting on my bare knee protectively. No, it's not the way he's resting his hand but how he's cocooned me between him and the wall at my back. His massive shoulders block out the view of the living room. I'd be lying if I said his bulky size didn't turn me on. He's like a protective wall. A shield…my shield.

I think on that for a minute. I've never had anyone care for me so tenderly. Not my mom or my dad. Maybe the nurse back in third grade when I fell and skinned my knees and palms. That is not even in the same realm as this, though.

I shiver when he turns my head to the side and inspects his work with a light touch. "I'll apply more in the morning after breakfast. You'll sleep in my room and I'll take the couch."

My eyes widen. All that space for me? No Maddox to share it with? "I didn't realize there was only one bed. You know we can share," I state coolly.

He holds a hand up with a frown. "No arguing. I'll take the couch."

Completely puzzled by his hot and cold spurts I'm starting to get irritated. "What are you afraid of? Look, let's not pretend I'm the innocent little student you think had some white picket fence childhood. I'm not some fragile doll you need to protect."

"Your face says otherwise. What kind of man hits a woman anyway? I hope you nailed him in the balls for his efforts."

"Not exactly, I'm not as brave you think," I answer. I push to my feet, needing air that isn't saturated with his consuming scent. It clogs up the gears and I'm having a hard time thinking straight. I pace the small area between the stove and table.

I feel his gaze on me tracking my movements. And the way his shirt rides high on my thigh.

He moves in, not touching me but close all the same. "Where the hell are the pants I told you to put on, anyway?"

He crosses the room, putting away the first-aid kit.

"They kept falling off."

He hisses something inaudible, but I pick up on the tone all the same.

I spot my phone where I left it on the counter when we first arrived and pick it up. I clear my throat uneasily. "Look, I appreciate your kindness, but I don't think this is going to work out. I seem to be putting you on edge, and you shouldn't feel that way in your own home. I have a friend that might be able to put me up for a night or two."

I turn to walk out of the kitchen and find my clothes, wet or not, and get the hell out of here. What was I thinking? I may have thought I could handle a man like Maddox, but I was wrong. Plus there's no way I want to stay in a house where the tension is so thick I can't breathe.

Unshed tears burn the rims of my eyes. Stupid heart for letting myself care for someone. Gah. I flick the screen on and pull up Rosalee's number.

"Like hell you are. No fucking way I'm letting you go stay at some frat boy's house." He turns me around, his nostrils flaring like a raging bull. "I never said you were not welcome here, so don't even try that angle, sweetheart."

His arms are around me and my face pressed into his chest as he hugs me tight. Just human to human contact feels so nice. It's strange and oddly so right. For a moment we are not the Dean of Blackthorne and a down-and-out stripper/college student about to lose my future.

We're simply Maddox and Amber caught up in the moment of a real connection, and the magic is as tangible as the man holding me like I'm a treasure.

And then it's gone. I peer up at him and see something shift behind those thick, black lashes, and he's the untouchable dean and I guess that makes me the off-limits girl again.

"How the fuck have you survived this long looking so damn innocent?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. He grabs my hand and leads me to his room in silence, and my heartbeat jackhammers like it wants to beat a hole through my chest. At the door he swings me around from behind him and releases my hand once I'm inside. With his hand on the knob, he says, "We'll talk in the morning. Get some rest."

And then I'm all alone again.

Anger and frustration well inside me. "Grr…tonight is going to be a very long night."