Chapter Four

James

I'm in the truck waiting for her to come out of the building. All in all, I'd say I handled that pretty well. I didn't beat the hell out of anyone. I didn't scream and holler, and I didn't tell her all the weird fucking things that have gone through my head for the past month. That, and I had her hands all over me for the past hour. If I could've taken anymore, I would've, but my cock is so close to bursting that I'm not sure how I'll make it home.

She's carrying a duffle bag over her shoulder when she steps down the ramp into the dimly lit parking lot. I hate how she comes out here all alone. It's not safe. Any kind of weirdo could be out here lurking, waiting to grab her up. They'd take a sweet little ray of sun like Kenzie, and they'd ruin her.

I won't let that happen.

As long as she's coming out here for school, I'll be here with her. Granted, I can't buy out a massage every time. Some days, I'll have to hide and watch from a distance, as torturous as that will be.

Kenzie settles her duffle bag into her truck and twists her long hair to the side before heading back toward me. I don't expect this development and my chest tightens. She was asking a lot of questions when I was in the chair and while I'd love to tell my entire life story, I'm not ready for her to judge me for everything I've done.

She knocks on the window of my truck. She's so small out there, standing with her arms folded over her chest. The sound of thunder echoes in the distance, and there's a stiff breeze blowing through the nearly empty lot.

I crack the door and she backs up, giving me space to hop out. "What's going on?"

"You tell me, and I don't want to hear shit anymore. I want the real deal. You tell me right now why you came out here tonight." I'm not sure what to do with this side of Kenzie. Sure, she's been emotional before, but this is different. She was emotional about woodstove ashes this morning, but usually she's not this aggressive. Trouble is, this version of her turns me on too. In fact, it might turn me on more. I like that she can be a sweet little angel and also clean the floor with my attitude if I need it.

"I told you why I ca—"

"No… not your bullshit story about wanting a massage. The real reason." She narrows her gaze. "You're standing out here to follow me home. Clients don't do that."

"Is that what I am? A client? I thought I was your friend."

She gasps. "My friend? You literally just started talking to me this morning. I've worked for you for three weeks. You're my employer, and now you're following me."

"I'm not following you."

"You're trying to."

"I told you, so that's not actually following."

She sighs. "You came out here because you knew I was here. Admit it. What do you want?"

She's so damn cute throwing this little fit that I'm tempted to lift her up into the truck and calm her down, but I resist, mostly because of the giant picture windows and the professor who hasn't taken his eyes off us. I wouldn't be surprised if that asshole has a thing for her too.

"I came out here for a massage. You gave me one. The end."

"You stopped me."

"It wasn't my thing." I shrug. "I don't like the oil. It's going to take days to scrub it off."

She rolls her eyes. "It's not the oil. Stop bullshitting."

"Look, it's getting late. We both have work early tomorrow."

"What if I don't want to work for you anymore?" she huffs.

My chest tightens. If she doesn't work for me anymore, I'm not sure what I'd do. Sure, it's only been three weeks, but it's been the best three weeks I've had in ages.

Having Kenzie around is like having a breath of fresh air around every corner. It's not about the house being clean or the meals being cooked, though she's good at those things. I haven't tasted food with as much flavor since she started cooking… but that's not the point. It's about her. She's bright, always smiling, always singing, always dancing. And even though I suck at emotions, conversations, and all the stupid shit most people are good at, that girl doesn't give up on me. At least she hasn't yet.

"You can't quit."

"I can, and I will. Tell me why you're here."

I swallow hard and stare at her. Her top cuts low and her large, heavy breasts are way too exposed. She's pulled on a heavy cable knit cardigan to keep her warm outside, but she's still showing too much skin. My cock aches and my palms itch to touch her.

"If I told you why I came tonight, you'd never talk to me again."

She stares toward me, her lips parted. "Say it or I'll drive away, and I'll never speak to you again."

There's a part of me that would call anyone else out on this bluff. In fact, I'd let just about anyone else drive right the fuck away and I wouldn't give another thought to it. But here, with Kenzie, the price is too high. If I lose her, I lose what little hope for happiness I have left.

I turn my back to the windows of the classroom and block the view of the professor before reaching out and gripping the back of her neck. It's a bold move, but the caveman in me is making decisions before my brain gives its approval.

My grasp is strong and steady.

She doesn't squirm. She stands tall and leans in. "What are you doing?"

"You want to know why I came out here tonight?"

With her lips parted, she nods.

"I came out here because I couldn't stand the thought of you touching all those other men. And when I saw it with my own two eyes, I nearly drove through the place with my truck."

Her soft lips part. "That's why you bought out the rest of the night?"

I nod. "And I will again next week, and the week after that."

"You're crazy." She's panting and her eyes dart down to my lips and back again.

"I'm not crazy. I'm determined."

"Determined? To do what?" she gasps. "Are you trying to scare the hell out of me, because you're acting a little psycho." Her tone is still low, and though she's saying these words, her body still hasn't moved from my grip. In fact, she's leaned into me a little more, which makes me wonder if maybe she sees something too.

"I'm not trying to scare you. I'm trying to protect you."

She laughs, though I guess it's facetious. "Right… protect me."

"You say it like you don't believe me."

"I'm just not sure what there is to protect me from."

"Everything, Kenzie. The world is a fucking mess. You shouldn't trust these men. You shouldn't trust your professor."

"But I should trust you?"

I suppose that's fair, considering I am the one who's stalking her. "I wouldn't hurt you."

"What's the goal here, James? You going to cut me up into pieces and take me home for soup?"

I narrow my gaze. "Don't be ridiculous."

She flinches away.

I shouldn't grip her tighter, but I do. I grip her tighter, lean in, and kiss her lips hard and fast.

The way this is going, I expect her to flinch away, but her tongue meets mine in a swirl of passion that catches us both off guard.

I can't breathe.

Her arms wrap around me, and her leg lifts up against my hip. I scoop into her thigh and run beneath her skirt, squeezing her thick round ass as she moans against my mouth.

My body moves with a mind of its own and the heel of her hand digs into my shoulder.

She reaches down and strokes my cock, brushing over my jeans again and again as she moans and exhales hot air against my neck. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," she pants. "Don't talk. Just keep touching me."

I palm over her panties and rub the hot, wet core of her frame. My fingers move against her swollen clit, and she moans, gripping tight to the back of my neck.

"Oh my God. The professor is coming," she whispers low.

I knew I should've driven through the building. I'm so close to feeling the inside of her tight little pussy that I can't stop myself. I stretch two fingers deep inside of her wetness and thrust, shaking the back of the truck with each move.

Her breath shudders. "Oh my God. I don't want you to stop, but he's coming."

I lean into her neck and bite her shoulder, thrusting and pushing over and over again until my fingers are soaked with her sweet juices and she's aching for relief.

"Everything okay here, Kenzie?" Professor Asshole stands at the end of my truck. I'm not sure what he can see. If he's an educated man, I assume he can infer what's happening, which makes it stranger that he's intruding.

"Yeah," Kenzie's voice cracks as I pull my fingers from her slick, wet folds, "I'm good. Just saying goodbye."

"Are you sure?" The professor steps forward. We're ten feet from a streetlight, shadowed in the darkness. "It looks like something's going on here. Do you need help?"

"No," she gasps, pushing up from the truck, "I'll be fine. Just heading home." She glances toward me and turns toward her vehicle. Her cheeks are flushed, and she stumbles away as though she's drunk. I like this look on her, and I need more.

Thunder rumbles through the sky and a raindrop falls.

The professor stands in the circle of the parking lot light and looks up at me. He wears a pair of wide legged, linen pants, a button-down Hawaiian shirt, and a slew of friendship bracelets that I'm sure he bought online because I don't see his friends anywhere.

"Do you two know each other?" he asks, brushing his shoulder length grey back away from his face.

"We do. Very well."

"How?" he probes.

I glance back toward Kenzie who's gotten into her car. I need to move too if I'm going to follow her back.

"She works for me." I step into the truck and shut the door, licking my fingers clean before I start the engine.

The professor's eyes widen and I'm sure he knows now where my hands have been, but I don't give a fuck. In fact, I like it this way.

Kenzie is mine, and the sooner everyone knows that, the better off we'll be.