37. Nyssa

37

NYSSA

SPRING IS COMING WITH A STRAWBERRY IN THE MOUTH - CAROLINE POLACHEK

I've never been more nervous in my life.

I'm seated at one of the small tables outside a local café, pretending I'm not searching the crowds for his face. Midafternoon on a Saturday, it feels like everyone in Castlebury's out and about, enjoying the breezy spring weather.

A stiff breath shakes out of me, my fingers wrapped around the cup of coffee I've been sipping on for the last twenty minutes.

He's late.

He's never late.

Professor Theron Thurman Adler prides himself on being punctual. He's a man of routine. A man of structure and stability.

…or at least he was until he spent the last two years of his life on trial for murder.

Murders I subtly pushed him to commit, even if I hadn't understood the full extent of what I was doing.

My eyes clench shut at the difficult memories. I had been wrong about so many things and hadn't known I was. My entire life had been a lie.

The woman who I believed to be my mother was really my aunt.

The man who I was told was my father was of no blood relation at all. He didn't even really exist.

My real father was a vile man who tried to destroy my mother—and succeeded once he'd tarnished her reputation and then ran her through with a knife.

Then the man I'm in love with ran him through with a knife.

The same man who was once in love with my mother many years ago…

I've tried to reconcile what it all means, and the only conclusion I've drawn is the same one I'd sensed from the beginning.

I can't stay away from Theron.

Every moment he's been away has felt like agonizing torture. It's felt like a piece of myself has been missing.

He has my heart.

And I have his.

Five minutes go by and then another ten.

My latte gets cold. The people seated at the tables around me eventually leave and new customers trickle in. Caffeine sets in and makes me jittery, my knee bouncing in place.

He's not coming.

I sigh, working through the devastating level of disappointment, and then I remind myself it's justified. He lost two years of his life have been because of me. Because he chose to take the fall for things I had taken part in. He was forced to defend himself in a court of law, and though he was found not guilty, his reputation was irrevocably ruined .

I never once wrote him. I never visited.

Instead, I obsessed over him from afar. His sister, Theo, became my avatar. The only means I had for contact.

He probably assumed I didn't share his feelings.

It must've looked as if I'd forgotten him and moved on.

If only he understood I kept my distance to protect him. I was staying away to avoid tarnishing his reputation any further in the eyes of the public. What would they think if they found out Theron Adler not only could be the Valentine Killer, but he had taken advantage of one of his female students?

I knew the truth. We both did.

But no one else would get it.

In the public's view, I would seem like a lost young woman. He would seem like a predatory older man, already accused of unthinkable crimes.

The best thing was to keep my distance. Protect his reputation the only way I could…

It doesn't matter now.

What's done is done. Theron has every right to feel betrayed. He has every right to never want to see me again.

My throat aches as I swallow against a tide of heartbreak and push my chair back to get up. I'm halfway out of the chair when the face in the crowd is finally the one I've been searching for.

Among the half a dozen other passersby coming and going on the sidewalk, Theron appears, looking just like I've memorized him in my mind.

He's as tall and lean as ever, the jeans and Henley shirt he wears clinging to him in all the right ways, hinting at the muscle tone underneath.

His hair's still ruffled and floppy, like he's recently run a hand through it, and the stubble that peppers his jawline only accentuates how angular it is.

His glasses sit obediently on his straight nose, hardly doing anything to disguise his dark and intense eyes, instead adding to his usual severe and authoritarian vibe.

I'm breathless watching him approach. My skin warms, all thoughts vanishing.

I'm back to being a nervous wreck like I'd been years ago when I'd first bumped into him in the corridor of Harper Hall.

He stops before me, his hands deep in his jean pockets. "Miss Oliver, what a coincidence. I was just coming by for some coffee. Is this seat taken?"

I smile without even thinking about it, then shake my head. "It's all yours."

"Excellent. A wise woman once said bribing people with caffeinated beverages is quite effective."

"Well, she tried it on her crim law professor after she spilled his coffee on him. Do you think it worked?"

His eyes gleam staring at me from across the small table. "I'd say it more than worked. I believe he became infatuated with her to the point of turning into a national headline on the news."

"I wish… I almost wish he hadn't," I say, my smile fading. "Because it wasn't what he deserved."

"You should know, he doesn't regret a thing." Theron leans closer, holding my gaze captive, a lock of his hair curling against his brow. His closeness immediately puts me under his spell, making it impossible to look away. "I regret nothing, Nyssa. Every last thing I did was for you, which will never make it wrong. I would happily do it all over again if it meant getting to be with you even for a minute. "

The emotion I've been holding in finally rises up and breaks free. I find myself drawing in a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the man before me.

After everything he's been through, there's no bitterness to be found. No judgment or anger.

The only thing to be found is… fondness.

Genuine, sincere adoration that makes me feel unworthy and renders me speechless.

"You can have me for much longer than a minute," I choke out in a hoarse voice. "You can have me as long as you want me… which, I hope, is a very long time."

He reaches across the table, his thumb smoothing along the curve of my cheekbone. "Trust me when I say, Nyssa, I want you every day of the rest of my life."

We talk for hours.

We talk so long, the sun sets and the café closes. Neither of us wants our time to come to an end, so we get creative.

Any surroundings fade to the background as we walk the streets of Castlebury.

I update Theron on what he's missed since he's been away. I'm estranged from Aunt Brooklyn after all the lies and deceit she's put me through and I've graduated top of my class from Castlebury's law school. I'll be taking the bar soon and then the rest of my future's wide open.

Theron tells me what the last two years were like for him. He tells me how the police officers of the Castlebury PD treated him and how he grew to like the structure and routine of life behind bars. He explained how he'd received fan mail from all over the country—often from fanatical women who were closely following the nationally covered news story and found him dark and alluring.

"Some proposed marriage," he says with a scratch to the back of his neck. "One told me I was the third serial killer she had proposed to. She seemed to think the third time would be the charm."

"Theron, you have a fan club! Just what every sulky, loner law professor wants."

"Sulky? What do you mean sulky? "

"I'm sorry, does that hurt your feelings?" I laugh.

"I am not sulky. Brooding? Sure. A little short-tempered and condescending at times? Perhaps. But sulky? What am I, a fifteen-year-old girl menstruating?"

"See, there it is! You're being sulky right now!"

His face darkens as he stops us under the soft glow of a gas lamp and I find myself backed up against the limestone wall of a nearby shop. I'm biting down on the smirk threatening to take hold while he's glaring into my eyes.

He thumbs my cheek and leans closer, as if about to kiss me. He's already studying my mouth.

A frisson of excitement racks through me, making me shudder on the spot. It's little moments like these that I've missed. The few seconds leading up to our kiss. The smooth touches and quick banter that get my heart racing and pussy throbbing.

Theron draws my face toward his 'til our mouths align and I can feel his warm breath on my lips. "I see you want the first order of business tonight to be punishment, Miss Oliver. Please believe I will make you come to regret it."

"Just so long as you make me come, I don't care, Professor."

My naughty smirk blooms in the split second before he silences me with a hard kiss .

At the touch of his lips, the tiny sparks of excitement explode. Blood rushes my veins, creating a pulsing rhythm in my ears. Sheer adrenaline washes over me and leaves me dizzy and spinning.

It's like our first kiss all over again.

It is our first kiss all over again.

After two years without Theron, I'm a woman dying of thirst in the desert. Feeling his warm lips against mine for the first time in so long, it's water touching my tongue, quenching me in a way only he can.

I've spent every moment of the last two years waiting for him. I've gotten myself off dozens of times to the mere thought of him. Celibate for two years, I haven't so much as looked at another man since.

My mind, body, soul, all crave Theron Adler and only him.

My heart belongs to him.

As he pushes me back against the smooth limestone, I'm sliding my hands up his chest. I'm reaching for the back of his neck to pull him even closer, like I can't get enough of him. His firm, lean body traps mine in place, and his mouth elicits a moan out of me.

It doesn't matter that we're on a public street.

We're off in our own little world, kissing in the brisk night, celebrating our reunion.

His tongue strokes against mine in a sensuous dance. I play along, teasing him in return with soft flicks that only make him more aggressive.

He grips me tighter and wedges his knee between my legs as if half a second away from hoisting me off the ground.

Catching himself at the last possible second, his mouth travels to my jaw for more peppered kisses .

When he pulls back completely, the carnal hunger is visible on his face. His eyes are dark and cloudy while his nostrils flare. He licks at his lips like he's attempting to taste me still, then he squeezes my hips.

"Do you… want to take this somewhere?" he asks huskily.

I can't contain the smile that lights up my face. "Peaches has missed her bestie."

The night's a passion-fueled blur. We find our way back to my apartment, where we proceed to strip off our clothes and collapse in bed.

The sex between us is raw and animalistic.

Needy and desperate.

It's a homecoming long in the making.

My pussy clenches around Theron's cock as I come for the third time. My orgasm ripples through me and breaks me into a million little pieces of pleasure.

He's between my thighs, stroking away. His expertise feels even more poignant after so long apart, as he rolls his hips and his cock reaches parts of my pussy that make me see stars. I can only cry out as my body seizes up and I sink nails into his arms.

He slips deeper, so thick and engorged inside me that my walls spasm around him. He comes in close to capture my lips, still gyrating away. Still torturing me from the inside.

He bites my jaw and nuzzles my neck. His breaths husk out of him, ragged and masculine, like he can't hold off much longer. He's right on the edge.

I wrap my arm around his shoulders and rock with him. My pussy massages his dick, knowing how crazy it drives him when I do.

He's only able to stroke into me a few more times before he finally gives in. He comes with a hoarse grunt, a fist in my curls to tilt my face and smash my lips to his. We melt into each other at the peak of our pleasure, so lost it takes us a moment to mentally return to the bed where we lay.

I meet Theron's eyes when they open and brush away the loose strand of hair that's fallen over his brow. "I've missed this so much. I've missed you…"

He bows his head to drop a tender kiss on my lips and then takes his spot beside me in bed. I'm brought with him, his arms slipping under me to drag me closer.

"I'm here now," he says. "It's safe to say everything we've been through has been leading to this. This moment where we can finally be together."

Excitement rings through me at the mere possibility. "I'm no longer your student."

"And I'm no longer a professor at Castlebury." He gives a gruff, sardonic laugh at that. Half a bitter sound and half genuine relief and amusement.

I place my hand on his chest and kiss where his heart lives underneath. His flesh is warm and soft, lightly peppered with hairs. I could touch and feel him all night long and still want more.

Just the fact that he's here in my bed, alive and well, feels surreal.

A part of me is so paranoid, I'm worried I'll close my eyes only to open them again to find the room empty. He was simply a figment of my imagination.

Theron runs his hands up and down my naked curves, as appreciative as ever. He's keeping me anchored to him as though similar thoughts occupy his mind. He'll let me go, and I'll disappear. He'll still be in his jail cell.

I rest my chin on his chest and peer curiously at him, studying the subtle signs of aging on his handsome face. Things like the crease of his brow and the sporadic silver hairs in his stubble that make him even sexier than he'd been just two years ago.

"You were brilliant in the courtroom," I say. "I watched every minute of the trial."

The corner of his mouth quirks, almost forming a grin. "I hoped you would."

"Professor, were you showing off for me?"

"Possibly," he admits. Then he lets out a short laugh. "It was surprisingly easy work dismantling the prosecution's argument."

"You were clever to discredit Officer Brewster and the others."

"He was an easy mark. Very impatient and hot-tempered. I learned that much from the night they brought me in for questioning."

"And the doubt you cast on the medical examiner's testimony… I got chills."

He runs a gentle hand over my curls, cupping the back of my head. "I prepared for the case as if I were teaching your class. As if it were just another case study we were reviewing."

"I hope I'm half as good as you if I ever have to defend a case like it."

"As a defense attorney," he says sternly. " Not the defendant."

"I always thought it was a possibility. Doing what I was doing. There was a chance I'd get caught…"

"And you wanted to understand the legal system," he says, repeating my words from two years ago. He pulls me further up 'til I'm hovering over him and he's a second away from bringing me down to kiss him. "Suddenly, it all makes sense why you chose law school over art. You're so fucking exquisite, Nyssa."

"I feel the same about you."

"There's a lot for us to figure out. I'm no longer a professor and my reputation's tarnished—not guilty verdict be damned. I have some offers from publishers for book deals and a sizable inheritance stashed away, but I'm aware I come with baggage. There are some in society who will always look at me as the Valentine Killer, and I'll probably never have a tenured position again at any university. I'm twice your age, and I'm a boring man of routine. I like books and staying in most nights.

"But we can do it. If you're up for the challenge. I can promise you I will always seek to make you happy. I will sacrifice it all for you like I've already done. I'll give you my heart and love you unconditionally until I'm old, feeble, and finally dead."

I kiss him softly, going at a slow pace. "Theron, I'm already yours. I've been yours. Maybe a lot longer than we realized. I know it's not reincarnation. It can't be. But I'm not sure this isn't some kind of… I don't know… divine intervention either."

"You mean by your mother?"

"Anything's possible, right?"

He pulls me in for another kiss. "I've come to realize that's truer than I ever imagined."

THE END