Teacher's Bet: A Billionaire and Virgin Romantic Comedy Page 8

  Laughing, she ducks under my arms and makes her way to the spread I’ve laid out, grabbing a piece of bacon and taking a bite while she peruses the selection.

  “This is almost better than the selection at the Bellagio.”

  “Almost?” I tease.

  “Yeah, they had a mimosa fountain.”

  I turn and open the fridge. “Fountain it is not, but I do have the makings for mimosas.” I produce a bottle of champagne and a carton of orange juice and set them on the counter with a flourish. She looks at me in disbelief, her eyes bugging out of her head.

  “What. Not a fan of orange juice?”

  “I’ve just never had mimosas with fucking Moët.” She shakes her head.

  “Then you’ve never lived, my dear.” I pluck two champagne flutes from a cabinet and pour up our drinks.

  “Let me guess. Waterford crystal?”

  I tilt my head and grin. “What else would it be?”

  She laughs as she clinks her glass to mine, and I wrap her in my arms again. I can’t seem to get enough of her. I need to keep touching her, kissing her. It’s a new and unfamiliar sensation, but I think I could get used to it. One kiss turns into two, and before I know it, I’ve set our glasses down and am ready to devour her right here.

  “Wait,” she manages, placing a hand on my chest. “Not yet.”

  I pause. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” I didn’t even think that she might not be ready to go again after the three rounds last night. Maybe she needs time to get used to this, to work up to it? I honestly don’t really know how that works.

  She looks at me oddly for a second, then rolls her eyes. “I’m fine, Aiden. Maybe a little sore, but in the very best way possible.” She goes up on her tiptoes and kisses me perfunctorily. “I just need food now.”

  I laugh and grab plates for us. We fill them with all the breakfast foods I could come up with. Bacon, eggs, pancakes, berries, yogurt, even donut holes that I got up early to buy fresh from a bakery down the street. I know we’ll never eat it all, but what can I say? I wanted to over-deliver.

  We settle into the sofa in the living room that looks out over the bay. It’s normally what I spend my morning coffee time looking at, the sun shining over the water, making it shimmer, the boats sailing by. But this morning, I can’t take my eyes off the gorgeous woman sitting next to me.

  “Thanks for last night,” I say, not sure where the words are coming from. “It meant a lot to me.”

  She pauses, a strawberry halfway to her mouth. She doesn’t say anything for a second, her eyes unreadable. But then her face softens, and she gives me a little smile.

  “It meant a lot to me, too.”

  I don’t know where this is going, or how we’re going to work out the fact that not only are we nine years apart in age but she’s also one of my students, but I know in that moment that this isn’t enough. I want more of this. Nights with her in my bed. Mornings together. It might be crazy, but Olivia makes me happy in a way I’ve never known before.

  “What are you thinking?” she asks after a minute, taking a sip of her mimosa. “You got all serious looking all of a sudden.”

  “Just wondering what I might have to do to convince you to ditch school today and play hooky with me,” I say on the fly, not ready to express feelings that even I don’t understand.

  Her eyebrows shoot up. “Aiden,” she says reluctantly. “I know you don’t have classes on Tuesdays, but it’s early in the semester…”

  “That’s the best time to skip. And I’m sure one class won’t put you behind. What are you, a four-point-oh student?” When she nods, I laugh. “I knew it. So what will it take to keep you with me today?”

  “I can think of a few things.” A naughty smile spreads over her lips, and I’m really fucking glad that we’re on the same page.

  15

  Olivia

  The next few weeks fly by in a rush of study-filled days and sex-filled nights. Aiden and I still haven’t discussed what exactly we’re doing. I don’t know if he’s still just enjoying this student-teacher fantasy, because he sure does seem to like it when I call him Professor Hawthorne, or if it’s something more.

  It’s not hard for me to see that I’m falling for him. It would be really hard not to. I’ve learned so much about him over the past weeks, especially since I’ve not spent a single night in my dorm. We’ve spent night after night talking into the early morning, discussing everything from the mathematical patterns of the universe to the names of our childhood stuffed animals to what we both want to do with our lives to make an impact.

  And that’s how I ended up accompanying him to an inner city tutoring center today. It’s Friday, my short day at school, and Aiden’s class was my last for the day. We’re seated in his Ferrari making the drive into San Francisco. He reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together, and the smile he gives me is so tender it makes my heart stutter.

  “I’m honored that you wanted to bring me along today,” I say, feeling much shyer than I should with a man who knows me more intimately than anyone else in the world. Maybe it’s because I’m starting to realize just how much he means to me, that it’s not just sex for me, and I can’t help hoping that him sharing this part of his life with me means that he might feel the same.

  Aiden squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you wanted to come. It will be nice to have another person to help out. It can be tough when there are more kids needing help than people to help them. Plus, you’re my best student.” He winks. “Who else would I pick?”

  I force a smile, his answer not quite what I was hoping for. “Do you usually pick your best students to accompany you?” I ask, feeling a pang of jealousy. Out of nowhere, Annabeth’s words from the first day of school echo in my brain.

  I heard he banged one of his students in his office last semester. This semester, I want to be that girl.

  Suddenly, I feel sick. Have I been so high on Aiden that I’ve imagined this to be something that it’s not? Am I really just fulfilling his fantasy, like I’ve wondered before? And worst of all, what if this isn’t the first time he’s done this? What if he makes a habit of banging his students? Even though that’s not what it feels like to me, I have no idea where his head is at.

  Aiden frowns at me, glancing away from the road for a brief second. “This is actually the first time I’ve ever brought anyone with me. No one really knows I do this.”

  I feel a little foolish for so quickly jumping to conclusions, but I can’t completely shove aside the thoughts now that they’ve made an appearance. I smile at him, trying to look sincere, but I’m not sure it’s convincing. I spend the rest of the ride looking out the window, lost in thought.

  It doesn’t make sense for this to be real. Not truly. I mean, he’s Aiden fucking Hawthorne. He finally told me who his family is, and when he told me the name of the online empire, to say my jaw hit the floor is a gross understatement. He could have any woman he wanted. In fact, I’m surprised he’s never graced the cover of a magazine as “America’s Most Eligible Bachelor” emblazoned over his head. Yeah, he says he’s not into the celebrity that his status could bring him, and I have to admit that must be true because I’d never heard of him before. That doesn’t mean it makes any more sense that he would fall for an awkward, nerdy girl from a modest background who knows more about quantum physics that the mechanics of sex. Even though he’s thoroughly schooled me on those by now.

  I sigh as we climb from the car at the tutoring center. Try as I might, I can’t stop the nagging voice at the back of my mind now that I’ve thrown it a bone. It’s latched on and won’t let go.

  “What’s going on, Olivia?” Aiden asks, resting a hand on my hip as we walk up the front steps of the building.

  I stop just outside the door and turn to him, trying to read him, trying to see if I’m being crazy and letting my mind play tricks on me. But I just can’t tell.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

&nb
sp; He scrutinizes me. “We’ll talk later.”

  I nod. It wasn’t a question.

  While we’re at the center, I focus entirely on helping the underprivileged young students who are struggling to make it in a school system that doesn’t have the time or resources to take care of those who fall through the cracks. I also watch Aiden as he works with them, the passion he has for it evident. My heart squeezes painfully as I recognize what an incredible man he is. I love everything about him.

  I freeze, my brain coming to a screeching halt. Whoa. Wait. What? Back up there. I try to dismiss my silly thought, certain it’s just a turn of phrase. But as I continue to watch him, and everything I’ve learned about him over the couple months I’ve known him—if you count Vegas—plays back in my head, I know better.

  I’ve gone and fallen in love with my professor.

  16

  Aiden

  By the time we get back to my house from tutoring, I know for sure that something is up with Olivia. She’s been unusually quiet, and I’m starting to worry a little.

  She hasn’t responded like she usually does to any of my teasing, and when I told her to relax on the ride back, that I’d make her feel good, she just shook her head and said she was tired.

  Tired? I’m not an idiot. I know what that line means. She didn’t want me to touch her. Now, I know that I can’t expect that she’s always going to be ready to go at the drop of a hat, but fuck, she always has been until now. I keep wondering what I’ve done, but I’m drawing a blank.

  I’ll just have to make an extra effort. If something is bothering her, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s anything I’ve done. Who am I kidding? I’ve totally done something. I just don’t know what it is.

  We sit down on the sofa, and I pull her legs into my lap and remove her shoes. I’ve discovered she loves having her feet rubbed, so I get busy kneading and rubbing, working out the tight muscles and ligaments.

  Her head falls back on the pillow, and I notice that the line between her eyebrows that’s been there for the last few hours starts to ease a little.

  “There you go, baby. Just relax.” I reach for her hand and kiss her fingers before returning my attention to her feet.

  After a few minutes, I can feel her watching me. “What’s up?”

  “Aiden, what are we doing?”

  I smile. “I’m rubbing your feet.” I hold one up in the air and point.

  Normally she’d laugh. And she doesn’t. She just shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

  I do know it. I’ve thought about this myself so many times over the last few weeks. For me, what started as a fun night in Vegas almost immediately morphed into something more. Something I wasn’t able to put a name to. At least not at first.

  I wasn’t able to get her out of my head when I came back home, tormented that I’d never see her again. Then she showed up in my class, and I questioned my own belief in fate. And the last few weeks have cemented it for me. What I couldn’t name before is now glaringly obvious. Love. I fucking love this woman. Age difference be damned. It’s not like she’s your typical college student anyway. Her brain? Blows me away. Her body? Fuck yeah. But more than that, it’s just who she is. Every single day I’m with her, I know I don’t ever want our time together to end. She’s perfect for me in ever way.

  So yeah, there it is. I love Olivia. And I have no idea how to tell her.

  I blow out a breath and look at her. Time to have The Talk. I just hope we’re both on the same team. Fuck, I hope we’re playing the same fucking game.

  Setting her legs back down and sliding closer to her on the sofa, I turn to face her. “Yes, I know what you mean. What are we doing?” I gesture between us and gird my loins—by the way, why does anyone say that anymore? It’s a bit archaic. But anyway, that’s what I do, preparing to be fully honest with her. “If you’re asking me if this is just sex or just about the bet, I can definitively say no. Because it’s more than that for me. Way more.”

  Before I can say anything else, she sits up and grips my arm, her eyes searching mine as if they hold the secrets to the universe. Well, mathematically speaking, they kind of do. But these secrets are much more straightforward.

  “You mean this isn’t some wish fulfillment scenario? You aren’t trying to live out some secret student-teacher fantasy?”

  “What?” I splutter, completely taken aback. “You’re joking right?” But the hard look in her eyes tells me she’s dead serious.

  She sets her jaw, her eyes revealing nothing. “I need to know this, Aiden. It means, well… It’s just important that I know.”

  “Olivia,” I say, cupping her cheek. “I have to admit that I find it sexy as hell when you call me Professor. Or Dr. Hawthorne. What can I say? Maybe I’m a sick bastard.” I laugh, but she doesn’t even crack a smile. Okay, not a joking matter it seems. “All jokes aside, the idea of dating one of my students, much less fucking them, has never even crossed my mind. I can’t even go there, and don’t want to.”

  She gives me derisive glare. “Hello? Then what am I?”

  “Listen. Please. I’m saying this all wrong. Just bear with me.” I drag my hands through my hair, trying to find the right words. “I’ve never thought of you as my student. From the very first moment I saw you sitting in my classroom, I saw you as you. Olivia. My Olivia. If I never met you in Vegas, I can one hundred percent guarantee we wouldn’t be sitting here together right now. Because it’s a line I would never even think of crossing. You would have been just another student to me. Which is why I thank fuck that wasn’t the first time I met you. Because I can’t imagine my life now without you in it.”

  Her eyes soften, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Are you sure about that? You really don’t think you wouldn’t have even been curious about me?”

  I narrow my eyes and chuckle. “I’m a smart man, baby. I know that there’s no way to answer that question without digging myself a hole I can never climb out of.”

  She laughs and scoots closer, and I pull her onto my lap, one leg on either side of mine. When she places her hands on my face and kisses me slowly, then whispers, “I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” I arch an eyebrow.

  She smiles. “I mean the part about not being able to imagine your life without me in it. Did you mean that? Really?”

  “Totally and completely.” The words I long to tell her are on the tip of my tongue, but she has more to say.

  “I feel the same way, Aiden. This isn’t about sex anymore for me—it hasn’t been for awhile. Though I’m sure not complaining about that.” She bites her lip and wiggles her eyebrows.

  Then that worry line between her eyes appears again. “But what are we going to do? How are we going to keep doing this? It’s so risky, for both of us.”

  I sigh. “I don’t know. I’ve tried to figure it out. We’re almost halfway through the semester. If we can just keep it under wraps until you’re no longer officially my student, I think that will help.”

  She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t like it. “Believe me,” I say, “I would love nothing more than to proudly let the world know that you’re mine. But I think we can manage to find something to do in private for the next couple months, don’t you?”

  Rocking forward on my lap, she groans as my hard length makes contact with her pussy. Even fully clothed, she’s so responsive to everything. I fucking love it.

  “Yeah,” she sighs, “I can think of a thing or two.”

  17

  Olivia

  I’m in Aiden’s office a couple weeks later, giddy over how all my mid-term exams turned out. Pretty sure I aced them. Sitting up on his desk, I have my legs crossed as he scrolls through his email, finally ready to tell me what he has planned for Spring Break. He’s been hinting all week that he has a surprise for me while school is out, and I can’t wait to find out what it is.

  “Okay, you ready?” he asks, his hand riding dangerously high on my thig
hs. Without a second thought, I part my legs to give him easier access, glad I wore a skirt today. I seem to be doing that more and more lately. I guess I’ve turned into a regular little sex nymph.

  He turns his attention from the computer to stare at my pussy. “Fuck, Olivia. Have you given up underwear completely?”

  I shrug and smile impishly. “You aren’t mad, are you, Professor?” Now that I know he doesn’t actually have some student-teacher hang-up, I’ve really been getting into the role. “Because the last thing I would want is to get detention.” I bat my eyes innocently.

  He rolls his chair over a foot so that he’s positioned directly between my legs. “Actually,” he says, his eyes dark with hungry desire, “I don’t give detention to my students. I believe in a bit more hands-on method of correction.”

  “Oh, do you?” I ask.

  He stands up abruptly, and the chair flies back against the wall. Checking to be sure the door is locked, he stands in front of me, feet spread wide. “On your knees.”

  My breath whooshes out in a pant, and I immediately obey. This has taken an unexpected and thrilling turn. “What can I do to make it up to you, Dr. Hawthorne?”

  He pretends like he’s thinking, but I can tell from the gleam in his eyes that he already knows what he wants. “Open wide and let me come down your throat.”

  Oh god. Yes. I feel my pussy get even wetter as I look up at him and hastily free his straining cock from the confines of his pants. First, I lick the shaft, slowly, teasingly, swirling my tongue around the tip. Then I take him in my mouth, going down on him as far as I can and making up the difference by wrapping my fingers around the base.

  I begin to work my head up and down, hollowing out my cheeks and making my mouth as wet and tight as possible. I feel a thrill go through me as I continue to suck him off. Every time I’ve ever had the chance to do this, he ends up hauling me up before he comes, telling me he has to have my pussy. Not something I can complain about.