Professor Scott looks down at me, his dark eyes like lasers that sear right through me. My breathing falters and I ease back until my toes touch the solid floor. A breath of air is the only thing standing between us. Tonight, he’s swapped out his more subdued teaching attire for the sexy, dark, tailored look. The black pants make him appear long and lean, but I find my eyes drawn to the powder pink button-down, two buttons open to reveal a hint of chest hair. The sight takes me back to the VIP room, and a rush of heat burns through my entire body.
I recall his dark eyes filled with a combination of warning and lust. It’s the same look he’s giving me now, only ten times more intense. This is the kind of man who dominates in his relationships. He screams danger, but it’s not the kind I want to run away from. Rather, it’s the kind that draws a person in, lulls them into a false sense of security, and after taking them places they’ve never imagined, tears them apart and leaves them lying in tatters.
Still, like a helpless moth, I can’t help wanting to get closer. I’m drawn to his heat. I want to be burned.
He is the devil on my shoulder.
Even knowing this, I can’t turn away.
“You look like you could use a drink.” His voice is deeper than usual, and I wonder if that’s because he’s as affected by me as I am by him. Lifting his arm, I study his strong profile while he orders our drinks. I don’t realize how hard I’m staring until he holds up a glass in front of my face, a knowing smirk tugging at his full lips.
“Shit, thanks.” I down the amber liquid, gasping as it burns a path down my throat.
“That was mine, actually.” I blink rapidly, trying to focus through the sting and make sense of his words. He holds up a beer. “This would be yours.”
My cheeks flame and I burst out laughing, shaking my head as I take the bottle. “Oops. Sorry about that. I’ll buy you another.”
Instead of arguing, he lets me, watching in amusement as I attempt to flag down the bartender. It takes several tries before I finally give up and motion to him. With impressive skill, he uses his commanding voice to bring the guy over. I wish I had one of those—a booming voice, that is. Not only is it sexy as hell, but it can’t be ignored. At least, not the way Professor Scott uses it. Once again, I am transported back to that hotel room, to the way he commands my body and mind so effortlessly.
After he is served a fresh brandy, he watches me over his glass as he takes a taste. “So, you come here often?” he asks with a hint of amusement.
“Every Saturday.”
His brows lift in question. “No work on Saturdays?”
He’s baiting me, and I refuse to bite. “Nope. Saturdays are my play days.” I emphasize “play” hoping to garner some kind of reaction, but I get none. Saturday is the only day I requested off when I started working at the club, for obvious reasons. It’s the true start of the weekend, the one day I get to let down my hair and forget about work and school and immerse myself in pleasure, and I use it to my full advantage.
He hums and nods thoughtfully. “Here with friends?”
Peering over his head, I lift my chin, indicating Annie and the group that is now gathered around her, smiling and laughing, and all without me. “Looks like the gang is all here.”
Professor Scott glances over his shoulder, but his interest is not with them. When his eyes meet mine again, the hunger is plain for anyone to see, and a thread of anticipation tangles in my belly. “I’ve never been to this establishment. Stick around and have a drink with me.”
The low rumble of his voice does things to me, but as tempting as the offer is, I made myself a promise, and I need to stick to it. “Sorry, no. That’s probably not the best idea, wouldn’t you agree? I should be getting back.” Taking my beer with me, I step away from the bar.
Catching my hand in his, he holds me in place. I wait for him to say something—anything—until I realize that it isn’t what I’m waiting for him to say that I should be paying attention to—it’s what he’s not saying.
It’s all right there, in the knowing, teasing gleam in those onyx eyes. Lust. Intrigue. Promise. This isn’t over between us. Not by a long shot.
I can still feel the imprint of his fingers on my skin, long after I make my escape.
SEVEN
I lost count of how many drinks I had around number seven. Seeing as seven is my lucky number, I can’t go wrong. Stepping onto that stage tonight seems like a pretty good idea from where I’m standing, which is on top of my chair.
“If you don’t stop shaking your ass like that,” Brody chides, “you’re gonna bust an ankle.”