Pushing the Limits(31)

"Oh, right." I swallow. "Sorry … I'm just …  you make me a little nervous," I admit and wish I could stop rambling.

His hand reaches out and caresses my cheek. I press my face into his  palm and my eyes flutter closed. I feel his other hand wrap around my  waist and close the gap between us.

My eyes open just as I feel his breath against my lips. "You make me  more than nervous, Aspen Evans." He leans down and brushes his lips  softly against mine. "You look absolutely breathtaking, by the way.  Simply gorgeous. It's going to be impossible to keep my eyes off you all  night."

"Then don't." I press my lips to his, craving just a taste of him. I  know we're alone in the hallway, but I a part of me still feels anxious  at the thought of getting caught.         

     



 

Although it makes kissing my professor that much more exciting.

He takes a step forward, making me take a step back. He takes another  and another and soon my back is pressed firmly against the wall. His  mouth moves more aggressively, pulling my lower lip in between his and  sucking it lightly before pressing his tongue against mine. I wrap my  arms around him, feeling his taut muscles against my fingers.

I moan into his mouth and as soon as he hears it, his hips grind against me and pin me to the wall in a blistering hot kiss.

"Morgan … " I say on a soft whimper.

"Say it again," he demands against my lips.

"Morgan," I whisper. He grabs my wrists and lifts my arms over my head against the wall.

He moves his mouth down my jaw and lands on my neck. My arms tighten  around him, feeling his arousal against my lower stomach. I fight the  urge to reach down and wrap my fingers around him. My body shivers, both  in excitement and nerves. His lips travel up to my ear and he sweetly  pulls it in between his lips.

"If you kiss my neck and suck on my ear, your pants are coming off." The  words come out of me without permission, but the moment they release  from my lips, he nips my neck.

"Jesus Christ … " he growls in my ear.

I feel his lips form into a knowing grin as he presses one last kiss  against the flesh of my neck. "Just when I was trying to talk myself out  of taking advantage of you, I'm reminded that you may be the one taking  advantage of me."

"No one said willpower was easy." I wink and he lets out a soft laugh.

"Screw willpower." He kisses me once more before the voices from the front get louder. "Shit."

"I think we have to get back to civilization."

"Unfortunately." He frowns. He takes a couple of steps back giving me  room to adjust myself. I comb my fingers through my hair and fix my  lipstick. My lips feel swollen, and I'm sure someone is going to notice.

I decide I should walk back first to avoid any suspicions. My heart is  nearly beating out of my chest, but not because of the reasons before.  This reason is a much better excuse. I look over my shoulder and see his  eyes fixed on me as I walk away. "Find me later, Professor." I wink and  confidently walk away.

The only thought in my mind as I walk back to the front is how much I  want to kiss him again … and again and again, and how I want to do much  more than kissing.

Screw rules and consequences. I don't want meaningless one-night stands anymore.

I want someone who understands me on a deeper level. Someone who's  passionate about what I'm passionate about. Someone who could grasp the  pain and emotional baggage I carry around.

I want that someone to be him-Morgan Hampton.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MORGAN



I don't know what came over me, but the moment my lips touched hers  again, I was helpless to stop. Seeing her in that tight red dress that  hugs her curves like a second skin, add the plunging neckline that  accentuates her perfect breasts, and I was a goner. On a normal day, I  was out of control around her, but this threw me straight over the edge.

I'm drawn to her and refuse to fight it any longer. Knowing she feels the same way has me itching to get her alone again.

Aunt Mel is furiously bouncing around, double and triple checking that  everything is set to go. I know she's a perfectionist, so I pull her  aside. "Where can I help?"

"Oh, Morgan." She sighs. "You're here to enjoy. Don't you worry."

I eye her suspiciously. "Let me help."

"Well, jump in anywhere if you insist." She finally smiles. "Just don't  forget to have fun, too." She winks and leans in to kiss me on the  cheek. I plan to enjoy myself, just not the way she's probably thinking.

Soon the doors open and people swarm in. I walk in between people,  greeting and welcoming them to the event. I keep my eyes out for Aspen,  wanting any excuse to look at her. She looks completely flawless,  smiling and chatting. I hear a sweet laugh come from her, which  completely lights up the room. I wish I could wrap my arm around her and  claim her for everyone to see. But I know I can't, and I know I sound  ridiculous for even wanting to claim her, but I can't help the way she  affects me.

I haven't felt this way in years, and I feel high just thinking about  it. There's no doubting that everything about her consumes me. I've been  infatuated with her for weeks and now that I know what her lips and  body pressed against me feels like, I only want more. More of her.

Everything is going amazing until I see that douchebag, Shane, walk up  to her. She keeps her eyes low, but his hand on her arm doesn't go  unnoticed. In fact, my blood boils at just the sight of him.         

     



 

I hate that she even gives him the time of day, but I know we can't go  public with whatever we are. It's too new to even discuss it at this  point. However, that doesn't mean I want to watch another guy draped all  over her.

After a few minutes of balling my hands into fists, I decide to  interrupt their little chat. I grab two champagne glasses off a tray and  walk over to her. "You looked like you could use a drink."

"Well, thank you," she says, grabbing it and turning her body toward me.

Shane clears his throat and grabs Aspen's attention back. "Oh, Morgan,  this is Shane. Shane this is Morgan, Ms. Jones' nephew." I don't want to  be anywhere near the guy, especially not touch him, but I plaster a  fake smile and shake the moron's hand.

"Ah, the nephew. Explains why you're here then."

We release hands, and I furrow my brows. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing." His eyes scan over me and then move to Aspen, his lips tilting up into a knowing smirk.

What the fuck does that mean?

"You're working at the school, right?" he asks as if to throw it in my face.

"He's my art professor," Aspen interrupts. Although she means to take the focus off me, she ends up only encouraging him.

"Well, you know what they say? Those that can't do, teach." He pats me on the shoulder with a tight squeeze and excuses himself.

My eyes narrow as I watch him walk away. If I didn't have an appearance to uphold, I'd punch him until I saw blood.

"Ignore him," Aspen says, annoyance in her tone. "He's an idiot."

"Clearly."

She cocks her head and a small smile surfaces. "Seriously … he's not even  worth being pissed over. He's a decent guy normally, but he's just mad I  won't go out with him."

"You won't?" My brow arches. Does that mean he sees me as a threat then?

"Don't act so surprised. I do have standards, you know." She grins.

"Good to know." I take a sip of my champagne and continue staring at her.

"I have to get to my exhibit. People are starting to wonder around and  Ms. Jones will have a mini heart attack if I don't get a few buyers."

"Well, you'd have a buyer in me, but I can't seem to find what I'm looking for."

"Is that so?" she asks as the realization hits, biting her lip. "You wanted to buy one of mine?"

"Of course. I'd only been asking you to put a piece in for the past  month." I know the student pieces aren't for sale, but I would've made  Ms. Jones make an exception for me.

"Well, you could've told me. Or just asked."

I lean in and softly whisper in her ear, "And what fun would that have been?" I lean back and wink at her.

I sip back the last of my drink and walk back through the crowd. I know  she has a job to do so I busy myself with the silent auction.





An hour passes since I've felt her body against mine, rather pinned her  against the wall and made love to her lips, and yet I'm anxious to be  near her again. I want to know what she's doing, what she's thinking,  and if she's thinking the same thing I am.

Kissing her feels like an addiction-one I don't ever want to recover  from. It felt different from before-much more intense and passionate.  It's validated everything I've been wondering about.

Walking around from painting to painting with a glass of champagne in my  hand, a tap on my shoulder grabs my attention. I spin around and nearly  lose my grip on the stem of the glass when I see her.