Surprisingly she straightened, shaking her head. “No. That won’t be necessary.”
“Good. Meet me in my office in ten minutes. Do you know where it is?”
The smile that curved her lips made something sink in my stomach.
“Of course I do.”
Of course she did. I stood, all but dismissing her with the completely unamused look I gave her. It just made her smile grow.
“Ten minutes, Miss Morello.”
“Yes, Professor Easton,” she whispered and gave me a mock salute with two black polish-covered fingers. Adele sauntered away from my desk. Such a cliché word, such a trite description for the way she moved, loose-limbed and long-legged, her hips pivoting to the side with each movement.
Well shit. Now what the fuck was I going to do?
Chapter Five
The walk from the classroom building to my office was short, but the fact that I was keeping my eyes peeled for Adele the entire time made it feel eight times longer. September was the busiest time on campus, all the students still high on the social aspect of starting a new semester, none of the pressures of midterms or finals having started yet. I dodged someone on a scooter, and glared at him when he just shrugged his shoulder at me.
Occasionally, there were days when I wondered why I put up with the bullshit at a state university when we were close enough to many of the Ivy League schools on the east coast. The true intellectuals went there, for looming, greenery-covered brick buildings and history so deeply embedded that you could fairly smell it just walking on the grounds.
But Eastons were just as embedded in Northern University, my father still serving on the board after retiring as a professor in the business program, so it wasn’t as if I really had a choice. He already thought I was a fuck-up, majoring and teaching in the arts, rather than something that garnered respect. And then Diana, well … that had only served as more ammunition.
When your son basically kills his own wife, he isn’t much to brag about.
“You’re late.”
My head snapped up as I rounded the corner to my office. Adele was leaning up against the wall just next to my office door, only her back touching the surface behind her. The way her lower body stuck out a bit looked horribly uncomfortable, but I knew exactly why she was doing it, jutting her hips out like that. Because it’s how I’d almost fucked her up against the wall in the alley outside the bar.
I flicked a glance at my watch and raised an eyebrow at her while I pulled my keys out of my pocket.
“Actually, I’m not. You’re early, which is an entirely different issue. When I said ten minutes, I meant it.”
Pulling the key from the doorknob, I pushed open the door and gestured Adele ahead of me. For a second, she just stared at me, her eyes roaming my face.
“You’re now cutting into the ten minutes, Miss Morello, and I don’t do well with people wasting my time.”
With a sigh, she pushed off the wall and brushed past me, much closer than was necessary. I managed to hold my breath, so as not to inhale any of her scent. I’d done enough of that the other night, when I’d licked up the side of her neck.
Walking into my small, cramped office, I didn’t give her another look until I’d made my way to the other side of my massive desk. She hadn’t sat in either of the chairs opposite from me, instead she kept her hands braced on the back of the one closest to the door. In no way was that particular position an accident, because it made her white shirt gap in a way that I could see straight into her cleavage. Far enough down, in fact, that with one quick glance I could see the black lace edges.
Same bra.
Of course she was wearing the same bra.
“Miss Morello, please take a seat,” I said, sounding exactly as annoyed as I felt. The sharp curve of her chin lifted a fraction, and she narrowed her green eyes in a way that I’m sure she thought was playful. All it did was ratchet my annoyance into surging anger at the fact that I was even in this fucking mess to begin with. All because I got into the wrong woman’s pants.
“I think I’m more comfortable standing, actually.”
“Suit yourself, I’ll make sure this doesn’t take too long.”
“Well, that’s a change from the other night.”
Bracing my folded hands on my desk, I leaned forward and met her gaze. “I’m not sure if you thought I was joking earlier about kicking you out of my class. I assure you that I’m not.”
Adele lifted both hands in mock surrender, then made a motion across her lips like she was locking a key. It was almost humorous, because we both knew—myself with startling, vivid memories—that Adele was not quiet.