My Professor's Secret

18|

eighteen

A sigh of relief escapes me while scrubbing the last bit of grime off the final table amidst closing the restaurant tonight. Naturally, Kevin thought it best for Trevor and I to close again—spewing nonsense about how he never had to worry about the place not being up to par in the morning with us working the closing shifts. Whatever his intentions were for holding the both of us for closing Hinkhouse didn't matter much after mentioning he'd be giving me a two dollar raise for my stellar performance. Which was in part had everything to due with the constant affirmations Trevor instilled in me.

I latch my palm around the bucket of once crystal clear water and head to the supply closet to dump it. That's when I caught of glimpse of Trevor lingering in the lounge struggling to untie the knot he made to keep his apron tightly secured around his figure. The bucket steals my focus momentarily until there's nothing but the residue of bubbles and the smell of lemon escaping into the atmosphere from the scent of freshness we used to clean with. By the time I make it to the lounge, he's still struggling to remove the knot.

"Here," A delicate whisper falls from my lips despite it only being the two of us left in the building. "Let me help you."

He doesn't object. Instead he shoots me a steady nod and turns his back towards me to allow it. It takes seconds for me to relieve him of the knot constraining him to his uniform and once I manage to, he turns to me, cheeks crimson and flustered before issuing a thank you.

We both part away from each other to shuffle in our bins for our personal items. The sound of his keys clanking together is the only noise filling in the lack of communication happening to between us until it stops abruptly and the sound of his weight against the floor increases as he closes in on me again. 

I could almost feel the warmth of his being burning the side of my body the closer he got. The dryness and growing lump in my throat felt as sandpaper while attempting to swallow away the creeping nervousness growing within me. He stops in his place, eager for my attention to find him and once I've finally mustard up enough courage to return his look of engagement, my eyes pull to his lips.

His tongue glides effortlessly across his bottom lip, bringing them back to life in color and moisture until he take the remaining steps between us. The smell of his cologne burn my nostrils as I inhale the depths of his scent.

"I don't know how much longer I can pretend being alone with you doesn't drive me insane," he growls in a whisper. His lips graze the point of my ear in a swift breeze sending electricity coursing through every nerve in me. The weight of my body almost completely collapsing at the mere thought of his hands against my skin. I surprise myself with my next response.

"So don't."

His hands navigate my body until finding the small of my back and pulling me into his chest. Our gaze find one another for a moment and something about the dusty shade of ash in his eyes take hold of my last shred of restraint and our lips find each other effortlessly. He drops his satchel and chain of keys from his hands and we find ourselves gravitating towards the table in the middle of the room, lips moving against each other one hundred miles a minute, only stopping to gasp for quick breaths until finding each other once more.

I'm weightless when his hands travel down to my bum. Adrenaline exploding inside me as he grips ahold of it to hoist me around his waist and place me on top of the table before us.

"The things I want to do to you," he says, nearly breathless due to the intensity of our lip lock. "Tell me to stop and I won't continue." But nothing—not even the thought of objection crosses my mind. Nothing but the growing stiffness against my groin providing me with the clear indication that I indeed did not want him to stop. Suddenly the thought of our bodies never being this close again, steals my subtleness. I never want to go another moment without the rush his body is sending me. "Let me make you feel good, baby," he says, breaking the synchronization between our kisses.