Passionate History by Libby Waterford

Author:Libby Waterford
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Published: 2014-08-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

When the dust had settled, she’d finally removed her now very damp and sticky skirt, and Aidan had emptied half a box of tissues tidying them both up, Bree allowed herself a moment of panic. She was naked, in sheets that smelled like Aidan, her body limp with exhaustion, her pussy swollen in the best way possible from two consecutive champion orgasms. Their heart-to-heart and sexual tension had led to the most intense erotic experience of her life. Going into the day, she hadn’t exactly expected that.

The man in whose bed she lay was a cipher. He acted so reserved and buttoned-up in the real world and then turned out to be the most sensual, intuitive, passionate lover she’d ever known. She feared he’d be the best she’d ever know. And where did that leave her? He’d be fine; he only had to find another lucky girl who would worship the ground he walked on once she discovered he was a sex god disguised as a stuffy professor. But Bree would always be looking for someone else who could make her feel supremely feminine and supremely powerful and supremely satisfied all at the same time.

You could stay with him, a tiny but persistent voice in her head told her. She could apply for the graduate program and, in the meantime, get a job, maybe at Weston, maybe substitute teaching in the village. There was an outdoor school not far away. She could probably get work there in a minute if she tried.

But why? Because of Aidan? To be near a man? Following a guy was the one thing she’d never done in all her years of exploration and traveling. She always went someplace because she wanted to go there, stayed because it suited her needs.

If she needed Aidan more than she needed freedom, what did that mean? Who was she, then?

Difficult to think critically when one was jet lagged and in a post-sex stupor. Aidan had disappeared, but when he came back, she really ought to dress and leave, no matter it was the middle of the night, or she had no car, or the rain hadn’t fully stopped. The cold, dark campus outside couldn’t break her heart. And she was afraid she was falling in love with her art history professor. If she didn’t leave now, she might never be able to summon the strength needed to walk away from the most sublime lover, the most magnificent man, she’d ever known.

She was half in, half out of the bed, reaching for her clothes, when Aidan appeared in the doorway. He was dressed solely in a pair of running shorts, and she stared for a long moment at the smooth plane of his chest and his powerful legs. She always thought of him in conservative Oxford shirts and chinos. The man wore loafers, for goodness’ sake. But he clearly did more physical activity than just hiking. He wasn’t brawny but smoothly muscled, without an ounce of fat on his frame.

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