“She has amazing talent as a writer, but what she writes—” I started, frustrated by the need to explain any of it as if I were a naughty child being scolded. If I said they moved me, Jeff would just make another dismissive dick joke? I paused for a beat. “Her words paint a picture, and I was completely sucked in. I wanted to help her career, but I wasn’t dumb enough to believe that if we got into a room and talked about it or started writing about sex, or worked closely together, that I’d be able to resist her.”
Jefferson sat back in his chair and wiped his mouth with the white linen napkin that the waiter had laid in his lap at the start of our meal. “That’s something, at least. If only your dick and constitution were as strong as your intentions,” he chided.
My jaw set. He was so fucking predictable; I wondered how he ever won a court case. His opponents surely knew is every move in advance.
I was ready to blow, and I knew the restaurant wasn’t the place to do it, so I leaned forward so I could lower my voice. I was seething. “Who in the hell do you think you are to lecture me? The women you screw are little more than high-class hookers!”
He smiled arrogantly. “Humph! It’s a lot safer than going balls deep with some little damsel in distress who will turn devious once she has you where she wants you. I’m just asking you to use the head above your belt before you risk the family reputation by using the one below.”
God! I thought furiously.
“When did you turn into such a sanctimonious and condescending bastard? I’m fucked up over this, Jeff. I’ve never been this drawn to a woman before. She’s in my head.” I felt like an idiot trying to justify any of this to Jefferson.
He resumed eating his meal, unperturbed. His ability to be so cold undoubtedly suited him in court, where I needed mine to write well. We’d always dealt with things differently, so I wasn’t sure why I thought he’d be able to offer any advice.
“It sounds to me like you are your main problem, Jax, not this young woman. Just keep your distance. Find another woman to distract you and move on.”
I shook my head, disgusted. “I wish it were that easy. I still want to help her. She’s brilliant and deserves to be published.”
“I’ve told you what I think. If you choose to ignore what I say, then so be it. I’ll need her name and address before I can draw up the non-disclosure. I’ll send it over on Monday. Get her to sign it, Jax. Whether you keep fucking her or not, you’ll be protected,” Jeff said seriously.
“I’m not some twenty-year-old walking around with my dick in my hand, asshole,” I spat. Internally, I was kicking myself that I’d let her leave my office thinking I was finished with her.
Forgive me. Her words reverberated through my soul and made my heart leap inside my chest. So much, that for the first time in my life, I was paralyzed while my head, heart and libido duked it out. Now, in retrospect, I wished I’d acted differently. The intense connection I felt to Addison wouldn’t just go away but I told myself I could turn the situation more professional. I truly wanted to see her published: to see her books on the shelves next to mine… almost as much as I wanted to possess her. Could I separate the two long enough to mentor her? If I were honest with myself, I didn’t know for sure, but for her sake, I had to try.
It wasn’t just her body I wanted… I craved something more profound than just sex for the first time in my life, and the admission, even if only to myself, rocked me to the core.
12
The page loomed blank in front of me the same way it had all week. The assignment was due on Monday and I didn’t have a word of it written.
How could I put my experience with my sexy professor down on paper? How could I do it justice? Just thinking about it made fire lick through my veins. How could I bare my soul to him? How could I let him know what utter power he had over me after just one night together? Surely, this was some sick, sadistic torture, designed to make me regret my actions even more than I already did. And the torture was not just for me, but for him, as well. Was he going to subject himself to two hundred different versions of the scene? Then again, maybe that would help lessen the magnificence of the real thing.
I pushed the laptop back on the desk and dropped my head into my folded arms.
“Uhhhh!” I moaned. A myriad of emotions flooded through me, but the most prevalent was regret. “Damn him. Damn me!”
I was half tempted to write -—“I can’t write this. Give me an F.”— five hundred times and turn it in. It would serve him right and he’d probably just laugh; right before he gave me the F I’d asked for. I wanted to scream but couldn’t because I was in the library commons. “Fuck this,” I muttered, slamming my laptop shut and putting it away.
Standing outside the library, I debated about taking a cab back to our apartment, but cab fare in New York was horrendous but was the lesser of two evils. Giving in, I put my hand in the air. “Taxi!” I called.
I’d decided to walk to campus earlier this morning. I couldn’t sleep anyway, plus, I’d hoped the walk would help me figure out how to put it into words. I hoped it would give me clarity, but those moments thinking about Jax, plodding along through the streets of New York on this late fall morning only served to hammer my predicament into my head. I was monumentally screwed, plus it hurt. I was humiliated after I’d begged forgiveness and he said nothing. I’d been in his class three times since “the night” as I’d come to think of it, and every time chose a seat in the back of the auditorium so he couldn’t make direct eye contact with me. Maybe it was cowardly, but I wasn’t a masochist. I just couldn’t be that close to him without running the risk of falling apart. It was hard enough listening to his voice.
I was such a coward. Nothing at all like the heroine in my book. She was brave, able to voice what she wanted. She was the one who turned Jax on. Maybe it wasn’t even me he wanted, I lamented miserably.
I’d given the cab driver the address and sat in somewhat of a daze as we made the trek through Manhattan. It was 10 PM on Friday night and Michelle was probably out with friends and her boyfriend, Mark. My head fell back on the seat. I was so tired of fighting the impulse to give in to what I wanted, and the risk to my heart be damned.
“Here we are, Miss.” The cab driver said in his thick foreign accent.
“Oh.” I sat up; startled out of my thoughts. I dug around in the front zipper pocket of my backpack for my debit card. “Sorry,” I said as I swiped it in the doohickey attached to the screen that separated the front and back seats, adding a minimum tip. It sucked being a college student in New York City. I mean the experience was awesome, but it was so damn expensive, every penny counted.
When I stepped out of the car, I realized I was standing in front of Jax’s apartment building. My stomach flipped inside my body and my face began to burn.
What the hell was I doing here?
Apparently, I’d given his address to the driver instead of mine. The building concierge opened one of the double glass doors at the entrance. “Good evening, young lady,” he said pleasantly. He was a jolly grey-haired gentleman with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. He reminded me of Santa Clause sans beard, mustache and red suit. He stood, waiting for me to walk through.