Her Dirty Professor Series (21+)

“Okay, I didn’t think he could get any more adorable, but now…” Lara waves a hand.

I snort. “I’d love to go, Caleb.” I flash Lara one last look. “But only if you’re sure.”

“Get out of here before I shove you out the door,” she scolds, reaching over to accept the apron I’m untying from my neck.

“Fine, I can take a hint,” I call over my shoulder. I’m nervous about leaving the shop in Lara and the assistants’ hands. But I can’t deny it-those nerves flood away in an instant when Caleb reaches down and catches my hand in his, our fingers entwining.

We take his car, drive to his sister’s house on the outskirts of town. When we climb out of the car and he catches my hand again-unafraid to hold it in front of his family, apparently-I can’t help thinking yet again that this has to be something special. Unique.

There’s no way he’d bring me to this party if ours was a purely business relationship. Right?

Caleb’s sister, Beth, turns out to be his stepsister, I learn as he introduces me to the bubbly blond with a strong American accent.

“So glad you could both make it,” she gushes as she tries to corral a small herd of 6-year-old girls, currently stampeding through the house on their way from one birthday activity to the next. “Oh, and the cake!” Her eyes light up. “I’m in love with your bakery, Carmine. Caleb was telling me you gave him a special class and everything, I about died of jealousy.”

My cheeks flush bright red, thinking about exactly how special that class was. Pretty sure his sister wouldn’t have wanted the version of baking class that he got. “No trouble at all,” I hear myself saying as Beth leads us through the winding hallways of her house toward the kitchen.

“Still, it’s so sweet…”

I lose track of the conversation when we reach the kitchen, which is packed with people. I lose my grip on Caleb too, and find myself fumbling through the chaos, trying to find some people I recognize.

More than a few seem to recognize me, though, and after I spot Caleb trapped in a conversation with a few older guys out back by the grill, I let some neighbors pull me into a conversation about the bakery business. We chat for a few minutes, mostly them asking questions about how hard it was to get started and how much they’ve heard from their friends that they need to try our cakes.

Then the conversation drifts toward mutual friends, play dates for the kids, and other topics I can’t follow, and I politely excuse myself.

I’m trying to make my way back across the kitchen when I catch a snippet of a conversation that freezes me in my tracks.

“Where do you think he knows her from, anyway?”

“Who knows? Probably his company, if you can call it that.”

“Can you believe Beth is okay with him doing that? I hear his own mother disowned him, you know, when it came out.”

“So do you think she’s a client or…?”

“Surely not. Even a whore must have the dignity not to bring his work to a six-year-old’s birthday party,” one of the neighbors says. “It’s just not appropriate.” She doesn’t even bother to lower her voice on the word whore.

I spin around, face bright red, fists clenched with fury. “You’d think using that sort of language would be the thing that’s not appropriate,” I say, scowling.

The woman flushes. Clearly she thought I was out of earshot. Her friends all blush too, avoiding my eye.

“Who asked what any of you think, anyway?” I ask, my voice rising a little. I can’t help it. I’m too angry. “It’s none of your business how Caleb decides to earn his living.”

“As long as you don’t mind that your man earns his money giving it up for other people, you’re right, what business is it of ours?” One of the girls laughs. The others join in.

“Personally I just can’t imagine being all right with that,” the first woman adds, shaking her head at me, as though she pities me. “Going out with a man who would toss you aside the second a woman with a bigger purse came along.”

I push past them. Screw these women. Screw their judgmental attitudes and their know-it-all smirks.

And screw the way their words sink into the pit of my stomach. Make me confront what I’ve been hiding from all along. Because deep down, I know they’re right.

This isn’t anything more than a business relationship. And I’m already in way over my head.

I elbow my way out the back of the house and head for the path to the front. I’ll catch a cab out front. I can’t stick around here any longer. Can’t be paraded around as if I’m Caleb’s friend, or girlfriend, or something, anything besides what I actually am. Nothing more than a client.

I’m halfway out the gate, up the gravel driveway toward the street, when a warm hand closes around my bicep.

“Carmine.”

I freeze in the driveway, chest heaving, eyes stinging. I don’t want to turn around. To see the expression on his face when he confirms it. “I have to go, Caleb,” I say.

“I’m sorry. Those women, Beth’s neighbors, they can be real judgmental assholes at times. But they don’t know me, they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Judgmental attitude aside,” I respond slowly, “they’re not wrong, are they?” I finally turn around, and find him frowning at me, hurt in those stormy gray eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not upset at you, Caleb.” I shake my head, chest tight. “Just at myself. This was… stupid. I should have known; this is just business. I let myself get in too deep, let myself believe it was something it isn’t.”

“Stop right there.” He closes the gap between us, gripping my other arm now, his hands tight around my shoulders. “Carmine… This is not just business.”

I swallow hard. Keep my eyes locked on his.

He bites his lip and shakes his head once, hard. “I didn’t want to say anything, not yet. I didn’t want to freak you out. But… I haven’t seen anyone else. Not since I first saw you.” His frown twists a little. “Not since some time before that either, actually.”

My brows draw in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He jerks his head back over his shoulder, gesturing at the party. “A couple months ago, one of Beth’s neighbors found the site I work for. She called my mother, told my entire family back in London.”

My jaw drops. “I’m sorry, that’s…”

“It was shitty, but you know what, it turned out fine. I didn’t want to hurt my parents any more, so I swore I’d change jobs. Find another way to put myself through school. I nearly had enough money saved up for my full degree anyway. I tried to pull my info from the site, but they have a contract, annual policy.” He sighs and rolls his eyes. “They made me leave up my details until the year is out. But it was up to me to decide whether I wanted to accept any job offers I got in the meantime. I didn’t. Not since this whole thing blew up. I’ve ignored every booking request I’ve gotten… Until yours.”

“Why mine?” My voice comes out a whisper. I’m too scared to raise it. Too scared this moment will shatter, turn out to be a dream.

Caleb leans closer, his mouth inches from mine. “I had to see you. I had to know if you were as bold and sexy as you sounded in that message.” He shakes his head, eyes still fixed on mine. “I can’t explain it, it’s… I’ve never met a woman so confident about what she wants, so open and forthright about what she enjoys.” He smirks a little. “And, it didn’t hurt that you’re every inch as kinky as I am.”

I laugh, eyes still locked.

“I was too weak to resist you, Carmine. I had to see you. Find out if you were as filthy hot in person.” He tilts his head forward until his forehead comes to rest against mine. “And damn, you did not disappoint. You’re everything I imagined and more.” He cups my cheek, and I tilt my face toward his. His lips find mine, a slow, searing kiss that I feel all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes.

When we break apart, it’s hard to catch my breath.

“That’s the real reason I never charged you,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to be escort and client. I want to be more. I really, really like you, Carmine, and…” His eyes search mine for a long moment. “I want you. All of you.”Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

This time, when his lips crash into mine again, I let myself fall into the kiss. I twine my hand through his hair, part my lips, trace his tongue with mine.

We kiss until we hear Beth in the backyard, shouting for the kids to come cut the cake. Then we break apart, breathless, and clasp hands again, grinning.

“We can sneak out if you want,” he says.

But I shake my head. I know what this means to him. “Fuck those bitchy neighbors,” I reply, lifting my head high. “Let’s go show them what a real happy couple looks like.”

He laughs, and I elbow his side gently.

“Besides,” I point out, “we need to taste how our masterpiece of a cake turned out.”

…..

After the birthday party, Caleb drives me back to my place. On the way, I cave and check my phone, asking Lara about the bakery. But she sends back a happy, smiling selfie with Jen and Carl-they finished all the orders on time. No stress necessary.