Quarantined With My Professor Read online

  It was almost, almost, on her lips to say that they shouldn’t do this.

  But then his lips were on her lips, and there was no way she was letting him stop kissing her. Maybe ever.

  It was like molten fluid had flooded her veins. She’d been with people before, but she couldn’t remember having ever felt like this from just a kiss. Her mind was completely focused on Adrian, on the way his hands moved down her body and gripped her hips, on the way his stubble tickled her cheeks as they kissed.

  On the way his abs were rock hard as her fingers slid beneath his shirt. She wrapped her legs around his hips and felt his cock, pushing hard against her flimsy shorts. There was no going back from this. There was no point in even tainting the moment by suggesting they were going to stop.

  He pulled back for a moment, looking at her as if to confirm that she wasn’t going to vocalize what a stupid decision this was either.

  Whatever he saw in her face–probably flushed and hazy with lust–convinced him to pull her shirt over her head and dip his head to take a nipple into her mouth. She hadn’t been wearing a bra–she never did with her pajamas if she could get away with it–and she hadn’t considered until now that he’d probably been able to tell all day. She hadn’t been intentionally attempting to turn him on, but she definitely didn’t mind the consequences of it either.

  Especially not when he sucked on her nipple and made her moan in delight. She wanted to repay the favor, to kiss her way down his body until she found the hard length currently pressed against her thigh–but she was paralyzed with pleasure. When he pulled down her shorts and slipped two fingers inside her, it was almost too much. Her back arched and her fingers laced through his hair, the only thing she could reach, anchoring his mouth against her chest.

  His thumb found her clit, and that was when she really fell apart. Gasping and crying out his name. She’d never come so quickly or powerfully in her life, and she spent a good thirty seconds afterward attempting to catch her breath, staring at the ceiling in a daze.

  The moment he moved a little away from her she was on him, though, pulling back into a searing kiss, and pushing his pajama bottoms down with her feet. When he pushed into her, it didn’t come with the same testing look. There was nothing but desire in his gaze when he looked at her, and she was torn between incredibly satisfied, and knowing she was never going to get enough of this feeling, of him.

  He eased himself inside her slowly, his wide girth taking some adjustment after her celibacy of six months. It didn’t hurt, though. It felt incredible. He felt incredible.

  And then he started thrusting, drawing cries of pleasure from her mouth. She cursed because nothing was ever going to be extreme enough to explain just how euphoric she was feeling right now. Was this what sex was supposed to be like? It never had been before this.

  Before Adrian. Her professor.

  She dug her nails into his back, drawing him even closer, unwilling to let that fact spoil any part of this. Regret could come later, when there wasn’t this pleasure pounding through her whole body.

  And he clearly felt the same. His hands were everywhere, like he couldn’t bear not to be touching every part of her. She felt every gasp and curse where his lips hovered against her throat. His thrusts seemed more urgent every time. She tightened her legs around his waist as she felt climax rushing up on her again.

  She wanted to watch him come over the edge with her, but the surge of her orgasm forced her eyes shut as every nerve tingled.

  Both breathing heavily, with slack muscles, they lay on the Twister mat and attempted to recover without breaking the moment.

  This was where the awkwardness was bound to come, and she desperately didn’t want it. It wasn’t just that no one ever wanted to feel awkward. It was that this was the first real piece of intimacy she’d had with someone since Duane, and she’d thought in her mind she didn’t want any intimacy. She’d been avoiding even thinking about seeing anyone else, even for one night.

  But this had been perfect. Adrian had made her feel incredible. She didn’t want to put any dampener on that.

  When he opened his mouth, she shut her eyes. She was expecting, “This was a mistake,” or “I feel so fucking awful,” or just a devastated, “Fuck.”

  Instead, she got, “I think we’re going to have to disinfect this before packing it away again,” And they were the most perfect words she’d ever heard in her life.

  Chapter Eight

  Adrian

  Adrian felt shaky. He was trying really hard not to let it show.

  It wasn’t just shakiness from the best orgasm he could remember ever having, either.

  At least physically. Who it was with was causing his shakiness. Shaking the foundations of his whole life. If anyone ever found out, he’d be screwed. His life as he knew it would be over, and he had no idea what he’d do if he lost his job. He was already financially on the edge.

  He pushed himself to his knees, righting his clothing. Laurie’s expressions weren’t subtle, and she looked disappointed at the lack of contact as they dressed themselves. She disappeared to use the bathroom and he took a few moments to compose himself.

  Sure, he’d just taken a stupid risk. A ridiculously stupid risk. But as far as risks went, it was a pretty sure bet that no one ever would find out. There was no way they could.

  What seemed like a bigger risk right now, was isolating Laurie when all he wanted to do was hold her close.

  When she returned from the bathroom, he walked over and took her by surprise by slipping his hands behind her back and knees and hoisting her easily to his chest, then carrying her to the bedroom. “I’m finally going to find out how comfy this bed is,” he said.

  He could feel her grin as she rested her head on his chest.

  In the bed they put on some soft music, and she curled into his side. She lifted his shirt so she could draw patterns on his torso with her fingertips. The movement was so gentle it made goosebumps break out on his arms. It almost tickled.

  “So, how much regret have you got so far?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “I’m resisting it.”

  “It was just once. No one knows.”

  “Just don’t start feeling blackmail-y and we’ll be fine,” he agreed.

  She laughed. “Thankfully I’m not a psychopath, so we’re all good.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, kissing his chest. “Definitely perfect.”

  He ran his fingers through her hair. They didn’t need to speak. Just listening to the gentle music and feeling their skin on each other’s was the most peaceful thing he’d experienced in years.

  As he concentrated on just getting to know her body through soft caresses not even designed to turn her on, just to be close and intimate, he realized he wasn’t even having to force himself not to feel regret. He didn’t regret it, and it was as simple as that.

  “I feel so comfortable with you,” she said, snuggling further into his side.

  “I feel comfortable with you too. Comfortable and happy. Which is a novelty.”

  She laughed. “Tell me about it.”

  There were a few beats of silence until she said without looking at him, “I had a nasty break-up. Really nasty. A lot of things were said to me that made me do a lot of thinking, and come to some not great conclusions. About myself, and everything, really.”

  “I can’t imagine it’s possible to come to a bad conclusion about you.”

  When she chuckled, he thought it sounded a little bit teary. “I was with my ex for nearly six years. Since I was sixteen. He was my high school sweetheart, you know? We did everything together. I stayed in San Francisco for college because that’s what his heart was set on. I made so many decisions based on him because we were in love and it was as simple as that.

  “About six months ago I found out he’d been cheating on me. Not just with his most recent fling, either. A few times before, as well. And never just a night with another woman, always a proper a
ffair. Even when we were seventeen he’d been sleeping with someone else.” She rolled her eyes, but still didn’t look at him. “That was all bad enough, but when I broke up with him because of it he didn’t take it well. I only found out about the most recent affair at first, but he threw the others in my face straight away. Just confirming I’d definitely made the right decision, I suppose.”

  His heart thudded with a protective anger and his arms tightened around her. It was a good job they were on the other side of the world from this asshole.

  “It wasn’t just the cheating, though. He really wanted to hurt me, and it worked. He basically told me that the only reason he’d been with me is because of my money, and that I deserved to be hurt because I’d always been a selfish bitch. He said I had to be convinced to take him on a gap year when I should have been offering in the first place because I could afford it, but instead I made him beg. It’s not how it happened, really. It just wasn’t something I’d even considered, but it did all make me think. I’m completing my degree debt free, and I can walk straight into a job at my parents’ firm even if my degree doesn’t work out. I haven’t done anything to deserve that. I’m not sure I’ve ever done anything in my life to deserve anything good. Duane definitely didn’t seem to think so, anyway, and he’s the person that’s always known me best.”

  “He sounds like a fucking idiot,” Adrian said bluntly. He cupped her cheek with his hand, tilting her face toward him. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she was forcing back proper sobs. The broken expression on her face made him want to cry, too. “You can’t help whether you’re born into money or not. Your parents worked hard because they wanted to be able to put you through college debt free. You’re lucky, but it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person, or that you don’t deserve to be happy, because your parents happen to have money. Your ex got caught being an asshole, and then took it out on you when you didn’t let him walk all over you. You’ve not done a single thing wrong except let him get away with making you feel bad when you’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “I appreciate you trying to make me feel better,” she said, pressing another kiss to his chest.

  “I’m not just saying empty words. I mean them.”

  “You barely know me, really. He was with me for six years.”

  “Six years he spent being an asshole.”

  He was glad when she laughed. “Well, I suppose there’s that.”

  “And I’m a financially irresponsible idiot who’s in prime position to feel bitter toward people with money, and I still think you’re great.” He had promised that he’d tell her his, if she told him hers. And she’d definitely just bared her soul.

  She looked up again, and he wanted to say that was cheating, that she hadn’t looked at him when she’d been laying her painful story out.

  “I was meant to be getting married. We’d bought a house together. The house is just in my name, because her credit rating was terrible and she couldn’t get a mortgage. It was easily affordable when it was both of us paying it. Then she left me and I can’t really afford it on my own. And the housing market slumped, so I’m in negative equity. I’m barely scraping by paycheck to paycheck.” He knew he wasn’t hiding his bitterness at all. Every single word he said oozed spite at his situation, and at himself for getting into it.

  “That’s not being financially irresponsible, that’s being unlucky. You were going to spend the rest of your life with this woman, of course you never considered ending up in this position. And you could have hardly predicted a housing crash.”

  He made a noise of acknowledgement.

  “What happened that she left?”

  “I developed the condition in my hands. We’d worked in the same orchestra together. One that was traveling a lot. We didn’t even need the house, not really. She didn’t want to be with me when I couldn’t travel with her, and she left.”

  This time when she pressed a kiss to his torso, he shut his eyes and breathed deeply, accepting the affection gratefully. He’d never been able to talk to anyone about it. He’d never admitted the financial mess he’d gotten himself into. It was embarrassing, that he’d allowed it to get to this point, and even more embarrassing that he had no way of changing it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said eventually. “That that happened to you. You didn’t deserve it either. Thank you for telling me.”

  He pushed her away a little and she made a hurt noise. But he was only laying further down in bed so that his head came down on the pillow beside her, so that he could see her properly. He immediately pulled her back into his side and ran his hand down her face.

  He felt oddly compelled to tell her he loved her. He knew he didn’t, knew he couldn’t. It was a whirlwind romance born out of extraordinary circumstances that probably wouldn’t last beyond the day. Right then and there he just felt so incredibly close and content with her that it really felt like he had fallen head over heels, straight in love with her, though.

  “I love this,” he said instead, as a cop out. “Being here with you right now. It’s perfect. I wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him. It started innocent, barely a peck, and within minutes was open-mouthed and feverish. Their limbs tangled, and his cock ached to be inside her again.

  She pulled back for just a moment to say, “I love this, too,” and he told himself she’d substituted the word this for you in her mind as well.

  Chapter Nine

  Laurie

  For a moment, when Laurie woke up with hot, comfortable arms around her, she panicked that she was somehow back with Duane.

  It took her a moment to realize her current scenario was infinitely more improbable, and infinitely superior.

  Adrian was curled around her, his lips resting against her bare shoulder. She was cozy and warm and she had no intention to move anywhere. With the light of the new day peeking around the curtains, though, some of the doubts she should have been feeling yesterday started to creep in, too.

  After all, what they were doing was ridiculous. This wasn’t Laurie and Adrian, this was Laurie and Professor Hughes. This wasn’t some silly fling induced by a pandemic that would end and they’d never see each other again. This could have real consequences if it was discovered.

  Not that she could think of a single way it would be discovered…

  And that was the deciding factor, she thought, in why they’d fallen asleep together instead of him bringing it all straight to an end. He was the one who would suffer the real consequences, not her. He was the one with his career on the line.

  She fully expected him to wake up this morning with that fact in much sharper focus.

  Instead, she got a flurry of kisses on the back of her shoulder and neck which made her shiver.

  “Good morning,” she whispered.

  “Good morning.” His hot breath fanned against her bare skin.

  “Maybe we should be taking extra precautions and quarantining ourselves to the bed.” She was testing the waters, seeing whether he’d joke with her, or pull away.

  “I’ve definitely got all I need to eat right here,” he responded, giving her shoulder the softest of bites now.

  She giggled. The crushing doubts hadn’t swallowed his affection yet, then.

  She turned in his arms and wrapped hers around his neck. “We’ve solved the panic buying crisis.”

  He kissed her deeply. One day later, and it was still sending her heart into overdrive.

  She wondered what it would feel like after fourteen days.

  She found herself wondering what it would feel like after fourteen weeks, or months, or years, too, and attempted to shake herself out of it.

  Accepting they could maybe push their luck and spend the rest of their quarantine in each other’s arms was one thing. There was no way they were going to be able to continue anything afterward. It was an isolated whirlwind that wouldn’t stray beyond Austria. Letting herself daydream about anything else was just setting herself up for
more heartache than she was already going to feel.

  “I thought you were going to be having a crisis this morning,”‌ she admitted carefully, running her hand up his arm until it was buried in his hair.

  “So did I.”‌ He kissed her forehead. “But the whole world is going insane. I don’t think there’s much point in having a crisis, especially not when you’re doing an excellent‌ job of distracting me from it.”‌

  They distracted themselves for the next hour, learning each other’s bodies in a way that meant she was never going to forget it. Every contour of his hardened body she traced with her fingers, and then with her mouth. And she would never forget the look on his face as she did, either. Pure bliss. There wasn’t even a hint of negativity on it.

  And there wasn’t one on hers either. Or in her mind.

  It was the first time that had been the case in six months. And, she realized, for a lot longer than that. Her and Duane’s relationship hadn’t been perfect. They’d bickered. Maybe she’d always had doubts.

  Stretching languidly, she sat up in bed. “Breakfast time,”‌ she decided, then looked down at him. “Second breakfast.”‌

  He grinned and her heart skipped a beat.

  After eating a croissant, she was overcome by an urge that hadn’t gripped her for months. She wandered over to where her cello case was leaning against the wall and pulled her instrument from it, then sat on the couch and started to play.

  It was the first time she had played for anything other than the necessity of learning things for her course, and the first time it had put a real smile on her face. She avoided looking at Adrian, though she could feel his eyes on her.

  He’d seen her play before, of course. He was her professor, and he was a strings player himself, but this was entirely different.

  This was her playing for him, playing with a passion she hadn’t felt even before she had broken up with Duane. This was back to how she had felt when she’d first started playing, when she’d first started being competent. When she’d been excited by the fact she could really make these sounds, and hadn’t been worn down by her parents hints that it wasn’t a career, or Duane’s comments that she was so privileged she could do a classical music major without it affecting her career prospects.