The Hookup Equation (Loveless Brothers 4) - Page 91

“Miss Lopez, come in,” I say, taking a stack of papers and straightening them against my desk. “Did you have a question about the final?”

She enters, bag slung over one shoulder, her winter coat open, my scarf around her neck. She’s been wearing it lately. I like that she wears it.

“No questions,” she says, then glances out the door and raises one eyebrow at me. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

I nod, and she closes the door. I stand and twist the vertical blinds shut over the window behind my desk, because even though campus is pretty empty no one needs to see us together in my office, after hours, when the semester’s finished.

“Me too,” I say, walking around the desk and leaning against the other side.

Thalia puts her bag on one chair and shrugs her coat off. Underneath it she’s wearing an above-the-knee skirt over tights, and despite everything, the slight glimpse of her thighs pings something in my reptilian brain.

Maybe it’s my amygdala. My hippopotamus? Thalia knows, I don’t.

“I’m officially done with my semester several hours early,” she says, grinning, her hands on her hips. “I saw you were still here and figured I’d come say hi before I meet Margaret and Victoria for beers at the Rail.”

“Congrats,” I say, also grinning. “And no using the men’s bathroom while you’re there.”

“Why?” she asks, laughing. “You’re afraid that I’ll meet another handsome, charming math professor?”

“That could be your move,” I tease. “Lock yourself into a bathroom, play the damsel in distress, next thing you know some poor hapless sucker is so besotted with you that he takes to the botanic garden that very night.”

Thalia glances around quickly, like she’s double-checking that we haven’t overlooked a brand-new window in my office, then steps forward and puts her feet between mine, her arms resting on my chest.

“Okay, one, I’m not a damsel,” she says. “Two, you’re not exactly a poor hapless sucker —"

I grab her ass and give it a quick squeeze. Thalia yelps, then giggles.

“Shh,” I admonish. “People are going to think I’m hurting you. With math.”

“Sometimes math hurts,” she says.

“You mean hurts so good.”

“Do I?”

“You do,” I say, grinning at her. “When dispatched correctly, mathematics can be very erotic.”

“And I assume that you know how to dispatch math erotically?”

“Of course.”

“Go on.”

I give her ass another good squeeze, pressing her a little harder against me, and she laughs again. We’re both in goofy moods, feeling a little punch-drunk from the semester, and she wriggles slightly against me.

“You can’t get out of a discussion by grabbing my ass,” she says.

“I bet I can,” I say, and do it again.

“It’s not working.”

I’ve still got her ass firmly in both hands, and I give it a little jiggle.

“Yes, it is,” I counter. “We’re not discussing erotic math any more, and I’ve got my hands full of the best ass on campus.”

I’m also starting to get hard. I should never have grabbed her ass. I knew what would happen, and we’re in my office, on campus, not to mention she’s about to go get drinks with her friends.

“Well, the best ass just came by to say hi, give you a quick kiss, and ask what you’re doing later tonight,” she teases, looking up at me.

I release her ass and cup it gently, instead. It’s a nice ass. I like touching it.

“You, I presume,” I say. “When you show up at my door drunkenly demanding a good time.”

“Is that a request?” she says, and now she’s got her hands on the desk on either side of me and she cocks her hips and she grinds against me a little as she does, and it doesn’t help my erection situation.

“That you drunkenly demand a good time? You don’t have to be drunk,” I tease back. “I’m happy to give you a good time whenever you demand one.”

“I’d noticed,” she says, a half-smirk on her upturned face.

“Sorry,” I say, grinning. “Should I be saving that for your demands later tonight?”

“Thank you,” she says, sweetly, and tilts her face up to mine for a kiss.

I kiss her quickly, not quite chastely but close enough, and a thrill goes through me. I shouldn’t be kissing this girl at all and I definitely shouldn’t be kissing her here, in my office, where a colleague could theoretically knock on my door at any moment.

Thalia pulls away for a second, still leaning against me, perched on her toes, my hands still cupping her ass, and her eyes search mine like she’s thinking of something.

Then she kisses me again, and this time I lean into it. I know I shouldn’t but I open my mouth, dart my tongue along her lower lip, feel her open to me as she pushes against me a little harder, her ass still in my hands.

By the time we part I’m hard as a rock, and we both know it. Thalia’s slightly flushed, her eyelids slightly heavy, and I know for a fact that she’s wet as all hell right now.

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