Need Me (Broke and Beautiful #2)(17)

“You want me to stop?” He brushed their lips together. “What about your extra credit?”

Her body went rigid beneath him. Just like that moment in the closet when their eyes had met for the first time, everything went still around him. This time, though, instead of panic and regret in her eyes, he saw fury. It grabbed him in a choke hold and strangled the breath from his lungs. Dread crept in . . . then it poured in, sealing all the cracks inside him. Something was wrong. This wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. Especially a moment later, when she reached between them with frantic hands and tugged her skirt back into place before shoving him off her.

He went immediately, the shame in her expression impaling him through his midsection. Every word he formulated in his head was wrong. He didn’t even fully understand what he’d done until she reached into her still-open backpack and drew out a small, stapled stack of papers.

“I did the extra-credit assignment. On Lolita.”

Oh, Jesus. This wasn’t happening. He’d forgotten all about the assignment. What had he just done? He’d lost his mind. With shaking hands he wanted to cover with his own, she zipped up her backpack and held it in front of her chest. Like a shield. It made him want to drop back to his knees and beg her not to need a shield from him, but the horror and mortification wouldn’t allow him to move.

Honey moved around him in an exaggerated half circle and trudged down the lecture hall stairs, stopping before she reached the last one. She turned and pierced him with a look. “I have an A in this class. I have an A in every class because I work hard. I don’t need to sleep with my teachers for good grades.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t know what I saw in you, but I’m starting to wonder if I was wrong.”

She turned and headed for the door. Ben went down the stairs after her, not knowing what he’d do when he got to her, but positive he couldn’t just let her walk away. When he reached her, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she slapped it away.

“Honey—”

That’s when Peter appeared in the doorway.





Chapter 6



THE THIGH BONE’S connected to the . . . hip bone.

Honey hummed the familiar tune as she studied her human anatomy text book, one leg jiggling beneath the library table. A cleared throat brought her head up in time to receive an irritated look from a guy wearing a faux turtleneck one table over.

Okay. Apparently not everyone enjoyed the classics.

She flipped the book closed and massaged her eyes. What time was it? Without English class to distract her today, she’d spent Tuesday afternoon studying but had continually found her eye drawn toward the literature section. Was it ridiculous that she wanted to pull Lolita from the shelf and see if Ben had checked it out recently? She knew from watching him unload his bag before class that he carried library books.

It was probably best if she headed home for the day before she acted on her wayward impulses. Her hormones had obviously overridden her good sense, because she should be indignant. She should curse the day she walked into Professor Ben Dawson’s classroom. Lord, when she thought about the way he’d accused her of something so sordid, she started conjuring up parting shots she wished she’d delivered. Ones that included the phrase in your dreams and involved throwing a velvet cape over her shoulder as she swept from the classroom.

So, yeah. The situation with Ben had definitely taken an unfavorable turn, but he’d made the mistake of throwing down a gauntlet. Now that she’d had some time to think about what had happened in the classroom yesterday afternoon—oh, and she’d thought about it—it became more and more obvious he’d been calling her bluff. Or what he’d thought was a bluff. While she might have made up her mind to leave seduction to the big girls, she hadn’t expected Ben to come on to her. The way he’d touched her . . . stared at the spot between her legs as if he were famished after three days in the desert . . . she couldn’t shake how that made her feel. Hot, limber. Wanted.

So while she might have gone into class that day with the resolve to let this fascination with Ben go, he’d quite handily solidified it. He’d played a game with her, and to her way of thinking, that meant she could now seduce with impunity. Or tempt, as the case may be.

A yawn overtook her as she shoved her textbook into her backpack. Her grand seduction plans would have to be put on hiatus until tomorrow afternoon. Besides, in a hoodie, leggings, and her ancient, torn-up Converse, she wasn’t even fit to tempt a blind man.

Honey threw her backpack over her shoulder and turned, her progress grinding to a halt when she saw Ben. Tweed jacket thrown over one arm, glasses outlining eyes that looked as weary as she felt, he nonetheless looked mouthwatering. How did he get his hair to look messy and controlled at the same time? Her first instinct was to drop back into her chair, hiding inside her hoodie until he disappeared into the literature section, but she knew she’d be disgusted with herself later if she ducked him.

“I was here first, dammit,” Honey muttered, earning her a “shhh” from the table to her left. “Seriously?” she mouthed at Faux-Turtleneck. When she returned her attention to Ben, he’d just turned into a stack. Nineteenth-century literature. Why did his predictability turn her on? This was clearly a slow descent into madness, but she couldn’t help wanting to take the ride. And hey, if she showed him yesterday hadn’t hurt her, pride would be restored and equal footing regained. Right? Right. Honey turned in a quick circle meant to psyche herself up and headed in the direction Ben had gone, entering the aisle adjacent to his.