Chapter Eleven

There is a kitchen upstairs and a kitchen downstairs, Skye tells me as we make our way to the one upstairs. He seems pretty proud of his home and I smile in encouragement, but really I’m too flustered from our little interaction in the bedroom to really focus on anything he’s saying. If only he had taken me then and there… Mmmm…

“Lena, are you paying attention to me?”

Professor Skye’s stern voice instantly pulls me out of my sexy day dream. “I’m sorry… What?” I ask. I can feel my face warming- damn my natural reflex to blush at every little thing!

Professor Skye frowns at me. “One hell of an awakening indeed…” He mumbles to himself as we enter a large, professional style kitchen.

I shouldn’t be surprised. I know Professor Skye is richer than most- but does he really need a kitchen to compete with Gordon Ramsay’s? Whoa, I mouth, because this is seriously amazing. I’ve always loved cooking (even considered going to culinary school for a bit). I couldn’t definitely get down in here.

“What would you like?” He asks me, padding over to one of the two stainless steel fridges in the room.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “You cook?” Why does this surprise me? Probably because I expected some little servant girl to pop up out of nowhere and do it for us- after all, he’s pretty rich.

“Of course.” He says, throwing a smirk at me over his shoulder and, once again, I flush a bright red.

How is he good at everything? I wonder… and then realize he’s still waiting on me to answer. “Um… Can you do French omelettes?” My stomach makes an embarrassingly loud grumble at the thought.

“Two French omelettes coming up.” He replies, gathering the makings from the fridge.

I couldn’t help but admire the smooth rhythm at which his hand moved as he beat the eggs into oblivion. “Is there anything I can help with?” I asked, feeling awkward just standing around while he did everything.

“Sure. You can shred from cheese for us to sprinkle on top. I believe there’s some mozzarella in the fridge.” He gustered to the opposite fridge of the one he had gotten his ingredients from. I scuff at his idea of “help” but decide to let it slide.

I nodded and we both got straight to work/


The omelettes were delicious- no lie. If I hadn’t watched him make them himself, I honestly would have thought they had been made by a master chef. I finished my entire plate and damn near licked it clean.

“While you were in the shower, I cancelled my appointments today.” Skye said as he carried our plates over to the stainless steel sink.

I swallow a large swig of my coffee and quickly reply, “Oh! You don’t have to do that for me. I don’t want to be burden.” The words leave my lips, but I’m secretly pleased that I’m his main priority. It feels nice to be…wanted. I’ve never felt that before.

“Don’t be silly.” He replies, turning and leaning against the side of the sink. He crosses his legs and then his arms, and smiles at me. God, he looks like such a…professor when he does that. Why is that such a turn on? “We have a lot to do today.” He adds teasingly.

My stomach flutters. “Like what?” I breathe… Surely he doesn’t mean….

“Well, first of all, we have get you a condo. You did tell your roommate you’re moving out, correct?”

Holy smokes. How does he know that? Did I tell him? I don’t remember… “Yes.”

“Good. We’ll get that taken care of this morning. I’ve scheduled a few appointments for you- and I think you’ll greatly apperciate them.” His eyes sparkle with some secret hidden just beneath the surface.


“Yes.” He narrows his icy eyes at me, as if daring me to argue, but why would?

“Okay.” I reply. It seems I’ve surprised him with my response because he opens his mouth to say something and then quickly closes it, dumbfounded. I never would have thought I would use that word to describe Professor Skye.

Skye presses his lips tightly together. It’s as though he can read my thoughts, and he doesn’t look too pleased. “Are you finished?” He asks me as I take my last sip of coffee.

“Yep.” I reply, sanding my hands on my jeans and standing up. “Where to first boss?” I want him to say the bedroom, but, of course, I am disappointed. There are things we have to do today. I know that.

He glides across the kitchen and catches my hand in his. He brushes his fingers against my cheeks, gently flushed from the warmth of the steam from the coffee. “You’re truly beautiful. Do you know that?”

“No.” I admit in a whisper. I don’t know I’m beautiful. No one had ever used such a word to describe me before. Sadie- plently of times…but not me. I feel a surge of butterflies flapping away in my stomach. Does he truly believe that? The look in his eyes say yes…

“Why else do you think I couldn’t keep myself away from you? You’re so much more than you think, Lena.” His hand rises to my hair and his fingers play with the loose locks.

This is getting embarrassing. I gently pull away. I can see that he doesn’t like that, and I suppose I understand why. We do have an argeement. To sooth the water, I try to reach up and touch his face, but he stops my hand right before it makes contact.

“We have to get going if we want to make those appointment.” He says and he smiles at me, but it seems forced. He lowers our hands and twists his fingers with mine.

“Right.” I reply. That was odd. Why won’t he let me touch him?

I frown to myself, musing, as we head down the stairs and to the Impala.



Chapter Ten

I must have been asleep for awhile because when I wake up the sun is shinning brightly through the only window in the room. I’m underneath the red quilt, but a quick inspection lets me know I’m still naked. I flush at the thought of a man seeing my naked body. No- not a man. This man. This charming, sexy, older man… I bite my lower lip at the thought. I can feel my nether regions began to moisten at just the thought of him.

Yeah. I’ve got it that bad.

But where is he? I sit up in bed, allowing the blanket to drop around my hips, and glance around the room. I’m completely alone. Where could he have gone? I wrap the blanket around my shoulders and head to the adjoining bathroom. I shouldn’t be shocked when I see the large waterfall shower, but I can’t help it. On the marble shelf is a basket of brand new soaps, lotions, razors, and hair products from Bath and Body Works waiting patiently for me. I drop the blanket at my feet and help myself.

The water is warm on my skin and helps sooth my sore muscles. Between my legs hurts terribly, as if I had done a hundred and ten squats last night. Is it always like this after sex? I wince when I reach up to scrub my hair. My arms are sore too.

When I’m finished in the shower and wander over to the marble counter and brush my teeth. No way would I want Professor Skye to smell my morning breath. Especially after last night. My cheeks warm at the memories.

I slip into the fluffy, white bathrobe hanging on a hook in the wall beside the door. I don’t know where my clothes are. The thought of me parading around Professor Skye’s mansion in nothing but a robe flusters me- whether in a good or bad way, I’m not sure. As I make my way back into the bedroom, I jump at the sight of Skye sitting on the bed, waiting for me. My cheeks flush at the silly squeak that escapes my lips.

“Good morning.” He says, smirking at me as usual.

“M-morning.” I whisper. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of tight, black boxers that leave little to the imagination. I can see the outline of his manhood in front of him.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Very well.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Is that so?”

“The best I’ve had in awhile.” I admit sheepishly, shifting my weight from one hip to the next. I don’t know where to look. It seems he meets my gaze in every direction. It flusters me… It excites me.

“Come here.” He says after a beat passes. He gestures for me to stand in front of him and I do just that. He leans back on his palms for a moment and looks up and me, his eyes slowly traveling up and down my body. My face flushes in excitement and I can feel my core dampen. He reaches up and unties my robe. The fluffy fabric parts and goosebumps rise on my suddenly exposed flesh. He reaches up my body and cups my breasts in his palms. I can’t help but tilt my head back at the sensation of having a man’s hands on me. God, I’ve been missing so much… “Very good,” he says. “Last night was an exception to our little deal- but the real shit starts today.”

I nod my head. I understand…but a part of me feels sad that the romance part of our relationship is gone.

One hand moves from my breasts, up to the base of my throat. He clutches me there, passionately, but not frighteningly. It doesn’t hurt or even mess with my breathing in anyway. His other hand is still on my breasts and as his fingers graze my nipple, a moan rises in my throat and I don’t bother to stop it. I want to reach up and wrap my hand around his forearm in encouragment, but I keep my arms tightly at my sides, leaving myself completely open and vunerable to him.

“This is a slow process.” He explains, moving his fingers together with my nipple between them. “You’ve never been introduced to this world and I can bet you have no idea what to expect. I’ll teach you everything you need to know… Think of me as… your Professor.” He chuckles at his little joke.

God, I feel so naughty.

“First things first… Safe words. Do you know what those are?”

I nod my head and flush. The only reason I have any idea what those are is due to the research from last night. “Yes.” I gasp.

He pulls hard on my nipple; hard enough to draw sting of pain. I wince, but the feeling is too delicious to complain. “I suppose… We should sit down and discuss this over breakfast. I have a few documents you should look over.”

“Documents?” Like legal stuff? Why?

He gently pushes me back and falls to his knees in front of me. He runs his tongue over the skin of my public area (thank God I shaved yesterday!) and I gasp. His tongue dips near my slit, teasingly so, but he quickly pulls back and straightens up, drawing his hand away from my bossom.

“Get dressed.” He says and that’s when I notice there is an entirely new outfit folded and waiting for me in the middle of the somehow already made bed.

“B-but…” I protest, but quickly catch myself. I press my lips tightly together.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He says, smirking at me. He draws me in close to him by the fabric of the robe. I think he’s going to kiss me, but to my surprise (and growing disappointment) he doesn’t. He just stares down at me with a hidden smile in his eyes. “You’re in for one hell of a rude awakening.”