A Dance for Him (23 page)

“I probably shouldn’t have told him my real name,” I say regretfully, once Dean Miller’s out of earshot and once the waiter’s left.

Sebastian pats my hand reassuringly. “He’s not going to find out who you are just from your first name, Paige. And it’s unlikely he’d suspect that you were a student - he wouldn’t have been so nice otherwise, I’m sure. Caleb doesn’t know you’re in college, does he?”

“No, I can’t imagine he would. I’ve never discussed my personal life with any of the club patrons, and definitely not with him.”

“Well, I think we’ll be fine then. Roger’s always been friendly with me, I was a bit of a star hire for him, and he apparently liked my novel a lot. He was even quite sympathetic when I broke up with my ex-girlfriend last year. Besides, I’ve been such a good boy in general that he’s much more likely to think ‘oh good, he’s finally found himself a new girlfriend’, rather than ‘oh my God I wonder if that beautiful young thing he’s with is a student of his’.”

I smile. “Well, with any luck, I hope that’ll be the case.”

He kisses my hand.

“I’m sure it will be the case. Here, have some crostini and let’s try not to worry too much. You know, about Caleb, I think the trick is not to let on that he’s gotten to you, even if he has. I’m pretty sure from observing him that that’s what he gets off on. So don’t look scared, and even better, don’t
be
scared. I’m here with you, he won’t dare to try anything. My dislike of him has always been heartily returned, but the difference between us is that he’s afraid of me. Because, like all bullies, he’s a coward who won’t attack anyone his own size or bigger.”

“So you’ve seen him around a bit? And he’s just as creepy in general?”

He shrugs.

“The first time I met him he was at a cocktail party at Brandon’s. He had a date with him, she seemed like a nice girl, I have no idea if they’re even still together, although I suspect not. Anyway, he was incredibly crass, loudly commenting on other women’s looks in front of her, not bothering to conceal his interest in them, ‘joking’ about asking her to recruit them for threesomes. It was painful to watch, and it was obvious that it wasn’t even about him being oblivious to her feelings - he wanted to humiliate her, of that I am sure, because the poor girl was cringing by the end of the night and he seemed to rather enjoy it.”

“Oh God, that’s horrible.”

“I did say a few kind words to her, to try and make her feel better, and I think he resented that. But I’ve never been able to respect him since. I know he’s his cousin, and you can’t choose your relatives, but sometimes I find myself wondering why an otherwise decent guy like Brandon would even want to hang out with him. It’s a complete mystery to me. Anyway, that’s why I felt like I had to rescue you that night at the club. It was obvious that he wanted to humiliate you, and that you found him repulsive. I couldn’t possibly just stand by and watch.”

I lean my head on his shoulder.

“I’m glad you did rescue me,” I murmur. “This is not a sentence I thought I would ever utter, because I didn’t exactly grow up fantasizing about being rescued by a man, but … I’m really glad you did.”

He smiles.

“I’m very glad I did too. And I’m really glad you allowed me to rescue you.”

We beam at each other.

“So, tell me,” he continues, “he was a regular pest at the club too, was he?”

“Yes, he made a lot of us really uncomfortable. I mean, it’s not the world’s most emotionally
comfortable
job to begin with, but he just creeped a lot of us out. I didn’t really know at first why he made me so uncomfortable, and I was talking to a more experienced colleague about it” - this being Brandi aka Ashley, of course - “and she said something that gave me a lot of food for thought. ‘You know how there are guys at the club who are just lonely and maybe a bit clingy because they’re lonely, but are otherwise harmless enough?’ she said. ‘Well, he’s not one of them. He’s angry, it’s like he despises women in general on a very, very deep level. Which is why you want to watch out for him.’ Some of the girls didn’t mind him as much because he tipped well, but … it was hard not to get the feeling that you’d have to pay for that tip by accepting his display of power over you, and that he took some kind of vicious pleasure in that.”

“Oh, Paige,” he murmurs sympathetically as the waiter arrives to whisk away the appetizer plates and replace them with our entrées. “I’m glad you talked to your colleague about this. Because I wouldn’t have wanted you to go through that. And she’s got good instincts - I think she’s quite right about him.”

“Anyway,” I continue when the waiter leaves, “he wasn’t unusually focused on me or anything at the beginning. Maybe it was a mistake to have been obvious in my dread of him, because then it became a game for him to try and get my attention, which just freaked me out more, which amused him more. I think he liked scaring me, I swear there was one time, a couple of weeks before you were at the club, when he actually trailed my car when I left …”

“He did what?” Sebastian exclaims, his cheeks flushing with outrage. “He stalked you?”

“It was just that one time,” I hasten to add - he’s looking so angry that I’m worried he might be tempted to go over and punch the creep right in front of Dean Miller. “Look, I’m not even a hundred per cent sure it was him. It’s just that he left at the same time as I did and I saw him hop into a red Corvette, and the car that was following me was also a red Corvette.”

“Fuck, I should box his ears, the bastard!” he snaps, tossing his napkin onto the table and standing up.

Just what I was afraid of …

“Please don’t, Sebastian. I don’t want you getting into any trouble on my account,” I plead, grabbing his hand. “And certainly not with the dean here. Besides, if there were any legal repercussions, that would be terrible. I’d much rather you were around - I’d be all alone otherwise, and I really wouldn’t have anyone to call if I needed protection.”

He pauses for a moment, then sighs and sits down again, though he’s clearly still fuming - his face is still flushed and his nostrils are flared.

“If I don’t,” he says, “will you promise that if something like that happens again, if he ever tries to follow you around, you’ll call me immediately and let me know? Because this is what you should know about him - he may not have any compunction when it comes to intimidating women, but he’s terrified of men, at least the ones who aren’t frightened of him. That’s all he knows, you see:
fear
. He needs to understand that you are under my protection, and that if he upsets you, he’ll have me to answer to. I know it might sound primitive, but I actually do believe that’s the level he functions on. So, do I have your promise?”

“Yes, Sebastian.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“It’s really good, the filet mignon,” I venture timidly, after I’ve taken a bite of it.

It’s absolutely true - the truffled mushroom ragoût it comes with is beautiful, not like anything I’ve ever tried - but mostly I’m just trying to distract him from his agitation. I know he’s not cross with me, that he’s angry on my behalf, which is not the same thing at all, but I guess the whole thing just makes me nervous.

Fortunately, my remark seems to have the desired effect - he looks at me, surprised at first, as though jolted from his thoughts, before his face softens.

“I’m glad you like it, Paige,” he says, smiling at me and patting my hand. “They have a great menu here. And, you know what, why should we let that bastard spoil this evening for us? It’s our first real date, after all, and I must say I’m glad to be out with you.”

“Oh, it’s lovely being out with you,” I murmur, smiling back at him - he looks so sweet when he’s happy. I’m still mildly worried about the dean’s presence, but at this point there’s nothing we can do, and Sebastian’s right, why would we let anything spoil our first date?

I mean, I can barely believe that I’m on a date with him as it is! A date with Sebastian Morland.

A month ago he was just my gorgeous professor, a beautiful fantasy, and now he’s here beside me, beaming at me as he works on his steak au poivre.

I’ve even gotten used to thinking of him as
Sebastian
rather than as
Dr. Morland
…

“It’s nice to be pampered a bit, isn’t it, Paige? About time you were. A lovely girl like you. It’s only right.”

“You’re very sweet, Sebastian.”

He grins.

“I’m not entirely disinterested, Paige. I’m looking forward to pampering you in other ways when we get back. Well, not everyone might consider what I’m thinking of as being
pampered
, exactly, but I suspect you might, if some of our sexts are anything to go by.”

“Ooh, are you going to tie me up tonight?”

“Maybe,” he says, his tone light, though he’s eyeing me meaningfully as he speaks. “Would you like that?”

“I’ve liked everything you’ve done to me so far,” I murmur. “You know, ever since we … started up, I’ve been fantasizing about being yours to do with as you please. I don’t know why but I just do.”

“You said you used to fantasize about me though, didn’t you? Even before the club?”

I blush.

“I did. They were relatively simple fantasies, though.”

“Want to tell me about them?”

“Oh, nothing that will surprise you, I’m sure … Giving you a blowjob in your office before you bend me over your desk and fuck me, that kind of thing. Being fucked by you in the classroom after class.”

He raises an eyebrow playfully, even as his eyes darken with a hunger I know so well. “I’m sure that could be arranged … So tell me, this whole bondage, dom/sub thing, this only came later?”

“It was only afterwards … when I was trying to seduce you on your couch, and you grabbed me by the wrist and told me to be careful what I asked for, because you had very specific tastes. I - I got really wet, and, well you know what happened after that.”

“Yes, I do,” he says softly, still staring into my eyes, this time with a very pronounced gleam in his own, before he wipes his mouth with his napkin, then takes my hand and kisses it.

Without his gaze to hold my own, I look up briefly, and it’s in that moment that I see the creep in the distance. He appears to have just come up from downstairs, presumably from the bathroom, but he’s looking at us, and while I avert my gaze immediately, I can feel the color drain from my cheeks.

Sebastian, always so exquisitely aware of my every reaction (perhaps I unwittingly squeezed his hand a bit tighter?), looks up at me, and as our eyes meet, a look of comprehension crosses his face.

“Kiss me,” he says.

His voice is low, and yet there’s something urgent, peremptory about it, as though it were an order.

I obey, sliding my arms around his neck and kissing him, before he takes over, his mouth covering mine in that dominant, almost imperious way that never fails to make me melt and close my eyes and yield to his embrace, leaving its duration and intensity entirely to his discretion.

As we make out, I feel his hand wander up to my right breast and cup it - quite firmly, to the point that one of the straps of my dress falls off the side of my shoulder.

I’m faintly aware that that’s the side facing out, so that anyone who happens to be looking in our direction would see him feeling me up.

“That bastard needs to understand that you belong to me,” he growls in my ear when we finally take a break for air, and readjusts my shoulder strap.

It’s funny, I understand he’s probably alluding to his earlier comment about the creep, but there’s also something about his voice that suggests that our quick interlude may somehow have re-activated his dom mode.

It’s certainly re-activated my sub mode, whether he intended to or not - perhaps it was the way he took my mouth and felt me up, just like that, not caring about where we were, or if anyone else besides the creep might see us.

Or perhaps it was the idea that I
belonged to him
…

He seems to notice my renewed excitement - it’s probably the way I’m staring at him, wide-eyed and breathless - because his smile takes on a lustful edge.