Shuttered Affections (Cornerstone #1) (4 page)

His words made heat pool in my gut, my insides clench, and
my clit throb. He could obviously turn me on with the simplest of words and the
simplest of touches.

As if he could sense my arousal, he smiled and his touch
became more sensual—his eyes offering a promise I could only ever dream
of.

I had to say something, do something, before I lost full
control.

“I’m just happy you find my work so…” I trailed off, unsure
of exactly what to say.

“Inspiring? Vibrant? Beautiful?” he continued for me. “There
are many words I could use to describe you, Angel. Although, I’m having a hard
time putting into words just how your photographs touch me. You say you’re
focusing on sculpture and not photography?”

Now that was a loaded question. Both were my passions, but I
had a feeling I was more talented when it came to sculpture.

I was proud of my sculptures on a different level than my
photography. I’m sure it didn’t help matters that my father seemed to identify
with my sculptures more than anything else I had ever accomplished. I was
hoping if I focused on sculpture, he would approve of my desires to pursue art.
But, again, I was let down by his lack of excitement and his pressure for me to
go into the Architecture program instead.

“Yes, I’m focusing on sculpture even though I have an equal
amount of passion for photography as well. They are both loves of mine. I could
get lost for hours, even days, when working on my artwork. However, the
sculpture program at the university is very highly recommended. I would be
nothing short of lucky if I even had a chance to apply, let alone actually be
accepted.” I let my words rattle out of my mouth before I even had a chance to
filter them.

He looked at me with wary eyes, like he was contemplating
something. Then his gaze softened and he spoke, “Well, we’ll just have to see
about what photography programs are available also.” He finished his sentence
off with a wink before turning and stacking up my negatives.

I glanced at the clock and realized my next class wasn’t for
another thirty minutes.

He helped carry my negatives back over to the lab table and
I neatly put them back in the sleeves.

As I was putting the negatives away, he laid out several of
my prints that had hit the asphalt. He carefully began brushing them with the
dust brush that was so finely seated in his back pocket before. Once he was
finished, he slid the handle of the brush back in his pocket, bringing my
attention to his ass once again.

Oh, hell. I’m never
going to get anything accomplished when I’m around this man.

He backed up two steps and crossed his arms over his tight
chest. As he stood examining my photographs, I sat on the stool and examined
him.

He was fairly tall. Of course, it didn’t take much for
someone to be taller than my 5’4” height.

He looked to be about six to eight inches taller than
myself, which was perfect in my opinion, because it brought my nose right to
the center of his muscular pectorals. I imagined nuzzling into his chest and
letting his scent fill my nose.

My eyes fluttered shut and I subconsciously allowed a sigh
to leave my throat.

As I snapped out of my luscious reverie, I opened my eyes to
his gaze on me, burning me with intensity. I knew he could feel the fierce
chemistry between us as a low grumble left his chest—evidence of his
desire toward me.

It only took a swift shift of his weight to approach me.

He brought his thumb to my bottom lip and tugged on it,
releasing my lip from the grip of my teeth. His thumb slowly traced my bottom
lip and then grazed toward the corner of my mouth.

My hand reflexively came up and touched his, pressing it
against my face.

I leaned into his touch, gliding my fingers over his and
down to his wrist, where I let my grip settle, holding onto him and hoping he wouldn’t
ever let go. I knew it was wrong, but it still felt so right. I needed the
comfort and affectionate touch of a man more than I was willing to admit.

As he wrapped his fingers behind my neck and began pulling
us together, a door banged shut just outside the classroom, making us both jump
and immediately release each other.

I pulled away quickly and couldn’t help the embarrassment
that flushed its way into my skin.

“We can’t…” I said, as we both realized how close we were to
making a huge mistake and getting caught in the process.

What in the world am I
thinking? Oh, that’s right. I’M NOT THINKING!

This man caused all my mental capacities to fly right out of
my ears.

“I know we can’t. But don’t worry. I locked the doors so we
wouldn’t be disturbed during your independent study,” he said, as he looked
away from me and ran his fingers through his sexy, golden blond hair.

I looked down at the table, while he stepped back and
resumed his stance. I still couldn’t help but stare as he stood so strong and
confident, like he wasn’t affected by our near discretion.

After several seconds, he went toward my prints on the table
and rearranged them. I watched him as he backed away again and stood with his
strong legs shoulder-width apart. His arms were crossed over his chest, making
every one of his muscles bulge beneath his white shirt. The look of
determination on his brow made him appear even sexier. He did this several
times until he finally stepped back and smiled.

He looked at me and, with a crook of his finger, he said,
“Come here, Juliana.”

Yes, sir!

My pulse quickened and I slowly, but confidently, slid off
the stool and made my way over to where he stood, not veering my eyes from his
for even a moment.

He grabbed my shoulders and turned me, positioning me in
front of his body so my back was pressed to his front.

I immediately saw why he was smiling. He was fucking
brilliant!

He quickly went over to the other side of the room and
brought back a small stepping stool. Offering me his hand, he helped me climb
to the third step so I could see the prints from a higher vantage point.

At first my focus was solely on his hands positioned low on
my hips. Strong and bold, he held me with a gentle touch. But then, I
readjusted my gaze on my prints, which were strategically laid out on the
table.

Before I could react to the overwhelming view in front of
me, he spoke up.

“You see what I see, right?” he asked. I could do nothing
but nod my head and gape in amazement, my jaw clearly on the floor seven feet
below me.

He continued, “The lines flow through each piece perfectly,
like they were random puzzle pieces just waiting to be met with their mates.”

“Oh, my,” I whispered as my hand came up to my lips.

Nine of my photos were all arranged vertically in sets of
three in a seemingly random order. Only, they managed to blend together in such
a way that flowed, making a beautiful, multi-piece abstract.

“This is perfect,” I said as I leaned forward toward the
photos.

He held my hips protectively, making sure I didn’t fall.

With his fingers pressed into my hips, he lightly gestured
for me to come down off my pedestal. I complied willingly because I craved to
be next to him again.

Without warning, he increased his hold on my hips and lifted
me. I almost squealed in surprise, but he quickly brought my body against his
and allowed me to gently slide down until my feet grazed the floor. His muscles
flexed deliciously as I dug my fingers into his arms. He held onto me firmly,
one hand in the center and the other at the small of my back, just above my
ass. Pressing our bodies together, he lightly groaned as he regretfully let me
go.

Gently pushing the stool away with his foot, he turned me
and guided my hips back in front of his, my back barely brushing against his taut
abdomen.

“If you use black mats and frames to separate each print, it
will give the viewer a chance to use their imagination while the photos provide
suggestions and guide their visualization down the right path.” He held his
left hand in front of me, gesturing as he spoke—his left arm brushing
just above my left shoulder as his right hand stayed protectively on my right
hip.

I finally found my voice. “And what’s even better is, the
three other negatives I want to play around with will work perfectly in the top
row… assuming they come out well. They would make it complete.”

As I turned around, his hand, which was on my right hip,
grazed the small of my back, and then softly landed on my opposite side. I
tilted my head, looked up into his eyes, and simply said, “Thank you.”

“No, Julia. I should be thanking you. The caliber of work
you do inspires me. I love watching prints transform into something so
remarkable. And to see the look on your face right now is such a reward to me.”

Footsteps out in the hall caused me to attempt to break away
from his light, single-handed embrace. With firm hands, he caught me, not letting
me back away from him.

Out of instinct, my arms lightly snaked around his waist and
touched his strong back muscles. My eyes met his in our embrace, and we
lingered there for a few moments, just staring, wondering what was going
through the mind of the other.

Finally, we both lessened our hold and I brought my head
down to attempt some sort of balance after staring into his powerful eyes.

I figured it was probably getting close to time for my next
class. It would be a good idea to mark the order of the photos he so carefully
arranged. Doing so would also keep me busy, because I was clearly losing my
control around this man.

With a pencil in hand, I bent over the tall table, very
lightly marked the white border of each photo with a number, and gathered the
prints into a pile while he walked over to open the classroom doors.

I felt his gaze on me as I worked. I enjoyed the strength
and confidence it gave me. Obviously, I affected him and it made me feel
potent.

Since I was still slightly bent over the table, I turned my
head, looked back at him, and smiled.

A smile lit up his face and he let out a little chuckle, while
gliding his fingers through his silky hair. I thought I heard him whisper the
word ‘tease’ but it was so quiet, I couldn’t quite tell. Either way, it made my
stomach flutter again.

He turned to shut off the glow from the light table and my
trance was lessened a bit by the distance put between us.

It was a good thing too because a student walked in a few
seconds later. Thankfully, he set his bags down, grabbed his camera, and left
the room to go to the studio across the hall. I was worried the severe blush on
my face would have made my guilt evident.

I quickly packed up all my prints and negatives, then
glanced over to say goodbye. I realized then that I didn’t even know his name.

I stood up straight and attempted to look strong and
confident.

Walking over to him, I stuck out my hand to shake his and
said, “Thank you for taking the time to look at my work and speak with me, Mr.
…”

“Stone, Mr. Stone,” he said with a smile. Then he leaned in
and quietly added, “But when we’re alone, you will call me Aiden.” His
instructions were spoken with authority as he smiled a dazzling, heart-melting
grin.

Looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was paying
attention, he grabbed my hand, brought it to his mouth, and brushed a light
kiss over my knuckles.

“And, Juliana? The pleasure is all mine.”

“I was undoubtedly delusional.”

My heart was pounding.

I scrambled out of the classroom as soon as I could, racing
for the glass double doors, freeing myself in the damp Florida air. I welcomed
the refreshing spring shower that began to develop a mist in the outside halls.
Raising my face, I closed my eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath, attempting
to recover my balance.

I was in a complete state of shock as I stumbled to my Art
History class.

How could one man have such an effect on me? And he was my
teacher for crying out loud! I had to get a grip on myself. There was
absolutely no reason the man should be attracted to me. Even if I weren’t his
student, he probably wouldn’t give me the time of day. I was undoubtedly
delusional. But, what about that nickname… Angel? It seemed to be such a delicate,
endearing sentiment and oh, so personal to me. Maybe he used that nickname for
all the ladies. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

Art History class dragged on. I usually enjoyed learning
about all the art periods, movements, characteristics, famous artists, etc. but
today, I just couldn’t seem to concentrate—not with thoughts of Mr. Stone
swimming around in my confused, little head.

What did he mean by ‘when we’re alone…’? Did he plan on us
being alone a lot together? I shook my head, trying to get rid of my thoughts
of the sexy man.

Thankfully, I had a shift down at the club that night. Monday’s
weren’t the busiest, but I enjoyed working there, especially since my best
friend worked with me. So, hopefully I could bury myself into work and purge my
thoughts of the man who stole my parking spot.

The rest of the day went by a little better.

After Art History, the sprinkling rain had stopped and I was
able to peacefully enjoy my lunch in the courtyard.

The courtyard was very large and spacious, with spokes of
sidewalks separating the well-manicured lawns and leading to the various
surrounding buildings. A few scattered oak trees provided minimal shade, but I
enjoyed basking in the sun for a moment. The classrooms were usually cold and
the sun provided enough warmth for my fingers and toes to thaw.

March weather in Florida
is perfect for courtyard lunches.

Unfortunately, I then had to suffer through Calculus. I
usually didn’t mind math, but Survey of Calculus was not my idea of a good
time. Plus, my lab partner decided to drop out last week, so now I was stuck
doing the labs on my own.

As I reached for the handle to the classroom door, my phone
went off, causing me to retract and head back out to the main corridor. Maddy’s
smiling face flashed on my screen.

“Hey, Mad.”

“First of all, are you okay?” she asked, her worry evident
through the phone.

“Yes, I’m just fine. Why?” I knew why. She could tell how
frazzled I was about my post-parking-spot encounter.

“No reason to discuss it now. We’ll have plenty of time to
talk tomorrow. I just wanted to tell you some really good news I just
received!” she screeched through the phone, totally doing a one-eighty from
worry to excitement.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Well, first—you can’t tell anyone, okay?” she asked.

“Um. Okay,” I responded with skepticism, wondering where she
was going with this.

“I was just told by one of the judges I’m being accepted into
the Innovations Magazine!” she said excitedly.

“Oh, wow Maddy! How do you know that already?” I knew entry
results wouldn’t become available for at least another week. “You’ve got some
serious splainin’ to do.”

“I realize I’m not supposed to know. But, I’ve been getting
pretty chummy with one of the judges and he kinda let it slip,” she explained
in an almost whisper.

“Holy crap! You seriously need to spill. But, I have Art
History right now and have to go. Promise me we’ll continue this tomorrow,” I
prodded.

“I promise. Oh, and make sure you keep a lid on this. He
wasn’t supposed to tell me ahead of time and he could get in some serious
trouble if anyone finds out,” she warned.

“No worries. Your secret is safe with me, Mad. At least, until
someone gets a few drinks in me. Then all bets are off,” I joked.

“Yeah. We all know how loose-lipped you can be when you’re
drunk,” she responded, knowing I wouldn’t really tell anyone, regardless of
drunken mistakes. “See you tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it!” I replied before hanging up and bee-lining
it into the math lab.

In order to get through Calculus without losing my mind, I
looked forward to my last class of the day… Ceramics.

Because I had already taken all the other ceramics courses
there were, this course was especially created for pupils wanting to continue
at the University level.

Ms. Roush took time in this class to customize our projects
based on each of our specific talents and passions. So, you could say it was
more of an independent study, but we were all fortunate enough to have a
phenomenal teacher to guide us in the right directions.

Today, I needed to continue working on my mural project. At six
foot tall and over twenty-four feet wide, with high relief details, the entire
mural had to be done in sections. It was a project to be incredibly proud of. I
even took pictures at every step so I could document my progress and
achievements. The high relief gave it a three-dimensional quality that brought
the entire mural to life.

I buried myself in my work until another class caused me to
stop for the day.

Just when I thought my mind forgot about
him
, realization slammed back into me
when I walked out to the parking lot.

Mr. Stone was leaning up against my white Grand Prix, arms
crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle, dark sunglasses on, and his
head tilted back like he was enjoying the sun’s rays.

I stood across the lane, cocked my head to the side, and
studied just how damn good he looked. He had changed into jeans that molded to
him in all the right places. And the simple, white, button-up shirt he wore
spread tightly across his chest outlined every bulge in perfect detail. The
sleeves were unbuttoned at the cuff and rolled up to just below his elbow,
making the veins in his strong forearms strain against his muscles. Looking
that good had to be criminal.

When my mind began to wander into darker territories, he
lazily brought his head up and looked in my direction. He flashed a quick grin
as he lifted his sunglasses atop his head to sit perfectly into his golden
hair.

I quickly began to walk toward him, not wanting him to
realize I was staring.

“How was your day, Angel?” He stood and slid his hands in
his pockets. Of course, that brought my attention down, which flustered me at
the thoughts racing through my dirty mind.

I knew I should answer soon, but my words were lost.

I smiled and composed myself. “O-Okay. You?”

Gosh! Why does he make
me so nervous!

“My day just got much better.” His words made me blush as he
brought his thumb up to my face, wiping some clay from my cheek.

I bit my lip nervously and looked down at my feet.

When he finished wiping my cheek, he cupped my chin between
his fingers and brought my gaze up to meet his. I heard him chuckle as he
touched a strand of my hair that obviously had clay caked into it.

“Are you in a hurry?” he asked me with hope in his eyes.

“Um, sort of. Not really in a hurry, but I do have to shower
so I can wash all this clay off before I have to be at work in an hour,” I said
as I gestured down to my clay-covered jeans.

Considering it was almost six in the evening, I should have
been in a hurry. But, his stare caused my mind to go fuzzy. I just couldn’t
think straight.

His eyebrows lifted in pure interest. “Oh? Where do you
work?”

“I’m a bartender at H
²
0.” Why was he asking me
this? Was he just trying to make pleasant conversation?

“Ahh. I’m new to the area and haven’t been out much. Is it
nice?”

“I think it’s nice. But then again, I’m biased. Of course,
the clubs in town are never very busy on a Monday night, so tonight would be a
good time to check the place out in a more relaxing atmosphere. Thursday through
Saturday is extremely busy, but good money.” Why was I rambling? Did I really
just invite him to come make me nervous at work too?

“That sounds nice. I think I’d
like…”

Just as Mr. Stone stopped mid-sentence, an impatient glare
forming in his eyes, I heard someone calling my name.

I turned to see Vic running toward us. He seemed very giddy,
until he focused on Mr. Stone, and then his expression hardened.

“Hey, Vic. What’s up?” I immediately noticed the tension
between the two men and I was baffled as to why.

Mr. Stone was now possessively standing firm with both feet
spread shoulder-width apart and his arms folded tensely across his chest.

Without turning his head to look at me, his eyes still glued
to the professor in front of him, Vic said, “Uh, I was just wanting to ask you
a question before you left, but I can see your busy, so I’ll just…”

“No, I was just leaving,” Mr. Stone interrupted. “Ms.
Petersen, thanks for taking time to talk with me about your project. I will see
you on Wednesday for class.”

And with that, he slid his sunglasses on his face, put his
hands in his pockets, and walked away toward his car in the neighboring lot.

My heart sank even though I knew better than to become
attached to my professor. Regardless of how my body reacted to him, I had to force
my mind to stay clear and focused.

I waited a long moment before realizing Vic was still
standing there, staring at me. “So, Vic. How was your day?”

“Oh, I just worked during lab time today, so it was rather
relaxing and felt good to get stuff done. How was your day?” As he spoke, he
looked back in the direction where Mr. Stone disappeared through the maze of
parked cars.

“My day was a bit odd. My photography teacher is no longer
able to teach due to an illness, so I have a new teacher to get used to.” I
pointed in the same direction Vic just pulled his gaze from.

He seemed to calm a little and said, “Man, that sucks. And
right in the middle of the semester too.” He looked contrite in his words and I
just nodded in agreement.

No need to tell this stranger just how the new professor
affected me and flooded my head with lust.

“So, Vic. You had a question for me?” I went on my tiptoes
and raised my eyebrows, trying to signal to him that he needed to get on with
it already.

“Ahh, yeah. Um… I was just, well… just wondering if you
maybe wanted to go out sometime? Maybe to a movie or bowling or something?” He
looked so nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at me with his
head slightly bowed. His sincerity made me smile and I had an urge to mess with
him a little.

“Well, I did
something
last weekend and I already have plans for
sometime
,”
I said with a sarcastic smirk.

He had a look of shock on his face and quickly tried to
recover. “Ahh, let me try again. I would love it if we could go to a movie
tonight. I hear the new action movie that just came out is pretty good.”

Vic looked very adorable at this moment. His bashfulness
tugged at my heart and I felt bad for giving him a hard time with his
semi-attempt to ask me out.

“I would like that very much. But, I have to work tonight. How
about Wednesday? I hear the Union on the university campus has a 2-for-1
bowling special and they also do a special movie night, although I’m not sure
what movie they will be playing this week…” I rattled on, still feeling bad for
my initial harsh response to his proposal.

After several seconds, he still didn’t respond. “Vic?” I
leaned forward and arched my eyebrows as I was trying to get his attention.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Wednesday sounds great. Whatever you want to
do is perfect. Can I give you my number so we can figure out a time?”

I nodded, feeling a bit confused with his distracted
behavior.

Honestly, I wanted to tell him he needed to be more
confident when asking a girl out, otherwise he’d never get anywhere. But, I
could tell Vic was probably thrown off guard when he saw Mr. Stone brushing
away a strand of my hair and then quickly retreating when Vic came upon us.

He must’ve thought I was a tramp for trying to hook up with
my damn teacher.

We took out our cell phones and exchanged numbers.

I smiled and gave him a polite pat on the arm as I said
goodbye and got into my car. I watched in my rearview mirror as he walked over
to a large, red dodge pickup that had huge tires and was lifted high off the
ground, so high I would need a ladder just to get in it.

I grinned as I thought of boys and their toys.