Teacher's Pets [Unlikely Bedfellows 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (9 page)

“I could say the same, if I had the strength to talk.” She cuddled against him, tucking her arms to his sides.

“Do you want to sleep? We should get under the covers.”

“No, just rest for a minute.”

He wrapped her in his arms. “Feel free.”

Leah let the euphoria of her orgasm wash over her. That had been great. Absolutely the best sex she’d had in a long time. Maybe ever, and she didn’t think it was because it had been too long between fuck sessions. There was something about Beau that made the sex special as well as spectacular.

If he hadn’t wandered into her class, who would she have asked to participate in the book? She’d come very close to asking Henry Matthews, a psych professor. But she couldn’t get Beau off her mind. Henry was good looking and a nice guy, but he wouldn’t have come close to this, this magical experience.

Beau was no kid, no ordinary college student, and, thankfully, no longer a military man. She would have had a serious conflict with her conscience had he still been in the service, an institution with which she disagreed. That he had come into her life right when she needed someone seemed almost like an omen. The book would be successful. Her body would be satisfied beyond her wildest dreams. Tenure was in the bag.

“Can I move you to the side for a minute? I need to take care of this rubber or we’ll have an accident.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I should have thought.”

Yes, you should have thought. You need to keep this impersonal, academic. The book! The book, the
book
. It’s all that matters.

She moved off his chest and stretched out on her side to watch him get up. Every part of his body was muscled—his legs and thighs, hips and shoulders. The man looked like a real, live comic book hero, even from the back. He dropped the latex bag into the trash can near the bed and pulled back the bedspread and sheet.

“Come on,” he said. “With the air conditioning on, you’ll get too cold.”

Since ending their activity, Leah had noticed the cool air blowing across her skin. She lifted herself on one arm and pushed the bed linens under her until she could manage to get her feet in. That was when Beau climbed in and pulled the covers over them. Immediately, he put his arm under her neck and pulled her to him. His body put out heat like a furnace. She warmed immediately but couldn’t move because he had his arm around her.

In seconds, his deep breaths told her he was asleep. Leah had more important things to do than sleep. Besides the exhilaration of fantastic sex, Leah had the opening of her book. Before she’d even slept with the second man, Beau already showed signs of jealousy. The strength with which he held her now indicated a proprietary feeling. When she did take another man to bed, she had no doubts that sparks would fly. The tale would be thrilling and a bestseller as big as the Kinsey Reports
.

Tenure, here I come!

* * * *

Steve closed the front door and tossed his keys in the brass bowl near the door where he and Beau kept things they wanted to pick up quickly on their way out. He was beat after three hours in the chemistry lab, a fast sandwich, and another three hours studying at the library. Alone. He’d tried hard all night not to think about Beau and Leah or what they were doing. He’d failed a number of times. Now he was worn out from his roller-coaster emotions and would most likely have to put up with even more—the noise of their sex—because Leah was still there. He’d parked beside her Datsun 240Z in the driveway.

He walked into the kitchen and immediately sensed the acrid odor of burned tomato sauce. There was no evidence of the crime, but Steve knew it anyway. He’d grown up with that sauce, and his mother at one time or another had committed every atrocity a woman could make against the lowly tomato. Not that he’d let Beau know that.

He searched for leftovers of dinner but found nothing. “So much for a nosh,” he muttered and then decided he’d just go to bed. Midnight was hardly late, but staying awake would only evoke more visions of the mighty amount of sex that had taken place in the house that night.

Turning out the lights that Beau had left on for him, he walked down the hall to his room. As he passed Beau’s room, he heard low voices and a soft moan. Jesus! He’d go crazy if they started in and he had to listen to bedsprings all night.

He went into the bathroom and made as much noise as he could, letting the lovers know they weren’t alone any longer.

When he finished, he opened the door at the same time Beau’s door opened. Beautiful Leah brushed past Beau, pausing to kiss him.

“Good night, Steve,” she said coolly as she went down the hall. He leaned against the doorframe and scratched his ear while Beau walked her out to her car. The bastard was bare chested, barefoot, and looked thoroughly satisfied. As did she. Steve sighed.

The sound of Leah’s Datsun pulling away followed Beau back into the house.

Steve wandered into his bedroom, wondering if he should ask about the evening or not. When Beau came out of his room carrying a tray with a saucepan and the remnants of the French bread, Steve decided to find out what his friend would volunteer.

“So,” he started, settling at the breakfast bar.

“So,” Beau agreed. “How was your evening?” He rinsed two salad bowls and rewrapped what remained of the bread. “The sauce was great. Thanks.”

“Not a problem. It burned, huh?”

Beau shot him a sheepish look. “I was distracted.”

“I can imagine. I don’t want to, but unfortunately, I can.”

Smiling, Beau said, “I promise, nothing you could possibly imagine, nothing in your wildest dreams, nothing you’ve ever experienced—”

“Jesus Christ, stop! I get it. You heard angels sing.”

“Right there at the foot of the bed.”

“I’m thrilled for you.”

Beau laughed. “I can tell.”

“When are you seeing her again?”

“Next Friday. She has to see Little on Wednesday.”

“What? Seven hours with the god of the sheets and she’s still going to sleep with that little wimp? Pun intended.”

Beau absently scratched his arm. “You were right. There’s something going on, something she’s doing with him and me.”

“God only knows what she’s doing with him.” Steve studied his friend. “Does it bother you?”

“Well, yeah. I think it does.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, in the same pose he’d struck when Leah arrived.

“I mean, it’s not like it was
me
she was with as the second man.” Steve said it as a joke but half wished it was true.

“I know,” Beau said, surprising him.

“So what do you think is going on?”

“Don’t know. It’s as though we’re subjects in an experiment. And it
won’t
be you,” he added. “I tried to tell her that you’re okay, but she wouldn’t even consider giving you another chance.”

Hearing that bothered Steve more than he cared to admit. When he’d first known her, Leah had been the mythical girl about whom someone could say, “she has a good personality.” The fact was, he would have been happy to vouch for the fact that she was worth spending time with. Sure, he was as shallow as the next guy. He wouldn’t have tried to get her into bed. But there was real substance in her. Substance he’d appreciated then and still did. Taking a woman’s virginity in a drunken fuck was a big deal. But he hated that Leah didn’t think of him with even some small degree of friendship, despite that last night.

“She has good reason,” he said. “I wish I’d never asked her to the party.”

“Maybe she’ll come around.”

“Maybe.” But he didn’t think so. Regret settled in his stomach like a stone.

“Well, I’m hitting the sack,” Beau said. “Thanks for giving us some space tonight.”

“Hey, no big deal.”

“You going to bed?”

He’d come home ready for bed, mentally drained. Now, for some reason, he knew he’d never be able to sleep. “After a while.”

“Okay. See you in the morning.”

“Yeah. Sleep well.”

Beau’s door closed. The evidence was clear. Beau and Leah had hit it off, big time. They had fucked the night away then eaten
his
sauce with bread, no doubt in bed. Probably feeding each other like lovesick teens. Then they’d planned another tryst, during which he’d probably have to vacate the house again.

The first woman he’d ever thought of as a friend—which was a hell of a lot harder to find than a woman to fuck, and he wished Leah could appreciate that—wanted his best friend. At the same time, she hated his guts.

What was he going to do about that?

Leah walked into class Monday morning with a spring in her step even she noticed. Friday night had done more for her well-being than any tonic available at Cardinal Drug. Fucking should be touted by the medical profession as a prescription for whatever ails a body.

“Good morning, class,” she said. Since she’d stopped wearing the sexy, outlandish outfits and settled on business attire, the class attendance had settled, too, to a reasonable number of students with mostly average grades.

“No test today,” she announced and was greeted with kids sitting up straighter and looking brighter. “What’s the smallest number that constitutes a group?”

“Three,” said a boy in the third row.

“Correct. So today we’re going to divide into groups of three and work collaboratively on a sociological problem. You will spend class time today exchanging ideas. Then you will decide who writes the paper, who creates the presentation, and who will deliver to the class. You will receive an individual grade as well as a group grade. This will be due on Friday, but you won’t have class on Wednesday to work together. Only today. Make the most of your time.” She pulled out a sheaf of papers from her briefcase. “We have fifteen people in class.” She pointed to the boy sitting on the end in the first row. You can start the count off, by fives.”

“One,” he said.

“Two,” the next person said, and it went on until the last person said, “Five!”

“Okay, all the
ones
gather down here.” She gestured to the left side of the room and then pointed to the front center. “
Twos
down here.”

When all the groups settled, she passed out each group’s problem. “Papers should be two thousand words or more. Everyone in the group is responsible for research and developing the idea for the presentation.” The euphoria over not having their daily test quickly faded when they realized the task before them, but soon each group had heads bent and were hard at work.

“I’m right here if you have any questions.”

She sat at the desk and took out her own work.

It hadn’t been only the sex with Beau on Friday that made her smile. She had sat most of the weekend at the computer, compiling the several references Beau had made regarding Charles and her having sex with two men as well as those Charles had made before their date.

The reactions of the men at the beginning of the sexual timeframe and how they changed as the males became more proprietary was the whole thesis of her book. She hypothesized that each man would jump at the chance to have sex with a woman if there were no strings attached and not care that there was another man—as long as he knew about it. But she also theorized that the men would turn more selfish about her as time went on. Beau had already shown signs.

She further planned to prove that the male response was nothing more than a biological instinct, a remnant of evolution. Primates fought for a harem of females. Ancient man took many women for procreation because of the high mortality rate. Men liked lots of women now because they enjoyed sex, but they still wanted that one they could put claim to. She planned to show that she was the “one” for both Charles and Beau—males who already harbored antithetical feelings for each other.

She rubbed her hands together, hardly able to contain her glee. The two publishers she’d contacted assured her that no other book went beyond theory. No other author had been a participant, right there to hear each word and observe each nuance. That was her ace in the hole. How lucky that she enjoyed her “work.”

She watched the class, taking occasional notes. Before she knew it, the bell rang.

“No homework this week except this project. Wednesday we will discuss Texas. The state has some dynamic population issues that affect those beyond state lines.”

Leah was pleased to see the groups mostly exited together, still talking. She would present her own presentation on grouping virtual strangers and seeing how they worked together. The projects were for them, but the information of how they handled the project would be for her as well. People never failed to amaze her.

“Hello.” Steve stuck his head in the door just as she was loading her briefcase.

What part of
leave me alone
did he not understand? “What are you doing here?”

“I just stopped by to say hi.” He stepped into the room and then stopped. “Can I help with that load?”

“It would be wonderful if there was an easier way to carry work around besides lugging all these papers and books,” she said. “But no. I can handle it.”