The Reclamation (The Club Trilogy Book 2) (13 page)

“I’ll do my best, Professor.”

Professor Martin laughs—something I’ve rarely seen the woman do.

“Wonderful,” she says, bubbling over with enthusiasm. “Why don’t you come on up here with me?” She pats a stool up front.

Oh boy, it’s on like Donkey Kong. I can feel it. Jonas saunters to the front of the room, his butt a glorious sight in his jeans, his T-shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and muscled back, and I can feel half the class, men and women alike, swooning. When he takes his offered seat at the front of the class and smiles, his biceps bulging out of his short sleeves, the other half of the class falls under his spell, too.

For the next hour, Jonas elegantly and artfully, and with mesmerizing confidence, answers every question the professor and students ask. With the most adorable twinkle in his eye, and the most thoughtful tilt of his head, and an occasional, sensual lick of those luscious lips, he tells us about how contracts work in the world of complex business transactions—how they’re formed, negotiated, and what really happens as a practical matter when they’re breached (as opposed to what our textbooks say happens). He tells us what role his own lawyers play when advising him regarding multimillion-dollar deals, and, most humorously, why he so often chooses to ignore his lawyers’ “impractical and deal-killing” advice and forge ahead, anyway.

“As an entrepreneur, I’m all about stepping on the proverbial gas pedal with a lead foot—getting the deal done. The lawyers, on the other hand, or, as I most often call them, the
effing
lawyers—except I don’t say ‘effing’” —everyone in the classroom laughs, even Professor Martin, and so do I—though I’m laughing because it’s the first time I’ve heard Jonas use “effing” in place of his favorite word and it sounds comical coming out of his mouth—“tend to perceive their job as convincing me that a sane and prudent person would slam on the brakes. The thing is, in business, sanity and prudence are vastly overrated. The business world rewards risk-takers—the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward.”

It’s objectively the most interesting and thought-provoking contracts class we’ve ever had. And the sexiest. The man is gorgeous. Irresistible. Magnetic. Masculine. Brilliant. He’s got the entire classroom in the palm of his magical hand. Every woman around me is swooning over this beautiful man—I’m pretty sure I can hear eggs spontaneously popping out of ovaries all around me. Even my professor can’t keep her inner fangirl from coming out.

“Such an interesting perspective, Mr. Faraday,” Professor Martin gushes when time runs out. “And so well articulated. Thank you so much for joining us. What a lucky surprise.” She glances at me when she says the word “lucky” and I blush.

It occurs to me that if Jonas were to ask Professor Martin to come home with him tonight and spread her creamy thighs on his crisp white sheets, she’d say yes. Or, more accurately, “oh, hell yes—let’s go right now.”

“Come back and join us any time,” my professor coos to Jonas in the last moments of class.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Professor,” Jonas says, flashing his most outrageously charming smile.

As Jonas walks back up the aisle toward me, everyone applauds in appreciation—and quite a few of them also steal envious glances at me, too.

Why her?

What makes her so special?

I can’t believe she gets to have sex with a man who looks like that.

It’s as though I can hear their thoughts bouncing off the walls.

He’s mine,
I send back to them.
Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.
It’s all I can do not to re-enact last night’s dream right here, right now, in front of all of them, right on top of Professor Martin’s desktop.

“You were magnificent,” I tell Jonas when he reaches me at my desk. “So knowledgeable. Confident yet self-deprecating.” I smile broadly at him. “Ridiculously charming.”

“Thanks. I hated every minute of it.” He takes the seat next to me.

“No, you didn’t. You
think
you did, but you didn’t.”

He rolls his eyes. “Is this the part where you tell me what I
think
I want isn’t actually what I want?”

“You were in your element. You can’t fake something like that. You were brilliant.”

“I would rather have been sitting here next to you.” His eyes are earnest.

Damn, those eyes of his. They get me every time.

“Let’s go to the library,” I whisper. “I’ve got something I need to do.”

“Sure,” Jonas replies. But then he catches something in my expression that makes him smile broadly at me. “Whatever you say, baby—I’m all yours.”

Chapter 11

Sarah

“Tell me about your dream,” Jonas says softly. “The one that made you come in your sleep.”

We’re standing in the massive law library, deep in the bowels of the book stacks. He’s got me pinned against a metal bookshelf stacked floor-to-ceiling with thick legal tomes.

He kisses my neck. “Tell me all about it, pretty baby.” His erection bulges inside his jeans. He glides his hand up my thigh, underneath my skirt, and onto my bare ass cheek. He lets out a soft moan as his hand gropes me and pulls me into him. “I love this ass.”

I’m trembling with my desire for him.

He nips at my ear. “Tell me what turned you on so much that you came in your sleep.”

“I’m such a big girl now, aren’t I? Coming all by myself like that.”

“You
are
a big girl. A beautiful, sexy, irresistible girl.”

His hand moves to the cotton crotch of my G-string and caresses me lightly. I lift my leg up and around him, inviting him inside me. His fingers push the pesky fabric of my panties aside and brush lightly across my sensitive flesh.

I shudder.

He brushes his fingers lightly across me again, and when my pelvis thrusts involuntarily toward him in response, his fingers dip ever so gently into my wetness.

I moan softly.

“You like that?”

“Mmm hmm.”

I like that a whole lot, thank you, and a few other things, too. For instance, I also like the way every woman in that classroom looked at Jonas like they wanted to fuck him. And I like that they can’t have him because he’s all mine. And I like how, right before we left the classroom, he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me softly in front of all those staring eyes and then grabbed my hand and brought my thumb ring to his warm lips.

Just behind me in the next aisle over, two students walk by. They’re chatting softly as they go. I turn my head and peek at them through the cracks between books. They keep walking past, oblivious to the well-hung cowboy and his horny little pony groping each other just a few feet away on the other side of the bookshelf.

Jonas’ fingers continue working their magic on me. A loud moan threatens to escape my throat, so I bite his neck.

“Ow,” Jonas says in surprise. “Jesus. Why so violent?”

I stifle my giggle.

Movement flickers in the spaces between the books and someone coughs behind us. We both freeze, grinning at each other like kids removing the lid off a cookie jar.

Whoever it is, they keep moving down the aisle.

“Come on, My Magnificent Sarah.” His fingers resume their exploration. “Tell me what turned you on so much.”

I unbutton his jeans.

“It was the most erotic dream I’ve ever had,” I whisper.

“I like that word.”

“Erotic?”

He nods.

“Erotic... erotic... erotic.” Each word is accompanied by a wet kiss on his neck. “
Un sueño erótico
.”

He moans softly. Jonas loves it when I speak Spanish.

I lick his neck where I bit him a moment ago.

“Tell me.”

I tell him about my dream and why it was so deliriously arousing to me—at least, I try to tell him. Talking is surprisingly hard to do when there are magic fingers massaging your wahoo and soft lips kissing your skin and warm breath in your ear.

When I’m done talking, it’s quite obvious he’s turned on by my dream, too.

“The red wine was dripping all over your skin?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Over your clit?” His voice has turned husky.

“Mmm.”

“And I was licking it up?” He exhales a soft groan.

“You were everywhere all at once.”

“Licking you?” Oh yeah, he’s really turned on.

“Fucking me, kissing me, touching me, licking me, eating me. All at once.”

He grips my ass and pulls me into him. “Sounds like heaven.” His lips skim mine as his fingers move in and out of me.

I’m panting. “But it was still
you.
Every mouth and penis and finger was
yours
. That’s why it turned me on
.
” I don’t want him to misunderstand and think I’m craving some sort of orgy, because I’m not. Even in my dreams, I only want him—one at a time, ten at a time, like a poltergeist, whatever, it doesn’t matter, as long as it’s him. I only want him.
Jonas Faraday.

My hand moves into his jeans. He exhales when my fingers find his erection. It’s enormous, ready for business. I yank down on the waistband of his briefs and peel back the front of his jeans, freeing his hard-on. He groans as his erection springs out of his pants.

“You’re a human Jack in the Box.”

He grins. “Only if you’re the box.”

I bite his shoulder, stifling my laughter.

He nips at my ear. “Back to your dream, baby.” His fingers continue manipulating me with astonishing precision. “The people watching—that turned you on?”

“Mmm.” I can’t say anything more than that. His fingers have found the exact spot that makes me crazy. It’s all I can do not to scream right here in the library. My body has begun jerking and grinding like crazy. I’m on fire. “Oh, God, Jonas,” I murmur, my pleasure rising. “Yes.”

A young woman enters our row, down at the end, headed toward us. We both briefly freeze. She stops dead in her tracks, a stricken look on her face, and quickly strides away in the opposite direction.

We both burst out laughing. I bury my mouth into his broad shoulder again, trying to silence myself.

“We’ve scarred her for life,” Jonas whispers.

“Sucks to be her.”

Jonas’ fingers resume what they were doing. His fingers slide from my wetness to my tip and back again, over and over. I shudder.

“You like that?”

I nod enthusiastically. “Mmm.”

“You like the idea of people watching us fuck?” he clarifies.

Oh, I thought he was asking me about his magic fingers. “Mmm hmm.” My hand moves up and down his shaft. His tip is already wet—he’s ready to blow. I’m so turned on, I can barely stand.

He lets out a soft moan. “Why?” He exhales. He kisses my lips and the pleasure zings me right between my legs—it’s as if a live wire runs directly from my lips to my clit. His free hand grazes my back and unfastens my bra from underneath my T-shirt. He pulls my shirt up and licks my breast. His tongue swirls around my nipple. My clit flutters violently.

I moan. I can’t take it anymore. “Now,” I whisper.

He ignores me, as usual. He lowers my shirt and grabs my ass under my skirt again.

I grind myself into him. “Now,” I say again.

“Why did you like people watching us?”

I raise my leg even higher around him and tilt myself toward him. “Come on, Jonas, right now.”

“Patience, baby.” He sucks on my lower lip and my entire body convulses. “You never learn, do you?”

I shake my head. It’s true. I never learn.

“First tell me why you liked being watched. Tell me why and I’ll fuck you.”

I’m almost desperate now. I’m tempted to kneel and take him into my mouth—I want him inside me, any way I can get him—but I resist the urge. We are in a library, after all. “Because they all wanted you. Every single one of them wanted you.” I stroke him vigorously.

He makes a primal sound and shudders. He yanks on my G-string under my skirt and pulls it down roughly, making me moan in anticipation.

His fingers are spellbinding. Oh my God, he’s so talented. I can’t stand it anymore. “No more prelude, Jonas,” I whisper. “Do it now.”

He spreads my legs slightly with his thigh, making me shudder, and shifts his body into position to enter into me. “Who cares if they want me?” He grabs my ass with both hands and lifts me up, pinning me against the bookshelf. “Tell me why it turned you on and I’ll fuck you.”

He wedges himself between my legs, his tip rubbing deliciously against my clit.

I throw my head back against the bookshelf, bracing myself for him. I want him inside me. I’m shaking. I’m panting.

“Why do you care if anyone else wants me? All that matters is you want me.”

He’s teasing me wickedly. I’m throbbing, licking my lips, aching. My pelvis is thrusting involuntarily in anticipation of him. “Fuck me right now. Oh my God, Jonas.”

“Tell me first.”

I groan. “They all wanted you, but they couldn’t have you. I liked showing them you’re mine.
You’re all mine, Jonas
.” I whimper. “
Mine.
”

He suddenly withdraws from me and straightens up.

“What the fuck?” he whispers. He stuffs himself quickly back into his jeans.

My cheeks instantly flush with shame.

Oh my God. I thought he’d
like
hearing me say he’s all mine. I open my mouth, a confused apology on the tip of my tongue, but then I quickly see that, no, that’s not it, he’s not reacting to what I said—he’s peering through the spaces between the books opposite him, his eyes narrowed to menacing slits. I peek behind me and stare in the direction of his sightline, but I don’t see anything.

He whips his head and glares at me, suddenly full of intensity. He grabs my shoulders forcefully. “Stay right here. Don’t move from this spot.” Without another word, he races down the aisle, fastening his jeans as he goes. At the end of the bookshelf, he makes a sharp right turn and vanishes into the stacks of books.

My mouth hangs open—along with my legs, my bra, my panties, my shirt, and my ego. Not to mention my vajayjay. What just happened? I quickly put myself back together. I’m trembling. What the hell? I wait for him to come back for a good two minutes—okay, maybe for a minute and a half. Okay, fine, for a solid minute. Or so. Maybe less. I’ve got to figure out what’s going on.