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had her. She watched his face contort, and his serious look give way to an expression of utter pleasure. Pressing her body to his, she kissed him. “Thank you.”
    “We’re not done.” He reached between them and used one finger to work her clit.
    “No.” She wiggled.
    “I’m not taking you off. You’re nice and full. It’s your turn to come.” He held her tight with just one finger on her clit and his other hand swatting her backside.
    “I can’t be quiet.” She shook her head and gave him a pleading look.
    “Then kiss me.” His mouth claimed her.
    She grabbed his face and held on as he rubbed her clit faster and added more fingers to the job. Her hips snapped down on his cock as she built quickly. The man was a genius. His pressure was even and consistent with no hesitation as she gasped, moaned, whimpered and finally cried out into his mouth. His moans helped to muffle her squeals of release as her body melted to his.
    As she buried her face in his neck, he held her. “See, you can be quiet.”
    “You’re amazing,” she whispered.
    “We’ll see about that red ass tonight at your place. I’ll be there at six. Write down the address for me.” He smacked her ass.
    “My house?” She froze. “No, I don’t have the collection. Your place is decked out for the play perfectly.”
    “I can work with nothing. It’s your turn to play host.” He tugged her bra and top up. “You don’t want me around?”
    “No, it’s just small and not much.” She shrugged. Why was he pushing things so fast? She didn’t make big, tenured-professor money. She climbed off him slowly and found her footing.
    Pulling her skirt down, she admired his spent cock as she grabbed a pen from the desk and wrote her address mindlessly on his to-do pad. His desk was so orderly she didn’t need to look for anything. Army brat. It fit him. They were getting closer, and it scared her just a bit.
    * * * *
    He agreed with her assessment of the apartment. Small and nothing fancy was right, and he also didn’t care for the location. It was a cheaper section of apartments just off campus, and he wanted her to be safe. Protectiveness of a sub was normal, but with Minny it was stronger than anything he’d ever felt. Working with her for a year probably had a little something to do with that impulse.
    She wasn’t dumb or gullible, but something about the way she’d shared her mother’s illness made him feel as though she’d had too much worry in her life.
    “Want more?” she offered.
    He looked down and realized he’d devoured all the pasta and Alfredo sauce with spicy chicken. “No, I’m good. I didn’t know you were such a good cook.”
    “Not as healthy and well-balanced as you.” She wiped her mouth.
    Grabbing a breadstick, he watched her clear the table in that same cute little outfit from earlier. He’d had the best day despite whiney grad students and uncooperative research. She made everything better.
    “Did you cook for your mom?” he asked.
    She paused then took a sip of water. “Yep. She didn’t eat a lot, the drugs, so I cooked rich stuff. Things she craved. Did you learn to cook on the Army base?”
    “Partly. It’s important to be able to take care of yourself.”
    She sat down next to him. “Your body is clearly good enough for the military. Why didn’t you try it?”
    “I liked school better than following orders. As high up as my dad got, everyone has someone above them giving orders. At least with a department head, I can make my case and have a healthy debate.” He shrugged.
    “You like giving the orders.” She slid her foot alongside his.
    “I do, to you. I was good at school and got a free ride to college and beyond. I didn’t want to go to into basic training. But I did always keep up my workout regime.” He took her hand. “Would you prefer a soldier?”
    “No, I was just curious. It makes sense though. Most of the professors can be fussy and stuffy but still absentminded. I’ve seen