Samantha Hunter - About Last Night...

He closed his eyes and pictured her, feeling his insides tighten and his skin go warm. She was almost his height—nearly six feet—slim, and strong. She had…presence. There was intelligence in her face and, God knows, her voice alone could inspire his fantasies for nights on end.

She was beautiful, no doubt, with long, curling sable hair that tumbled everywhere and deep brown eyes that didn’t miss a thing. He’d often dreamed about wrapping those tresses around his hands, or burying his face in them. But she was more than beautiful.

She had a kind of fire that always seemed to be burning just under the surface, a quiet intensity. Yet she was one of the most open and friendly people he knew. If only he could bring himself to take the chance—

“Dr. Jacobs?”

Shaken out of his reverie, he looked up and saw Nell, his teaching assistant, standing in the doorway. It was getting dark outside and he switched the small desk lamp on, glancing at his watch. He was due at Miranda’s soon. He was curious as to what had prompted her to send that strange e-mail telling him to show up but remain silent. Probably Penny and Travis were in on whatever it was as well.

“Hello, Nell. What can I do for you?”

She stepped tentatively into the office, laying a stack of papers down on the desk.

“These are done. I applied the grading criteria you gave me as best I could, but I marked some of the ones that were less clear with Post-its for your review.”

He smiled. Nell was a first-year doctoral student in clinical psychology, and she worked hard—maybe too hard. Her straight black hair was pulled back tightly from her face and she wore no makeup, not even lipstick. Shadows showed under her eyes. It made her appear very…sparse. And exhausted.

“I appreciate you getting these to me so quickly, but you could have taken a little longer. I know you just got out of your own version of midterm hell. How are your classes going?”

She bit her lip, looking down.

“Oh, they’re fine. Quantitative stats is giving me a little bit of a problem, but I’ll get through it.”

“You will. Smythe is tough, but she’s a great professor. I’d be happy to help you with some of the problem sets if you get stuck, just let me know. Quantitative is important.”

She nodded and turned her head to glance out the window that overlooked the quad.

“You’re here pretty late. I didn’t expect you to be in, but figured I would leave the tests on your desk for morning.”

“Yes, well, I’m trying to get through this grading. There may be a few students from your section I’ll need to confer with you about before this is over.”

She smiled, and he thought she might actually be pretty if she tried.

“Okay, just let me know when you need me to do that. I am usually near e-mail.”

He was eager to draw their conversation to a close, but wanted to be supportive. “You’re doing a great job, Nell. Above and beyond. Tell you what, let me take you for a coffee next week and we’ll talk about the tests in a more pleasant place than the office. Sound good?”

She nodded awkwardly and in the low light he could just see pink stain her cheeks as she backed away from the desk. He stepped around the desk, looking at his watch again, and knew he had to hurry her out of the office if he was going to make it to Miranda’s in time.

“Listen, I remember what it was like, and I want us to have a different kind of relationship than I had with my advisor. Hopefully a much more friendly one.”

He slipped a companionable arm around her shoulders and guided her to the doorway, needing to hasten her departure so he could leave. He gave her arm a quick squeeze before reaching for his jacket. Her eyes widened and she nodded before saying a quick goodbye and exiting the room. He shook his head, hoping he’d gotten his point across. This was the first semester he had had his own teaching assistant, and he didn’t want to get a reputation as an ogre.

He was all for hard work, but sometimes if you over-did it, your production could actually suffer. He saw it happen all the time in burned-out students and colleagues. Other advisors had their T.A.s over to dinner, and created more of a social situation, treating them like colleagues more than students. He made a mental note to make more of an effort in that area. Coffee would be a start.

He shut down the laptop. It was later than he had thought, and he had to get going. Closing up his briefcase, he grabbed his jacket and shut the light off behind him, wondering again what Miranda’s mysterious e-mail was all about. He expected to find out soon.

MIRANDA HEARD the truck pull up in front of the house and looked out into the lighted driveway, confirming that it was Colin. She peered through the curtain, watching all six feet of him slide out of the heavy-duty pickup, and sucked in a breath. He stood for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure what to do, or why he was there, and then closed the truck door.

He wore the years well, the man fulfilling the promise in the boy, his lanky frame filled out, muscular and hard. She watched him approach the door, the muscles of his thighs stretching against his jeans with each long step. Miranda had frequently treated herself to the view of those jeans from behind and quivered in anticipation of seeing what was underneath them. He still fried her brain cells like no other man ever had.

Even though she watched him approach, the knock on the door had Miranda nearly jumping out of her skin. In the twenty minutes or so she’d fussed and waited for Colin to arrive, she’d gone over every move, every detail, many times. He was on time, seven sharp, as she knew he would be. The moment was at hand. She pulled herself up, reminding herself that this was Colin, the man she’d known her entire life, and whom she’d always been attracted to. This could only be good, right?

Forcing herself to relax, she went to her bedroom door, calling to him to come in. She watched him enter the room and look up the stairs, following her voice. When his eyes widened in surprise, traveling down the length of her scantily clad body and back to her face, his mouth opened to speak, but she quickly put a finger to her lips, silencing him.

“No. No talking. Just come up.”

It was clear from his expression that whatever he’d been expecting, this was not it. She gestured to him to join her with a naughty little tilt of her head, smiling in delicious anticipation. This was going to be fun.

COLIN HEARD the door click shut behind him and swallowed hard as the scent of her sexy perfume wafted over him. He walked up the stairs on automatic pilot, curiosity consuming him. What was going on?

It was clear enough when he saw her, posed sexily in the doorway of her bedroom. He tried to train his eyes in another direction, but the room was clearly set for seduction. Then his gaze landed on her again, disbelief coursing through him. It was almost hard to believe this was Miranda—his Miranda—with whom he’d had snowball wars and late-night pizza parties when they were kids.

She walked up to him and he felt his groin tighten in a way that suggested he was going to have a very hard time resisting her. It was every fantasy he’d ever had about her coming true. The sheer gown she wore hid next to nothing, and it occurred to him that this was the first time he’d seen her naked, or as close to it as he could imagine. Well, there had been that one time they’d all gone skinny-dipping when they were thirteen, but that was not the same at all.

The lacy material clung to her breasts, and was slit nearly to the hip. A long, silken leg emerged as she walked toward him, and he wasn’t sure, but he might have groaned out loud.

“Mir—”

“Shh! No talking. I told you.”