Hot Dirty Love (Copperline #5) by Sibylla Matilde Read Free Book Online Page B

her.
    Yet maybe that’s what I needed.
    Just maybe, if she felt some attachment to me, it could drive me to feel some back. It might trigger some sense of responsibility. It was a shitty thing to do because failing would only hurt someone who was only looking for love, even if she wasn’t exactly going about it quite the right way.
    I did it anyway. Knowing full well I was a dickhead and a lost cause, I pulled her up the short stairwell by the stage during our break. Just out of sight of the boisterous crowd, I gave it a go and even allowed her to lean against me for a few minutes after. I tried to let her fulfill her own need for a human connection.
    True to form, though, the asshole manwhore in me won out. I pulled away, ignoring the sad dejected expression that crossed her face. I lightly smiled through my guilt and said “ thanks ” as though she’d just served me a beer.
    I was my father’s son.
     

     
    “I didn’t realize you were a local celebrity.”
    After Monday’s lecture, everyone had left the room. Everyone except Rain who remained in her seat until it was just the two of us.
    That alone made me edgy.
    But her words truly stopped me short. The Mofos’ notoriety at the Copperline was something I tried to keep away from the academic side of my life. It wasn’t like nobody at Tech knew, but I didn’t talk about it here. I didn’t even mention the Copperline here. I kept that duality separate.
    There, I could be my true self, free from the rules of polite—or even decent—society.
    Here, I had to be formal. Professional. Professor Badass, but a professor nonetheless. Here, I was on a different stage.
    I walked over to her table, standing right before it. Her gaze stayed focused on her notes, on the little leafy vine she was doodling along the edge of her page.
    So girly.
    Which reminded me that she was a girl.
    A really hot girl.
    And a really hot fuck.
    Dammit . I don’t fuck students .
    “I don’t really talk about my band here,” I cautiously murmured.
    “I can see why. It gives you the freedom to misbehave.”
    Something pulled at my gut, a quick pang of remorse in all the ways I was trying to forget she existed.
    But, the way she said that made me also feel just a touch busted. Like she somehow knew… and she didn’t like it.
    Without thinking it through, I responded more defensively than I should have.
    “I seem to recall that we met in the midst of me misbehaving. You were, too, actually.”
    At that reminder, said so quietly under my breath, her eyes lifted to meet mine. Dark and rebellious, laced with the knowledge that she was flirting with danger a bit just by staying after.
    I should have walked away. I knew it with every fiber of my being. This discussion was taking a perilous turn.
    Yet, I couldn’t. Especially once she looked at me.
    Her eyes conveyed so much. Passion. Apprehension. Fierce envy. And something that made my balls draw up tight.
    “You definitely have quite the following, though,” she softly remarked. “Lots of… admirers.”
    “We have a few loyal supporters,” I nodded cautiously.
    She laughed, a low, dicey sound. “More like raging groupies,” she murmured.
    I felt a catch in my throat. “You were at the Copperline.”
    “Just for a bit on Friday, but enough. I got to see you in action. On-stage… and just off.”
    A flare of discontent trickled through her gaze that carried something reckless. Right then, I knew without a doubt she had seen me fucking Laura in the stairwell.
    I crouched down, resting my arms on the table across from her. My voice was almost a whisper. I didn’t even want the walls to hear this. “You almost seem pissed about it.”
    For a long moment, we just looked at each other. She finally dropped her gaze, and sighed as she closed her notebook and tucked it in her pack. Just before she stood, she swallowed, looking back at me dead-on.
    “I don’t understand it,” she carefully began, so quietly I could barely hear her even