Lost in Light by Kat Kingsley Read Free Book Online Page B

to himself. Setting his paint brush aside he wiped his fingers on a paint stained rag.
    “Miss Parker,” he greeted, his chest heaving as he ran a hand over his hair. “Did you need something?”
    “I err… was h-hoping I could talk to you.”
    “Did you have a question regarding this weeks’ lecture?” he asked, the memory of the nude photographs he had displayed bringing heat to my face.
    “Ah no,” I mumbled. “It’s about what happened last week.”
    Instantly his face darkened, and he strode towards me with almost inhuman speed, his fingers curling around my shoulders like hot bands of steel as his eyes roved over me from head to toe.
    “Has he touched you again? Did he hurt you? Tell me,” he demanded angrily, the fierce heat in his voice reminding me of that day and how he had threatened Jake, his words both scaring and arousing me.
    “No, nothing like that!” I quickly reassured him, feeling my shoulders sag in relief as his face smoothed and the vicious anger faded from his eyes. “I actually wanted to ask you a favor.”
    “Is that right?” he asked, releasing my shoulders and rocking back on his heels, his brows furrowed slightly in curiosity.
    This was it. I was about to ask him to do the unthinkable. I was jeopardizing my education and future, and asking him to risk his career. But I knew deep down that this was the way it had to be.
    “I want you to be my first,” I blurted, the words leaving me in a rush before I could back down.
    “Your first what, Miss Parker?”
    “My first… you know…” I faltered, vaguely gesturing to the space between us.
    Realization dawned on his face, his emerald eyes widening in surprise.
    “That’s…quite a favor,” he said with a humorless laugh. “I think perhaps we had better sit down and talk about this.” Running his hand over his hair he eyed me thoughtfully for a moment, and then switched off the iPod and he directed me to his open office.
    Shutting the door behind us, Professor Davis moved around behind his desk to retrieve a packet of wet wipes from his top drawer and began removing the last traces of paint from his hands and forearms. Buttoning his shirt, he tucked it haphazardly into his pants though he left his shirt sleeves rolled up, the moist dark hair of his arms sticking up wildly.
    “It is a rare occurrence for me to be at a loss for words,” he said by a wry smile. “But I must admit that you have done a spectacular job of leaving me speechless.”
    “I’m sorry?” I ventured, unsure of what to say next. I had been so focused on asking my question that I had failed to consider that I might have to persuade him. After all, with the way he had been watching me, flirting with me, it had never occurred to me that he might say no.
    “There’s nothing to be sorry for, but I wonder if you have considered what you are asking. Ethical issues aside, you have recently suffered a traumatic event. Perhaps you had better take some time to think things through.”
    “I have thought about this, I haven’t been able to think about anything else!” I said, my voice shrill and louder than I had expected. Pausing for breath I fought to calm my racing pulse, staring down at my hands clenched in my lap.
    “I have thought about this. I can’t stand the thought of the memories of my first time being that jerk Jake and what he did to me,” I continued in a calmer voice, risking a glance at him, but his expression gave nothing away.
    “Besides,” I muttered, dropping my gaze back down to my hands. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.”
    “And how have I been looking at you?” he asked, coming around his desk to stand in front of me. The scent of his cologne mixed with oil paint was a heady combination that made my thoughts fuzzy.
    “I thought you… I mean, I…” I stammered, suddenly unsure and feeling the beginnings of humiliation swelling in my gut.
    “You thought that I wanted you. That I imagine burying my hands in