Seeing Harris Winter’s eyes turn gold, Nick swallowed. Of course Nick knew Harris hid a beast inside him. Every staff member at the university had a list of their students, especially those who were registered paranormals.
His heart started to race a little faster, like all those times he stood so close to Harris. Could Harris hear the changes in his breathing, the way his heart threatened to burst out of his chest? Was werewolf hearing that good?
Nick was the adult here, he should be the one in control and yet when Harris was around, the world no longer made a lot of sense. Three days ago, Nick thought he was going to die, beaten and raped by three gay bashers who attended his lectures.
He’d always been open about his sexuality on his social media pages but gone were those dark days a teacher had to hide in the closet.
He touched his throat by reflex, remembering how he screamed himself hoarse when one of them held him down. Only Harris heard his cries for help.
No. Nick wasn’t afraid of Harris’s animal. Harris might be a shifter, but he wasn’t a monster, not like the guys in the alley.
The elevator doors opened. Nick waited, knew if Harris got on, he would chase after him.
Nick’s next words could change everything, he knew that.
“Come in. Please. It’s freezing outside. Warm yourself first, at least. Have a drink with me.” Nick didn’t know who this brave man was, how he managed to utter those words without stuttering.
Harris took a couple of steps toward him, as if he was gauging whether Nick would change his mind. Shit, but the werewolf was like a Greek god come to life. The first time Harris asked him an impertinent question in the lecture hall, the werewolf rendered him completely mute.
Six-foot plus of solid muscle, dark-haired, and green-eyed, Harris was built like a linebacker. He used to play for the university’s football team but quit.
This guy wasn’t just cute, he was fucking gorgeous. That had been Nick’s first thought, followed by the realization he shouldn’t be thinking about his student that way.
It wasn’t that wrong to want Harris. According to his file, Harris was twenty-two, an adult. A mere few years younger than Nick.
He knew the guys and girls at the university buzzed around Harris. Judging by the rumors, Harris didn’t have a problem roping in someone to sleep in bed with.
Harris reached him now. Taking a step back, Nick held the door open. Once inside, Nick shut the door behind him. Harris’s broad back faced him now. Harris curiously glanced around his studio, before turning and shoving the flowers and wine at him.
“Thank you. Um, I’ll put these in a vase,” Nick said, walking to the kitchen.
He could sense Harris tailing him. For such a big guy, Harris moved so quietly. A predator, Nick reminded himself. Yet, this predator had reached out his hand when everyone else ignored his screams.
Tension spiked as Nick placed the flowers in a vase. “Where did you get these, they’re beautiful.”
“Flower shop one town over,” Harris replied.
“Apologies for my manners, can I get your coat?” he asked.
“Huh. So formal.” Harris handed him his winter coat.
Underneath, Harris only wore a thin T-shirt. Nick stared at the black ink curling around Harris’s impressive arms. More traveled down Harris’s neck and lower. Nick privately wondered how much of Harris’s skin was covered in tattoos.
He swallowed, embarrassed to be caught staring.
After hanging Harris’s jacket, he asked, “Do you want a drink?”
“Beer, if you have it.”
Of course. A big strapping Greek god drank beer.
He grabbed two bottles from his fridge. Harris had settled himself on the living room couch, practically taking up the space meant to seat two. Handing Harris his beer, he took a sip of his.
Alcohol seemed like a bad idea.
“You were grading papers,” Harris said, nodding to the papers scattered on the coffee table.
“I don’t mind the distraction.”
Good Lord. Was Nick actually flirting? In all his three decades in this world, Nick always had trouble holding on to a relationship. The men he dated always seemed to find faults they didn’t like.
Nick wanted to be in for the long haul, but all his ex-boyfriends had other plans. He’d long ago accepted he was mediocre, boring. Which was why Harris’s interest puzzled him.
“What are you thinking about?” Harris asked. Nick was second-guessing everything, but the werewolf looked completely relaxed, slumped against his sofa, sipping his beer.
Harris made quite the perfect picture. Like this, Nick could see the perfect V of Harris’s torso, see glimpses of Harris’s tanned stomach and lower abs. There was more ink there. His gaze lingered on the dusty trail of dark hair that disappeared down Harris’s jeans.
Nick knew Harris asked him a question, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what. His own erection was evident and he turned to the side, pretending to look nonchalant.
“You’re looking at me like you want to ride me, teach,” Harris drawled in that deep cocky voice of his that melted his insides like Jell-o.
“You’re right. Maybe this was a bad idea,” Harris mumbled, about to turn away, but Nick surprised both of them by grabbing his shoulder.
“What the hell? You tease me like that and you’re retreating?” he demanded.
“Fuck, Prof. When you’re riled up, it only makes my dick hard.”
His anger simmered.
Did this shifter make it his life’s mission to make him blush? “Don’t be crass.”
“That’s just how I am. Besides, that’s the tip of the iceberg. If I told you all the filthy things I want to do to that sexy body of yours, you’d run.” Harris shrugged. “I was raised by three brothers in a bar, what did you expect?”
“I didn’t know that.” Nick closed his hands over Harris’s left rock hard bicep. “Kiss me.”
The command came out reckless, full of need. Harris turned, banded one arm over his waist to pull him close.
“Let’s do this right, especially if one kiss is all I’m getting,” Harris said.
Harris was wrong. The chemistry between them was off the charts. One kiss wouldn’t cut it. This felt like being in a car with no brakes, but he didn’t care. They already wasted so much time procrastinating. Nick deserved a shot at happiness, at love, too. Was the right man Harris? He didn’t know yet, but he wanted to try.
Besides, he wanted to hear that word from Harris again.
Mine. Harris said it like he already owned Nick, body and heart.
Nick squeaked as their bodies—chests and groins—touched. He suddenly hated these clothes that got in the way of skin touching.
Harris clasped the back of his neck, slanted his lips for a kiss. No, this couldn’t be called that. Harris plundered his mouth, all roughness and bite. He melted under the demanding press of Harris’s mouth. Harris rammed heat down his throat, tasting like mint, pine, and something else.
Harris nipped and sucked on his bottom lip. A moan slipped from him. When Harris prodded his tongue against his teeth, he opened up so Harris could push it down his throat. He sucked down, moving his hands up and down Harris’s body.
Nick felt hard planes of muscle. He slipped his fingers under the hem of Harris’s shirt, stroking Harris’s lower abs. When Harris pulled away, Nick swore he could see Harris’s fearsome beast lurking behind those blazing eyes.
“More,” he uttered, moaning when Harris squeezed his dick through the fabric of his jeans.
“I smell your need.” Harris growled the words out.
Never in Nick’s wildest imagination did he envision Harris dropping to his knees and yanking his jeans down with such force the button flew.
“Oh,” he murmured, tongue-tied at the sight of the powerful werewolf kneeling. His jeans and boxers fell to his ankles. Harris looked at his dick like it was edible.
“I want a taste.” Harris didn’t phrase it like a question.
The werewolf cupped his left ass cheek with one hand, gave it a squeeze, then leaned forward. Harris lashed his tongue at the pre-cum on his tip, spread it over his length like a lubricant. Every nerve in his body lit up. With each lick, Harris sent electric pulses to his groin.
“Hell.” Needing something to hold on to, Nick wove fingers into Harris’s hair. The werewolf didn’t seem to mind. Harris took his time, exploring every ridge and bump. Not neglecting his balls, Harris sucked them into his mouth.
Nick groaned at the sensation.
“You feel amazing,” he pointed out.
Harris paused, chuckling. “We’re just starting.”
Then Harris wrapped his sinful lips over his shaft and began to take Nick, inch-by-inch. Harris might be the one giving him a blow job, but Harris was undoubtedly in control. Once his tip hit the back of Harris’s throat, Harris pulled back. Harris moved his hand from his ass to find his puckered entrance. Nick buckled when Harris began to rub at his hole.
Harris easily built the pressure in him. Just when he was certain he would shoot, Harris tugged his mouth from his shaft. Nick let out a frustrated groan.
Harris rose to his feet, gave his heavy cock a squeeze. “Not yet. You’re not coming without my permission.”
“Are you serious?”
“If I break that rule?” Nick dared ask.
“You’re going to get punished.”
“A-are you into kink?”
“My handprints all over that firm ass of yours would look fucking amazing.” Harris leaned close to his ear. “Or I can blow your prick over and over, make you orgasm, until you’re begging me to stop.”
“What kind of punishment is that?” Jesus. He knew sex with Harris would be a rollercoaster ride, but this? Nick barely recognized himself. He liked this new him, eager to try, to experience new things.
“Do we understand each other?”
“Yes,” Nick answered.
“Good. It’s time I sink my dick into that tempting hole of yours.”
“I want that.”
“What’s that, Prof? You want my cock buried deep in you?”
The image rose in his head, unbidden, erotic. “That’s what I mean.”
Harris let out a sexy laugh that melted his bones. “Take off your clothes.”
He stepped out of his jeans and pulled off his shirt. Nick was usually self-conscious of his body. If he knew it was going to come to this, he would have eaten less carbs. However, Harris licked at his lips like a predator eying his prey.
Why did Harris look at him like he was some kind of catch, like he was the most desirable man in the world?
Harris pulled him to the couch and sat down. “You want me? Come get me.”
Harris patted his lap. Feeling bold, drunk even though he’d only had a sip, he straddled Harris’s lap.
“I’ve never done anything like this,” he whispered, grabbing the hem of Harris’s shirt.
“Then tonight would be the first of many,” Harris replied, the words tugging at his heart strings.