Wulfgang closed the front door behind him and followed his professor to the bath. Forest flicked on a light, illuminating slate tile floors and a gorgeous granite-topped vanity.

“There. Sit on the edge of the tub,” Forest said, rummaging around in the cabinet above the sink.

“This isn’t a tub. It’s a freaking pool,” Wulfgang said, perching on smooth tile. “How the hell can you afford this?” He smoothed a hand over the edge of the tub. “You’re a teacher. Last I checked, you guys make enough to buy one cup of coffee maybe every other week and that’s about it.”

“I have my ways,” Mr. Sexy Professor said, dropping to his knees in front of Wulfgang.

Holy shit. Wulfgang caught his breath. Forest had popped out his blue contacts while he’d been gawking at all the tile and intense hazel eyes looked up at him. “Your eyes…” He trailed off as that sense of familiarity that had been dogging him for the past two weeks punched him in the gut. “Christ, you look familiar.” His cock pressed against the front of his jeans painfully. He wanted to grab the professor and mess him up until they were both desperate and dirty and very fucking satisfied. He clenched his hands into fists so he wouldn’t do something stupid.

Forest snorted. “They itch after wearing them all day, and since you already know they’re fake…” He shrugged. “Now hold still. This might hurt a little.” He reached up with a wet cotton ball.

Wulfgang leaned back. “What the fuck is that?”

“Peroxide. Don’t be a baby, Wulfgang.”

The professor reached out again, and this time Wulfgang let him get close. He hissed at the sting. “Ow.”

Forest pressed harder.

“Wow, you’re actually kind of mean,” Wulfgang said. Somehow, the pain in his temple didn’t help dispel his erection one bit. Probably because you have the sexiest man you’ve ever seen on his knees between your legs. He wished he could reach down and adjust himself, but that would definitely give his body’s condition away. As it was, he could still pretend that Sexy Professor had no idea how badly Wulfgang wanted him.

“My brother and cousins would agree with you. I have no mercy for the weak.” Forest blotted with the cotton, then ripped open two bandages. “Hold still.”

“I’m already holding still.” Wulfgang’s mouth had gone dry. He gripped the side of the tub surround like it would keep him from falling. Forest was close enough that the warmth of his body felt like a whisper against his skin. “Fuck, it’s hot in here,” he whispered.

Forest smoothed the bandages down over Wulfgang’s face. His fingers lingered just a tad longer than they needed to. “No, it’s not. Not with the air conditioner on.” He touched a thumb to Wulfgang’s lips. “You’re hot,” he said softly.

Hell. I want him bad. Wulfgang blinked as his mouth tingled. “What?”

Forest sat back on his haunches. “You can’t tell when a guy is making a pass at you?”

Wulfgang’s nostrils flared. Forest smelled like, well, a fucking forest. He smelled like home. “Why do you smell like pine trees?” He frowned. “And electricity?”

“Damn, you have no clue,” the professor said, and then he leaned up and kissed Wulfgang full on the mouth.

Wulfgang flailed for a moment. Then he sank his hands into Forest’s hair and held on. Mr. Sexy Professor knew exactly what he was doing. He kissed like a soldier on a mission: deep, hard, and intent on reaching his goal, which in this case felt like he was trying to drive Wulfgang over the edge in three point two seconds. Wulfgang shuddered and kissed him back, licking inside the man’s mouth. His head still hurt, but the pain paled in comparison to the inferno raging inside his body. He fisted one hand in Forest’s hair, then used the other to drag him closer. When the professor’s chest collided with Wulfgang’s cock, both men groaned.

“You taste like berries,” Forest gasped.

Wulfgang bit the man’s lip, inexplicably angry. And really turned on. “You’re no fucking professor, are you?”

Forest laughed. “Hmm, not quite.” He slid his hands up over Wulfgang’s thighs and pushed his thumbs into the crease where his legs met his torso.

Wulfgang’s dick jumped, wanting those clever fingers closer.

“My name isn’t Forest, either.”

Christ. Wulfgang grabbed the front of the ugly, oversized t-shirt cloaking Forest like a freaking burqa and yanked it off. Forest didn’t protest. When he was bare, Wulfgang’s gaze landed on the huge tree tattoo decorating the man’s right arm and shoulder. It lay on thick muscles like a damned signpost, mercilessly poking at Wulfgang’s memory. “Fuck. Who the hell are you?” He slapped a hand over the tattoo, then squeezed, relishing the solid reality of the man in front of him. Something wild surged through him. He wanted to bite this guy, this liar who kneeled in front of him and had the balls to drag him home and try to fix him. He bared his teeth.

Instead of running, like any sensible person would do, the professor snarled back at him and tipped his head slightly to the side. “Come on. Do it. I know you want to.”