chapter 7

Thomas's POV: (Bonus Chapter!)

Gosh!

What is it about whiskey from a bar that tastes so much better? 

I let the amber liquid quench these feelings in my stomach. I ran out at home and this was the closest place in walking distance. 

Is this my fourth glass now or fifth? I forget. Either way, I welcome it with open arms. 

I stare down at my glass as I slosh it back and forth. Am I drinking because she's not home tonight? Or am I drinking because I realize just how sad my life is? 

Thirty-One, never married and living in a new town all by myself. When I took this job I figured it would be the ultimate step towards building a life I could be proud of. 

So far all I've managed to do is develop an unhealthy addiction to someone online who could be a forty-year-old man for all I know and manage to convince every damn student at this school to try to sleep with me. 

It's exhausting, and ironically the only one that could even stand a chance if they tried doesn't seem to be the least bit interested in 

"You know I think it was Ralph Waldo Emerson who said "as a cure for worrying, work is better than whiskey," 

My head shoots up from where I'd been staring, to instantly come face to face with the most intense green stare I've ever seen. 

"Sophia." 

Her name almost hurts to say and I'm left speechless. This is why she‘s the only student in this privileged town I'd even consider... 

What are you thinking, Thomas? Get your thoughts together, she's off limits for a thousand and one reasons and you're drunk. 

Not a good combination. 

As if her looks weren't already deadly enough, she also shares my passions. 

I realize after silently berating myself, I need to think of something to say in return but it's so hard to think properly when she's looking at me like that. Her presence is so familiar somehow. 

"Yes, well normally I'd love to throw myself into my work, but since it hasn't quite begun yet whiskey Will have to do." I finished with a grin. 

At my words, I watch as Sophia relaxes slightly and starts to smile. Is this friendly banter or is she trying to pick me up? She's so unbelievably smart and beautiful I don't know why in hell she would ever even try. 

"I assume you've got the curriculum all planned for next semester then? I‘m looking forward to it, Professor." She says and I feel my jaw lock. Professor. The sound of her saying it is almost erotic, the way it rolled slowly off of her tongue. 

"So you'll be taking one of my classes again this semester? I'm very..." My eyes travel down and instantly I'm punished by an unfair sight. 

Whoever sold her this kind of dress can go to hell. It's like a second layer of skin that hugs her feminine body at every nook and cranny. She's much taller than usual and I notice that's thanks to a pair of strappy heels that criss-cross around her ankles. 

I realize a moment too late that I‘ve been eyeing her like she's my last meal and I feel like I've just been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. 

"Pleased to hear that." I finish, my words mimicking my feelings. 

Pleased. 

I try to keep my gaze tamed on her eyes but even as I do I can feel an animalistic hunger building in my stomach. How long has it been since I've been with a woman? I don't even want to think about that. 

"I would never miss an opportunity to learn from you Professor, you just make everything so much easier to understand than say, Professor Galahad or Marsh." She calls me professor again and it makes my whole body tense. 

I know it has to be the liquor talking but I just have to hear that pretty little mouth say my name. 

"Your words mean a lot to me but please, Sophia. At least until Monday call me Thomas." We make eye contact again but I notice her stature change to deep concern. I haven't seen anyone look at me like that in a long time. 

"Sorry if I'm overstepping my bounds, but whats got you drinking whiskey alone in a bar on a Friday night... Thomas?" I relish for a moment in the way her soft voice says my name. I can feel my guard starting to slip. I almost want to tell her. Confide in her about every single thing I can think of. 

Whiskey is poison, and I'm slowly being consumed by it. 

Finally, I decide I can't do that. She's my student and that's all she will ever be. 

"I suppose I've just got no one to drink with," I say as a quick excuse. I'm about to get up and remove myself from 

this dangerous situation when I hear something that knocks me off of my guard. 

"This is my favorite song," Sophia says very suddenly. "What was that?" I ask in return. "This is my favorite song, and you seem to be free so... dance with me. Please?" She replies, offering me her small hand. 

I know I shouldn't. It's the worst idea imaginable. The smoke filled room covers self-control in a haze and alcohol breeds bad decisions. I should pay my tab and go home, but she looks so hopeful that it stops me. 

I reach out and grab her delicate hand and I'm instantly filled with a jarring warmth. I stand, not releasing her hand. 

"I suppose one dance couldn't hurt," I convince myself that sentence is true and let Sophia lead me onto the dance floor. 

By the time she finds a place to stop and turn around that warmth has morphed into a ravenous burn. The anticipation of feeling her threatening to stop my heart. 

Sophia reaches up and touches my chest and I feel my breath become ragged. How can something so simple cause such a huge reaction? 

I'm going to stop thinking. It's tearing me apart. For the next four minutes, I'm just going to let this be. 

I just wish Sophia would do the same. 

I grab her hip and squeezeit, I oving the feeling of her body under my grasp. My other hand comes up and grabs the back of her neck, pulling her as tight as I dare without hurting her. I lean my head down to her hear and whisper. 

"Calm down, Sophia, it's just a dance," 

At my words, her hand clamps shut on my shirt and she places a timid hand on my waist. She's so innocent and beautiful, it's not fucking fair. 

I sway my hips and she follows. I pull us apart just enough to look down at her. 

I desperately want to see the look on her face. As soon as I see it it's as if I'm under a spell. Her eyes scream please don’t stop and I don't want to. I want so much more than this dance. I need it. 

I break our lusting stare to spin her and once she's come back around I grab her backside lower, daring to touch her curves. 

I search her face for any trace of reluctance but there is none. My hand slides further down, feeling the full scope of her tight round ass. The sensation causes me to stop moving and shortly afterward the song ends. 

I can't seem to will my eyes away from my dance partner. Everything she does makes my blood rush from my head to my masculine core. 

Walk away 

The little voice in my head keeps screaming but I can't comply. All control of my judgment has gone out the door with my last glass of whiskey. 

After being frozen in time for several seconds I feel myself leaning in involuntarily. My body does it all on its own and to my surprise I see Sophia moving towards me as well. 

I run a stand up to her hair and get lost in the silky strands. 

We're so close I can smell the subtle alcohol on her breath and it causes me to jolt back just for a moment. Does she actually want this or is she too drunk to know? 

Her longing stare answers for me and seconds later I'm leaning back in. My hands tighten and a wave of lust hits me hard as I grip her backside roughly and pull with undisputed control on her hair. 

I can't help myself, I crash my mouth onto hers and groan as soon as I taste her sweet tongue on mine. 

I deepen the kiss even further, every nerve in my body firing. I feel my pants growing tighter and am desperate for relief. 

Screw her. 

My body pleads but my mind comes to a screeching halt. I can't. Oh gosh, what about Lane? And my job? 

I push Sophia and me apart as fast as I can, my chest rising and falling in instant regret. 

"Punch me, what have I done?"