Page 23 of Campus Daddies
Shaking her head, she meets my gaze again with a small confidence that comes from being ready to face the unknown, the joy of discovery during a creative endeavor.
“Good. I have faith in your abilities.”
That makes her glow again.
Oh, the things I could praise you for, Sofia.
“If you have a minute before you go, I came across some ads I think you’d enjoy breaking down.” Another not so subtle ploy to keep her closed up in this office with me. I nod for her to come around my desk to share my computer screen with her.
At my side, her sweet perfume has the undercurrent of something spicier. I pull up a series of ads, and gradually, her palm finds the corner of my desk, invading my space. Her warmth has a gravitational pull.
I have to lean back, cross my arms, occupy my hands with small movements to keep from reaching out to touch her.
And she’s pressing on my geek button oh, so sweetly. “So, the message of this one is that Old Spice will make you a champion on the field and in bed.”
The purse of her lips hides the smile I see shining in her baby blues.
“Essentially, yes. The humor is almost a disclaimer. It’s obviously ridiculous to think hygienic products could make one a champion, but it does have a secondary message of what confidence can do for one’s personal and professional life.”
She’s probably already thought of that, too, but she lets me be the one to say it. Instead, she adds, “Besides that people don’t like to be around others who smell like B.O.”
I finally crack, laughing at how good she is at this. How easily it comes. Not many get to see this side of me, and it’s a lightning strike to my sense of self.
What I felt the last time we met has been amplified threefold. Fuck, this is the exact kind of thing I’ve always been looking for.
Even if I’ll have to wait to pursue it.
Even if the image of her hands on my knees as she drops between them… Those blue eyes peering up at him from between her lashes… Bright pink mouth parted and waiting for my cock…
My desire nearly breaks me, but as I come back to her watching the next ad, that image plagues me.
11
SOFIA
Oh. My. God. I have to be ovulating or something with the way men have been reacting to me lately.
Or the way I’ve been reacting to them.
Usually, I’d say my hormones were fogging up my perception, but now, I have the option to play things back. And going back through the footage feels voyeuristic.
It makes me feel a bit more validated that when I left Professor Trevino’s office the other day with an absolute mess puddled in my panties from the tension between us, or the tingles I got from when Braxton tucked my son in the backseat of my dad’s car…
What would have happened if Dad hadn’t been there? If he weren’t Dad’s best friend? Or if Trevino weren’t my advisor? If I had the freedom to take something, would they let me?
But why do the men I seem to be responding to all haveOff-Limitsbranded on them? Why does that make me want them all the more?
Sighing, I rub at my eyes with the butts of my palms. With the glasses, the camera catches more than I do. And it’s cringey towatch myself blunder, to assume one thing about a person and be shown other nuances that I missed the first time.
Like when Professor Trevino called me out on why I didn’t include more about Professor Knight in my rough edit. Sure, I didn’t like it. He is annoying, but Trevino caught the same thing I’d been trying to downplay, like how intently Knight watched me at the café.
And what it means that he keeps trying to get me to call him Orion. Which is not happening. I need that barrier in place even if it seems to drive him crazy, push him harder to find a way to connect with me.
I can’t apologize for not being one of his fan girlies who fawns all over him. That’s not me.
Yet, Braxton, which is what I’ve always called him, has also mentioned that I can call him Brax. Like my taking care of his daughter means we’re on more even footing.
Maybe we are.
