Page 3 of Devil's Kiss
He laughed to himself as the water slicked down over him, still unable to believe thathewas going to be in charge of educating future generations. He’d decided that the dean could quite possibly be mad for giving him such a position of authority, but he knew that wasn’t the case.
He was brilliant; there were no two ways around it. A certified genius according to his IQ and the bachelor’s degree he’d received at the ripe old age of fourteen before going on to complete his PhD by his twenty-first birthday. And on top of those two facts was the recommendation from one of the university’s most beloved professors. The woman whose job he would be taking over—Professor Anne Hamilton. God rest her soul.
When he’d been nothing more than a smartass kid getting in too much trouble for his own good, his mother and father had pulled him from school on the recommendation of his teachers, who said that his test scores may require he have “special” schooling. Soon after, they’d hired several tutors to home-school him.
As money wasn’t ever an issue in the Devaney household, his parents threw the best minds in the business at him, and when he showed a special interest in history they hired on the brightest, and toughest, teacher in the nation.
Professor Hamilton. The woman who’d recently recommendedhim, of all people, to take her place when she found out she was going to need her energy to fight a new crusade: her ailing health.
He still couldn’t believe it. He had more money than he knew what to do with and he’d always assumed he’d travel to far-off and exotic places to take part in exciting archaeological digs, not be stuck in some stuffy room teaching uninterested teens about ruins from a slide show collection. But around six months ago she’d asked him a question he hadn’t been able to answer.
“Are you satisfied with your life, Jordan? You have so much, and everything has always come so easy to you. But is your mind challenged? Or do you want more? Don’t you want to make a difference?”
He’d taken a long look at his life the night after that conversation and the answer had been simple—no, he wasn’t challenged. He’d become bored with his privileged lifestyle, and yes, he wanted to make a difference. He still remembered what she’d said to him moments before she’d passed.
“You were my biggest challenge,ProfessorJordan Devaney. Now, go and find what makes you work the hardest, and dare yourself to make a difference.”
That had been a couple of weeks ago.
So there he was—he,Jordan Devaney, was going to endeavor to be…responsible.
Her final words still lingered as he stood there under the shower getting ready for whatever life was going to “challenge” him with. He tipped his head back and let the water sluice over his face as he thought about the day ahead.
Three classes before noon and one after. If he managed to get through those in one piece, maybe he could track down that gorgeous Professor Hayes he’d met on his campus tour and see if he would be interested in dinner.
As a friend,of course,he told himself. Even he wasn’t stupid enough to pursue that. Sex in the workplace was just too messy. Not that he’d know, since he’d never taken a job before, but that was what he’d heard.
With a sigh, he turned off the water and snagged one of the fluffy white towels hanging over the pewter hook on the wall. He rubbed it over his hair then toweled off his body before he headed to his walk-in closet to get ready for the day.
The wooden floors were the perfect temperature under his feet as he threw the towel over an armchair and perused the pants hanging in front of him. As he evaluated his choices, he groaned.
Ugh,dressing for school was going to besoboring. He much preferred dressing for fun. Maybe when he did finally speak to Hayes he could ask if he had any tips for him that didn’t include sweaters. Because really, who wore sweaters in Florida? Then a brilliant idea struck him. He didn’t have to dress boringly, just…appropriately. So why not have a little fun with his students on his first day? Go for the shock factor. His age would already be a topic of discussion, so why not add a little outlandish attire to go with?
He reached for the brightest pair of pants he owned and smiled as he tossed them over the top of his back-to-back chest of drawers in the center of the closet. He then slipped into a pair of tight black briefs before searching the opposite rack of hangers for a shirt.Hmm.Heglanced back at the pants.What color, what color… Oh! Yes, perfect.
Settling on a vibrant button-down, he finished getting dressed, slipped his feet into some loafers, and went back to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish styling his hair. It wasn’t until he walked back into his bedroom that he spotted the long line of a muscular leg sticking out from under his navy sheets.
Oh, shit.Caught up in his head about his first day of being an adult, Jordan had completely forgotten he’d left a man in his bed. One who was still there.Awkward.
Not possessing one iota of shame, he walked to the double sliding doors that led to his balcony and tugged open the curtains. As the morning sun pierced through the glass and right into the sleeping man’s eyes, Jordan stopped by the edge of the bed and flung back the sheet, revealing one verynakedman.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he singsonged.
As the mountain of muscle started to shift, Jordan took a moment to admire the play of skin over that firm ass and toned back. The man had such a different physique to his own, one that he had really,reallygotten off on having under him the night before.
Yes, what a shocker—he liked to top.
“Oh, sorry, man. I didn’t realize the time.”
“Not a problem, big guy. But alas, our night together is over. I have to go and earn a living, andyouneed to exit the building.”
Rob…Rod,or shit, whatever his name is, sat up and swung his legs over the bed, and when his giant feet hit the floor and he stood, Jordan grabbed his jeans and held them out to him.
The guy was massive. He had him by at least three inches and fifty pounds, but hell if that hadn’t made it more exciting when he’d been begging for Jordan to give it to him harder, harder…Shit. Focus.He’s leaving.“Seriously, hon, you need to get dressed and skedaddle,” Jordan said with a waggle of his fingers toward the bedroom door. “Or I’m going to be late.”
Rod—yes,I’m positive it’s Rod—pulled on his jeans and buttoned them as he gave a shy smile that was at odds with his pierced nipples and shaved head. “Can I call you?”
And there was the rub. The problem he’d always had with letting someone wake up beside him: they never just…left. Jordan opened his mouth to say something along the lines ofprobably not, but he was saved from having to break the poor guy’s heart because his phone started an incessant ring throughout his condo.