Page 8 of Devil's Kiss

Aww hell.He’d hoped Devaney would let him go, considering he was having a hard time looking at the guy.Hard being the operative fucking word.But it seemed he wasn’t about to get off that easy.

Finn looked over his shoulder with his brow raised in awant me to stay?expression, but Derek gave a shake of his head. It was going to be difficult enough to hear whatever his professor wanted to say to him without having Finn sitting in the peanut gallery watching. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“You sure?”

He nodded and watched Finn push through the door. Derek pivoted around to find his professor now standing in front of the lectern.

“Derek. If you think you can manage to stay awake for five more minutes, I’d like to talk to you.”

Fuck, this is gonna be awkward as hell,he thought, as he let his bag slide down his arm so he could hold it in front of his idiotic cock. Was it serious right now? Damn thing had a mind of its own. This guy was likely about to hand him his ass on a platter, and here he was getting a goddamn erection.

“I think I can manage.”

“I’m so delighted to hear it,” Devaney said as he gestured to a seat in the front of the room. “Won’t you take a seat?”

Jesus, couldn’t they just get this over with and move on?

“Don’t see why not.”

With way more attitude than he’d usually adopt, Derek walked over to one of the seats and decided there was no way he was going to be able to conceal what was going on between his legs much longer, and instead dropped his bag by his feet and sat down, deciding,screw it,he couldn’t control who his dick liked. He wasn’t the one standing there demanding a private showing. Although…he didn’t hate the idea of Devaney giving him a real live strip show.

Derek allowed his eyes to travel up the man’s legs and torso before studying the face looking down at him. When he’d first seen Devaney he’d thought he was the TA, and that was for good reason—he was young. If Derek had to guess, maybe mid-twenties? He was fucking hot, too. Not overly tall, he stood at maybe five ten or eleven at best, and he had sharp, angular cheekbones, and a sculpted jaw that came to a haughty point at his arrogant chin.

“You know, Derek. I don’t have too much practice doing this, but I’m always the first to admit when I’m wrong. And I want to apologize to you for earlier.”

Oh…wow.Unsure of what was expected of him, Derek sat there silently. He really hadn’t been expecting that.When it became obvious he had nothing to say, Devaney slid his hands into the pockets of his skintight pants, and that had Derek’s eyes drifting to them.

Damn, they were tight. So tight he wondered how the professor had gotten into them that morning. Did he lie on his bed and wiggle his ass into that stiff fabric? Or did he bend at the waist and pull them up?—

“Derek? Did you hear me?”

GOD SAVEME from men like this.That was all Jordan could think as he waited for a response from the unreadable Derek Pearson. The guy had his shield firmly back in place, and though Jordan knew why the glasses were now there, he wanted to demand that Derek take the blasted things off so he could see where he was looking.

He had a feeling it was directly at him. Or maybe his package, considering how nicely wrapped and in Derek’s face it was right that second. But hell, it wasn’t his fault the guy was eye level with his cock now that he was seated. Itwashis fault, however, that the thought of unzipping and really giving him something to stare at briefly,ever so briefly, flashed through his mind.

Jordan shoved that aside, though, figuring he’d screwed up with this student enough for one day. Instead, he patiently waited for a response to his apology. Well, he tried to wait patiently, but it wasn’t exactly his strong suit. “Derek. Focus. Are you okay?”

Derek raised his chin, and though Jordan couldn’t see his eyes, he knew that they were now focused on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s no biggie. I’ve had worse.”

As Derek’s answer registered with him, all other thoughts Jordan was having vanished. Those words did not sit well with him at all. They gave the impression that whoever had done the damage to his face was someone Derek knew, not just a random fight, and that was disturbing.

Jordan wanted to ask more. He had an unexplainable need to know who had hurt this man who seemed larger than life…indestructible. He racked his brain trying to come up with an excuse to dig for details, but nothing was coming. He couldn’t just demand answers. Derek didn’t know him from Adam, or likely trust him. So maybe his best course of action would be to extend an olive branch. He needed to somehow reach Derek Pearson and let him know that he was there. That he would listen—even if he seemed the most unlikely choice of a confidant at that precise moment.

After walking over to where Derek was seated, Jordan took the spot beside him, thinking it might be easier if he didn’t have to look at him. Swallowing back his pride, Jordan said, “I really shouldn’t have focused in on you this morning, and I’m?—”

“Then why did you?”

Huh…?Jordan almost said aloud, tripping over his own words. But luckily he caught himself at the last minute. “Excuse me?” he asked instead.

Derek readjusted his posture and turned his large frame in Jordan’s direction. That was when he realized what a monumentally bad idea it had been to sit down next to Derek.

Derek’s size and pissy attitude was like a bright neon warning sign flashing:Danger. Danger.And it was like a rush of blood to his head, and not the one on his shoulders.

“Whydidyou single me out?” Derek asked again.

Damn. The guy lacks subtlety, that’s for sure.