After speaking with Ellie, I'm all sorts of irritated but mostly hurt. Because she claims we are no longer family. She's all I have, and despite her words, I want her to be okay. I want her to be happy. It doesn't matter that she told me to leave the situation alone.
Stay out of the way, she had said.
But I refuse. She's in trouble, and somehow, I will help her out of it.
As I hurry down the aisle, a book flaps rigorously in my face. I read the title. It is The Seven Gems of the Archangels. Unfortunately, it flies out of sight before it registers what I've read and that the book might be helpful. My body responds to the surprise attack too late, and I wave my hands in front of my face like I'm shooing an extra-large mosquito or a creepy bat.
"Get away from me," I shout, even though the book is gone.
The lady at the counter glares like I've just broken cardinal rule number one. "Quiet, Miss Mira."
"Sorry, but that book attacked me." I point in the direction the book went, knowing there is no evidence proving my claim. Mortification heats my cheeks.
The librarian gives me an unreadable look, but I'm guessing she doesn't buy my excuse.
"Sorry," I whisper again and hurry out of the library. As I go, I hear snickering from the other students, but I ignore them.
I heave a deep breath outside the library to calm my nerves and wait for the door to close. Then follow the hall back to the stairs and make my way up to the main floor. As I go, I decide I'm done with the Nephilim Academy. No more stupid classes or fucking angel studies. I don't care that I'm somehow an angel. All I care about is helping Ellie.
To do that, I must steal the gem and give it to her. I can sacrifice what I want if that means Ellie and me can be a family again. Then whatever trouble she's gotten herself into will be fixed, and we can go back to living our lives outside the wall and away from all these damn angels.
Fileze may be a total sleaze, but he taught me well how to steal. And I've stolen a lot of shit over the years. The only reason I failed stealing the gem the first time is because that's what Fileze wanted. Had I known what I was walking into, I would've handled things differently. I won't make the same mistake twice.
If I were a CeleStone, where would I be? I think, turning in a circle. Then remember Jesse had been carrying the box and said he was putting it… somewhere. Disregarding my embarrassment, I walk back into the library and up to the woman.
"Forget something, Mira?" she asks, blinking several times.
"Jesse, I mean Professor Jesse. He was going to put that box someplace inside the library. Is there a vault in here?" I work to sound casual but fail.
"That is none of your concern. Good night," she says and returns to her work.
I head back out of the library and take the steps two at a time. The librarian's non-answer is an answer, but how will I break in?
"Mira!"
Speak of the damn devil. I work to steady my nerves and face Jesse. "Hi... sir." I glance around the common area, hoping no one can tell the dirty thoughts running through my mind about the professor.
"Follow me," he barks and heads down another hallway. "Now," he hollers louder.
I yelp at the cut in his voice and hurry after him. The man is hot from the front and the back: all hard lines, a trim waist, and solid muscles.
"Oooh, she's in trouble," someone says.
Probably, but what kind of trouble, I think.
At the end of the hall and on the right is a door. Jesse opens it and heads inside, waiting until I'm inside as well. At his closeness, I catch the scent of him. A hint of pineapple and bergamot. It's a wonder the scents don't clash. He smells mouthwatering. Not only that, but he's so gorgeous, it almost hurts.
"What's wrong?" I ask, working to keep the distress out of my voice as I advance deeper into the room. The office isn't very big and reminds me of what I imagine a college professor's workplace should look like. There are papers and books and more than one laptop as well as a computer on his desk. The black leather chair obviously belongs to him, while two nearly as comfy-looking chairs huddle near the desk on the opposite side. Bookshelves and cabinets are interspersed along the walls, except where there's a window and another door. It's closed, and I can't help but wonder what's behind it.
Jesse's eyes capture mine as he closes the door. Locks it with a click.
I swear my heart is going to come out of my chest. My knees tremble as he moves in close, walking me backward until I'm against the wall and between two cabinets.
"Did you need something?" I whisper, questioning.
His features are almost feral, and the way he's looking at me makes me hot for him.
"Let's get rid of this," he says, tugging my backpack.
I shrug out of it and toss it to the floor. Desire blooms between my thighs, and my stomach clenches. Jesse wants me, and I want him too. More than anything else in the world.
Without a word, his knee pushes between my legs. He drags a hand up my bare thigh, under my plaid skirt, until his fingers find the edge of my underwear.
"How was the library?" he asks, his lips brushing lightly against mine.
"Fine," I murmur, barely able to get the word out. I close my eyes, hyper-aware of his fingers playing with the white lace, pushing the material to one side as his fingers find their way to my most sensitive spot.
"Did you talk to your friend?" Jesse asks, his lips grazing down my chin and along my jaw.
"Hm-mm," I respond, grabbing hold of his shirt and twisting the material in my fists.
"Why is she here?" he asks.
Through the lusty haze, a question mark forms in my mind. But before I can develop a coherent thought, he pushes his finger into my wet well.
I let out a moan, unable to help myself. He covers my mouth with his and tangles his tongue with mine.
I let out a hearty whimper, tugging at his shoulders as our tongues mesh passionately. Then I wrap one leg around his hip to allow him easier access as I ride his finger.
He slows his delicious assault between my thighs as well as my mouth. Both feel bruised in the best possible way. His glorious sunrise eyes, which are vivid blue with a yellow ring, dance with his own need, and I can feel his hardness against my stomach.
"I have questions too, you know," I say, breathless. I don't want to talk, but this might be my only chance. "What did you do with the gem?" I ask, working to unbutton his pants. I want to see him. Feel him.
He gives me a lopsided grin. "Why?" he asks, massaging my clit as he continues to fuck me with his finger.
My body responds greedily as my climax builds.
"I just... want... to know," I get out, pushing his pants and underwear off, freeing his hardened length.
"The gem is safe," he says. "Now, come for me, Mira," he says, stroking me senseless.
I take his cock in one hand and stroke him, using his precum to get him slick. My orgasm is building, and I'm desperate to take his cock inside me. "I will if you will," I say against his mouth, touching him to my opening.
Our tongues meet and twine as he tears my underwear away like it's nothing and lifts the leg I wrapped around his hip higher. Then in one swift movement, he thrusts deep inside.
We stop kissing, our eyes locked on each other as if to question whether this is really happening. I can't believe it, and it's obvious he can't either.
"You sure about this?" I ask, hoping he doesn't change his mind.
"Fuck yes, Mira." He slowly pulls out before burying his cock inside.
"That feels so good," I say, grabbing hold of his ass, feeling his muscles flex as we find a rhythm. My body throbs with heat and need. The wetness between my legs grows as my pleasure builds. I want to cry out, but we are still in the Academy, and someone might hear.
"Mirabelle," he says, his voice low and sensual. "Come for me," he huffs, his mouth on mine. "I want to feel your orgasm against my cock."
Under normal circumstances, I'd scold him for using my full name, but just now, it sounds sexy. Our tempo becomes frantic as we pull and grab and are lost in each other. Along with my building climax, something else forms in my chest. A pleasant heat spreads throughout my body as my core tightens.
I open my eyes, surprised by the sensation, and see Jesse is watching me, his eyes dark with want. "What's happening?" I whisper, wondering if he feels it too.
He groans, biting his lower lip and lifting both of my legs, so he has easier access.
"Holy fuck. Do you feel it?" My climax reaches its peak, and I shudder in ecstasy, my thighs unsteady as my insides shatter into a thousand pieces around his cock. I cling to him, riding out my orgasm.
"Yes," he begins. "It's—"
Before he can continue, a knock sounds at the door.
"Jesse," the female voice calls.
Jesse and I freeze but only for a moment. Because he needs his release and I want to give it to him.
The person behind the voice jiggles the handle.
Thank the stars above that Jesse locked the door.
Eyes fastened on each other, we move again, our pace hastening as he holds me against the wall.
"I want to come inside you, Mirabelle."
"Fuck me, Jesse. Fuck me hard," I respond, not even caring that he isn't wearing a condom.
"I know you're in there," the voice says, this time more insistent. It's familiar in a weird way, but I can't place it.
I want to tell her to go the hell away, but another orgasm is building, and I'm focused on that.
"I'm busy," Jesse says, his voice husky and so damn sexy. "Come back later."
That's the understatement of the year, I think. But there's something about the idea of getting caught that urges us on. The thrill is electrifying, and I feel bold.
"Come for me, Jess," I whisper, repeating his words back to him as I hold on to his shoulders.
"It would be my pleasure," he says with a one-sided smirk before he slams into me with a final thrust.
I gasp at the sensation, and we climax together.
Sweat beads along his upper lip and at his hairline, so the ends of his blond hair curl in the most appealing way. We are breathing heavily, his forehead resting against mine.
He leans in and kisses me, and I suckle his bottom lip. It's as heavenly as I thought it would be.
Jesse growls low and soft and puts his mouth next to my ear. "You're so fucking hot," he whispers.
I shiver at his words as reality sets in. My professor and I just did it. If anyone finds out, we'll be in so much trouble. It doesn't matter that I'm eighteen or that we knew each other before we became teacher and student. The laws are clear.
"It's Arielle. Arielle Knightly," the girl on the other side of the door says, frustration in her voice. "Michael said I should talk to you about my classes."