Touch & Taste (Love at First Sight Book 1) Read online

  He went around with every student and repeated the process and after the fifth or sixth mental replay, I brought myself back to the present to study his appearance more closely.

  There was no question that he was too damn old for me. That was obvious. While a part of me was caught up wishing that he was only in his early thirties to make my lust for him at least slightly more appropriate, the lines around his eyes told another story.

  His jaw was covered in stubble that was too thick to refer to as five o’clock shadow, but not enough to be a full-blown beard. I could hear Finley’s voice in my head whispering that he was just too lazy to shave every day, but I didn’t care. It just amplified his sexiness to me, which was odd considering I typically loathed facial hair.

  I pulled my attention up to his eyes and nearly gasped when I noticed them flickering over to me even as he pointed to another student. He was too far away for me to put a proper name to the color, but they were definitely a shade of blue. When he broke our brief moment of eye contact, I did a quick survey of his dark brown hair, wondering if he had gelled it back or if it just naturally sat that way from running his fingers through it.

  The urge to run my fingers through his hair was strong. What the hell was going on? My entire attraction to him was unexplainable and I was having a hard time keeping from fidgeting in my seat. As I trailed my eyes down his neck and button down shirt, I chided myself for taking a spot in the front row. There was no way in hell I’d be able to shoot off a text to Finley or do anything else for that matter without the professor noticing.

  When he finally made his way through the entire class, he turned around and approached the board behind him. He spent the rest of the duration making a list of the texts we’d need for the semester as well as briefly going through the gist of what we’d be covering. As the bell sounded and students started to stand, he made sure to remind us all not to be late.

  I stood from my seat and shoved my notebook into my bag. As I reached for my coat, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I slowly turned my head to find Professor Baxter standing directly behind me.

  “You’re wet.”

  My eyes went wide—how the fuck did he know—until I noticed his eyes trail down to my ass. Remembering how well the damp spot from the snow showed on my jeans, I grimaced.

  “Yeah, I... I slipped on the way to campus. It’s from the snow,” I grumbled, hating to admit it aloud but at the same time not wanting him to think I pissed my pants or something equally embarrassing.

  “I know.”

  “How did—” I stopped myself mid-sentence, turning around to face him fully while I suddenly made sense of the first thing he said to me this morning. “You were driving the Mercedes.”

  Professor Baxter hesitated, seeming to be as uncomfortable as I was as students filed out of the room, leaving us alone with only the stragglers.

  “That was me, yes. I saw you slip and intended to help, but your boyfriend had it covered.”

  I could hardly believe it, but every single bit of experience I’d ever had with men over the years screamed at me that he was fishing. If it had been anyone else, I might have considered teasing him. But nothing about this exchange was deserving of normal behavior.

  “Ben’s my neighbor. He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, swallowing hard when his mouth split into a wide grin.

  “Good to know.” Before I had a chance to question why that was good to know, he spoke again. “You should get to your next class. I’ll see you Wednesday morning.”

  “But—”

  Professor Baxter turned away, leaving me to stare at his retreating form and wonder what the hell had just happened. Did he feel this weird attraction between us as well? Or was I so blinded by desire that I was imagining things that weren’t even there?

  When he made his way into his office and shut the door behind him, I gathered the rest of my belongings and left, disappointed that I had no answers to the dozens of questions that were roaring in my head.

  2

  The rest of the day passed by uneventfully, as did dinner with Finley. We compared notes about our classes but when the subject turned to our professors, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to admit my ridiculous attraction to Professor Baxter.

  I wasn’t sure if it was shame or if I just wasn’t willing to talk about him until I had a clearer picture of whether I was going crazy or not, but I kept my lips sealed tight.

  Tuesday went better than Monday, mainly because Finley and I shared a morning class which guaranteed me a warm ride to campus. I spent Tuesday evening alone while Finley took my advice and went on a date with an ecstatic Ben, doing nothing but staring up at the ceiling and dreading my classes the next day.

  Okay, so ‘dreading’ was definitely the wrong word. The truth was that I was fantasizing about Professor Baxter’s class up to the point that I felt like I was going insane.

  I took extra care getting myself ready the next morning—opting for solid snow boots instead of something pretty, much to my great disappointment. The snow had continued to pile up and the sidewalks were getting worse as more people smashed it down and turned it into slick ice.

  I wasn’t willing to risk another embarrassing fall. The reminder that Professor Baxter of all people had been there to witness it the first time scared me into choosing function over fashion.

  The front door opened as I was zipping up my boots and I raised my eyebrows at Finley as she attempted to quietly shut the door behind her.

  “I take it the date went well?”

  She was clearly startled to find me in the living room and when she jumped and clutched a hand to her chest, I couldn’t fight the laugh that rose from my throat. She was wearing yesterday’s clothes—clearly a walk of shame—but I was incredibly happy that it seemed to work out.

  “You were right,” she grudgingly admitted. “I like Ben.”

  “Well, that much is fairly obvious,” I said with a grin. “And will you be seeing him again tonight?”

  “Hopefully? Is it alright if I invite him here?”

  I nodded my agreement. “I have headphones and believe me—I know how to use them.”

  “Thanks,” she said, plopping down next to me on the couch and letting out a sigh of relief. “His roommate is a jerk.”

  “Oh, I know. He frequently lets the door slam in my face.” I leaned back against the couch for a moment, turning to face Finley and shaking my head when I saw her closed eyes. “I know your class starts later than mine, but shouldn’t you at least start getting ready?”

  Finley waved her hand, dismissing my concerns. “Ben and I are gonna blow off classes today. He’s coming up after his shower.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head while I stood from the couch. “Blowing off class already? Nice.”

  “You’re just mad that your escort is going to be all tied up,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at me for a moment before her brows furrowed in concern. “You want me to give you a lift? He told me about your spill the other morning.”

  That was something else I had purposely left out during our dinner together, but my silence obviously didn’t do a damn bit of good.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, gesturing for her to sit back down when she started to stand. “Seriously. I’ve got my snow boots on and I’ll take it slow.” I stole a glance at the wall clock and squeaked. “Shit. I need to get going.”

  “Be careful!” she shouted down the hall as I ran to get my purse. “And if you get any more creepers following you around, you better call me!”

  It was clear that the fall itself wasn’t the only thing Ben had spilled the beans about. I was curious as to what exactly he had told her about the mysterious car that had pulled up beside me and I could only hope that Finley didn’t decide to badger me about it later.

  Because if I revealed that I now knew who the driver was, I’d also be forced to reveal why I never mentioned Professor Baxter in the first place. Until I had a better grasp on what exact
ly I was feeling for the man, I wanted to keep it all under wraps.

  “Have fun,” I said as I twisted the knob on the front door. I pulled it open and paused, narrowing my eyes at her. “Don’t fuck in my room.”

  “Aye, aye.”

  She topped it off with a salute and I laughed, but the sound died in my throat when I turned to find Ben standing at my door with a horrified expression on his face. He stepped in, glancing between the two of us a few times before letting his gaze fall firmly on Finley.

  “Is that something you’ve done to merit a warning?”

  “Maybe,” she replied in a sing-song voice, a sly grin spreading across her lips.

  “Not that I know of,” I dryly stated, dragging Ben’s attention back to me. “But I wouldn’t put it past her. I’ll see you guys later.”

  Ben gave me a thankful smile and waved me off, closing the door behind me. I heard the lock twist followed by Finley’s high-pitched giggle and I rolled my eyes while fighting off a smile. While I wasn’t on board with her decision to skip classes so early in the semester, I was happy that she gave Ben a chance and it seemed to be working out.

  Proud of my intuition steering me right once again, I left the apartment feeling far peppier than I had expected to be this morning.

  But peppy mood or not—the sidewalk was still a mess. I purposely left early to give myself time to walk a little slower, which in turn meant more time spent in the freezing cold. I was balancing my concentration between not falling and imagining myself on a warm beach in the Bahamas when I sensed something... off.

  I stopped walking and looked around, eyebrows raising high in surprise when I spotted the familiar silver Mercedes pulling up to the curb. It eased to a stop beside me much like it did the first day and I froze with uncertainty.

  The window cracked open a few inches so I hesitantly moved towards the car, nearly groaning with envy when I felt the heat blow across my face. When I peeked through the open slot and saw Professor Baxter’s smile, the warmth on my cheeks spread through the rest of my body.

  “Need a ride?”

  The logical part of my brain reminded me that it’d look pretty bad if I arrived on campus with a teacher, so I pointed in the general direction of the campus and said, “It’s not that far. I can walk.”

  Baxter rolled his eyes, the smile disappearing and replaced by a look of mild irritation.

  “Okay, fine. Do you want a ride?”

  I didn’t have words to explain just how badly I wanted a ride from him. Only not in the way that he was implying.

  Thankfully, I could blame my red cheeks on the cold this time.

  Instead of waiting any longer and running the risk of testing his patience, I decided to follow my intuition when it told me to get in the car. My drop into the passenger seat was unceremonious at best and Professor Baxter chuckled at my awkward angle. I held my feet out the door and knocked my shoes together, ignoring his full-blown laughter while I attempted to get off some of the snow and salt.

  “This is for your benefit, you know,” I said after pulling my legs in and closing the door. “I didn’t want to get your floor dirty.”

  “That’s what the floor mats are there for, darling,” he said with a smirk, his casual use of the simple endearment making me freeze. “Buckle up.”

  I resisted the urge to shake my head as I tried to snap myself back to reality, quickly reaching up and sliding the seatbelt into place. When it clicked, he pulled away from the curb and cranked up the heat.

  It happened immediately. The car began to regain the warmth that was lost when I opened the door and my senses were assaulted by the scent of him. Whatever cologne he wore was the predominant smell, but lurking beneath it was that slightly musky tone that could only be referred to as male.

  I couldn’t help myself. After a long night spent fantasizing about him, my thoughts took a perverted turn. The heat was steadily increasing in my cheeks—not to mention everywhere else—so I focused all my energy on not looking at him, lest I give myself away.

  Which was when he decided to make small talk. Of course.

  “I don’t know how you stand walking through this every day. It’s freezing.”

  “My roommate gives me a ride on Tuesday and Thursday. Her classes start later than mine on the other days,” I explained, clearing my throat at the end and hoping he wouldn’t comment on my slight breathlessness.

  “Why can’t she give you a ride on the other days?”

  I shrugged, though I wasn’t sure why considering he wasn’t even looking at me.

  “She offered but I would’ve felt bad interrupting her morning like that.”

  “And I bet she would feel bad if you got sick because you were being stubborn.”

  Surprised really wasn’t a strong enough word to sum up my reaction. I outwardly scoffed, though I couldn’t find the will to deny the accusation. Knowing Finley, she would feel guilty if I ended up getting sick while she stayed home getting frisky with our neighbor.

  “Look, Professor Baxter—”

  “Joshua.”

  I blinked, confused. “What?”

  “My name is Joshua,” he said slowly, chuckling at my confusion.

  “But... But in class you said you weren’t going to tell us your first name.”

  Professor Baxter’s—Joshua’s—smile instantly dropped and I wondered if his concerned expression was because he had already forgotten one of his own rules, or because he had purposely ignored it only to have me call him out.

  “Well... we’re not in class,” he said, his tone doing a perfectly good job of warning me to drop it. “Besides, I’d prefer if you knew my full name considering you’re riding in my car. It’d be rude of me not to tell you.”

  “That’s true, I guess,” I agreed, though I got the impression he was trying to justify his actions more to himself than to me. “Thanks, by the way.”

  “It’s not a problem. I’d be happy to give you a lift to my class until this damn snow melts.” Joshua turned away from the road just long enough to give my face a once-over with those dark eyes of his. “I’d hate to end up locking you out just because you had such a difficult walk through the snow.”

  “That would be... nice. Thank you,” I repeated, closing my eyes as I realized just how stupid I sounded. But how was one supposed to talk to a professor whom they were in lust with? I sure as hell didn’t have any experience with such a thing to pull from.

  When the car quieted down from conversation, I tried to focus on the sights and sounds outside the car—anything other than the way Joshua looked and smelled. It was easy enough not to look his way, but his scent was impossible to avoid.

  Was it normal to be so turned on by the smell of a man? It was yet another thing I had never experienced.

  After a few more minutes of torment, Professor Baxter pulled up to the curb directly in front of Dickerson Hall and jerked his chin towards the building. It took a second before it clicked in my head that he was dropping me off first instead of parking and walking to the building together, likely because he knew how that would look. With windows as dark as his and practically nobody even glancing our way, this was safer for both our reputations.

  “Thanks. I’ll, uh… I guess I’ll see you in class,” I muttered, unsure of what else I could possibly say.

  “Don’t be late,” he replied with a wink before he put his foot on the brake and shifted the car back into drive.

  Recognizing that as my dismissal, I opened the passenger door and stepped back out into the bitter cold. The Mercedes stayed where it was until I made it safely onto the sidewalk, where I fought the strange urge to turn and wave at him like he was a parent who had just dropped off their kid at school.

  This is so fucking weird.

  3

  The first two weeks of the semester came and went. Six classes with Professor Baxter and five awkward car rides with Joshua.

  It was the only way my mind could process it. The weirdness of riding to class with
a teacher had worn off during our second ride to campus together when I realized that Joshua and Professor Baxter were two entirely separate entities. He was cool and crisp in class—but friendly and relaxed during the ride there.

  And that fucking smell. I almost worked up the nerve to ask him what cologne he wore one morning, but just as I had opened my mouth to speak the question aloud, his head turned and he gave me one of those damn disarming smiles.

  The man was dangerous and for many more reasons that being off-limits due to his position. But something kept making me get back into that car. This incredible attraction to him…

  It was unexplainable. It was wrong. It was—

  “Hurry up, Brooke!”

  —It was Finley pounding on the bathroom door because I’d closed it this morning for extra privacy while I unconsciously dolled myself up for Professor Baxter.

  “Damn it,” I muttered at my reflection.

  I looked fantastic by all accounts, but the dark red lipstick was practically screaming, ‘I’d like to suck your dick on the ride to class this morning, Joshua.’

  And it wasn’t far from the truth.

  Another heavy set of raps landed on the door and I conceded, unlatching the lock and letting Finley into the bathroom. She looked pissed when she entered, an accusation on her tongue that died when she took a good look at me.

  “Hot damn, momma. You’re looking good.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a slight smile, hoping that’d be the end of it.

  But it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t.

  “You gonna tell me who you’re wearing that lipstick for?” she asked with a knowing grin.

  This was a delicate situation. Finley was the type of person to pry while I was generally a very private person, but we’d established a relationship over the years that was solid enough for her to let things occasionally slide. It was just a matter of phrasing.

  “I’d rather not just yet,” I said carefully.

  I had admitted to the fact that I was getting dolled up for a man and also delivered an unsaid promise that I’d eventually fill her in. Hopefully that’d be enough.