Chemical Reaction

"So, do you have a professor in mind to help you with your project?" He asks.

I clear my throat, "No, actually, I don't. Can't imagine why." I ooze sarcasm with my last statement, fully understanding how mundane my topic would be to others.

"Me neither. I would like to volunteer to be your mentor. If you'll have me, of course."

I can't help the incredulous look on my face at his proposition. He laughs lightly at my disbelief before speaking again.

"I know, I know. We got off on the wrong foot, but I am genuinely interested in your topic, and could also use any insight you have for my own project. The gel electro you helped me with the other day was actually an algae extracted from a lichen that I'm currently researching. I thought it was such a coincidence that we were interested in the same kind of science, so I figured I would suggest myself as a mentor."

He ends his spiel by standing up from his chair, moving it aside so there is no longer a barrier between us. He takes two steps towards me, close enough that I need to angle my eyes up to keep looking at his face. I think the proposal over, weighing the pros and cons of spending more time with the man than I already do. He starts again:

"I'll tell you what: Theres a banquet tomorrow night for the microbio department where I'll be presenting my research proposal to a board. Why don't you be my plus one? You listen to what my thing is about, and then you can decide if you think I'll be a good fit for your thing. Yes?"

Yet another proposition. I can't help but notice his pushing, like he really wants to work with me. I try to convince myself that it's just because we have similar interests, and not "similar interest".

"I'll accept your invitation to the banquet, but I make no promises. I was really hoping to find a female professor to work with, if I'm totally honest. I find they're better collaborators." I entirely made that shit up, I just loved that he was so eager and I wanted to assert a little dominance.

He sticks his hand between us, "Deal." A smirk sliding onto his face when I grab his hand and give it a squeeze.

--

Chapter 10

The next night, I'm getting ready for the banquet. Lainey forwarded the email invitation to me and, to my horror, the dress code was formal. Whether that meant business formal or like gala formal was beyond me, but based on the pictures from last year's banquet that I found online, I was going to say it was the latter.

Luckily, I had a full length black satin dress in the back of my closet that I wore to a formal in undergrad. It would be a basic v-neck dress if it weren't for the thin ties at the waist that tied in the back, pulling the material to cinch around my body. I paired it with a some ankle strap black heels. I apply my last coat of mascara as a final touch to my hair and makeup, which are both just simple and clean. I can't do much with my hair since my "I'm-going-to-a-new-school-cut-all-my-hair-off" phase I went through after graduating from my last program, so it was just neatly straightened and tucked behind my ears.

I apply my gloss in the floor length mirror as I do a once over of myself. I'm almost out the door before I turn around and take a swig out of the bottle of Titos' on my bar cart, letting out a super sexy 'bleh' as the liquid courage begins to warm my body. Finally content with myself, I leave my apartment and head to the Chateau Elan Resort where the banquet is being held.

I sincerely hope that it is normal of professors to bring their students to these things, otherwise I'm going to be very obviously younger than the rest of the attendees. My question is answered as I enter the large meeting hall: I am one of maybe three other students in the entire room, evident by our lack of faculty name badges and crows feet.

Trying to ignore the fact that I feel like I am sticking out like a sore thumb, I begin to hunt for Lainey, desperate to find someone I knew, even if it is the man that had me come to this godforsaken banquet. I scan the room and begin to lose hope when I find his eyes across the room. If I had to guess, I would say he has been looking at me for a minute. His body facing me, stilled besides his hand that is bringing his drink to his lips. Despite my desperation to find him just moments earlier, I decide to let him come to me. I pick up a glass of champagne from the clothed table to my right and wait as he moves across the room.

Seeing him this way is interesting. I've only ever seen him while he was sitting, writing, or being annoying, so watching how he cooly crosses the room to me is enough to make my hands fidget around my glass. He's wearing a button down, like always, but it's now paired with a fitted navy suit. His hair shines as he moves, clearly still damp from the shower. I brace myself for the scent of big, clean man, knowing it'll go straight to my pussy after I finish this glass of champagne.

"Fancy seeing you here." I joke as he approaches me, trying to loosen the tension between us in a way that doesn't require copious amounts of alcohol.

He doesn't respond verbally, but instead allows his eyes to scan my body from toe to head, before returning to my waist. I look down at myself once I notice his fixation, only to see that the tie of my dress has come undone, leaving the straps to float limply by my sides.

I barely begin to move to put my drink down so I can use two hands to tie, but he beats me to it. Side stepping me slightly, I turn the rest of the way around until we're front to back. I feel him gently pick up the straps where they hang, pulling them barely taut before tying them together. His knuckles brush my back through the thin fabric and I feel like I'm on the verge of flames. I don't remember the last time a man touching me in such a minuscule way has been enough to make me so unbelievably horny, so I'm choosing to blame my fizzy drink for my sensitive nerve endings.

Once finished, he turns me back to face him, large hand pulling me by the back of my arm.

"All fixed now." He says with a small smile.

He's so fucking nonchalant it's driving me insane. I still have goosebumps on my skin, struggling to catch my breath after our small, yet intimate moment, and he just brushes it off with a sly comment and a smile. I refuse to believe that after that - after everything - that he's completely immune to me. Without missing a beat, I rebut:

"Now I'm perfect." I shoot, reusing his words from the other day against him. He lets out a short, dry laugh before ushering me to a table to sit, leaving me with some other professors as he makes his way to the stage for his presentation.

As he begins, I become engrossed in what he's saying. Not only is he working on me physically, but his brain is as well. He wasn't lying when he said we had similar scientific interests; his project revolves around a type of algae that is having its routines altered by climate change. Not exactly lichen-y, but closer to my project than the other teachers I have talked to. The way he explains his intended methods is sharp, his confidence making the research that much more appealing. Where bravado and sarcasm was, there is now passion and urgency.

His eyes meet mine and hold, making me suddenly aware of how infatuated I must look. My lips apart, my chest obviously pulling large breaths, and my chin sat in my hands as I lean toward him subconsciously. My resolve is completely gone. Forget the toe, I'm ready to dive, head first, into the water. I keep my eyes on him as he leaves the stage and heads back to the table. Several people try to stop him to congratulate him on a job well done, but he seems to be moving with purpose back to his seat.

He sits down next to me, picking up his drink and quickly downing it before looking at me with expectant eyes that tell me to do the same. I drink the rest of what is my second glass of champagne and wait for his next direction. I'm practically putty as he pulls me out of the chair by my forearm, dropping down to my hand as we begin to walk out of the banquet hall. Not a word has been said, but I feel myself tingle with anticipation.

This is no longer teacher-student, that is clear. I smile triumphantly because I know now that I was right. His alpha male persona was a front that was about to fall, and I couldn't wait to see it. Whether or not this was appropriate seemed like such a minute detail compared to the magnitude of the attraction. I'll drop the class and take it again next semester if I have to because, at this point, there was no changing my mind.

He finds a single room bathroom down a secluded hall, aptly labeled 'family restroom' considering the baby-making shit that is about to happen inside. He opens the door and lets me go in first. I make my way into the bathroom until I reach the counter, where I turn to face him again, now with my back resting against the ledge I'm gripping for dear life. He shuts the door and locks it, turning the face me. He takes me in again, skimming his eyes - fuck, those eyes - down my body. This is it, he walks over to me, caging me in with his arms, grabbing the ledge just outside of my hands.

"Were you trying to distract me, Bradshaw?" He questions, taking me back a little with his scolding tone. He looks down at me, waiting for an answer.

"No, I- What do you mean?" I stutter slightly, actually confused by his question.

"I'm trying to focus on presenting my project, but all I can think about is how you were looking up at me with those pretty eyes and those-" He brings a hand up to my face, letting his thumb swipe across my lower lip, "lips. I could barely finish my proposal."

His thumb remains on my lip, where I send a tentative tongue out to wet it, trying my best to keep eye contact, even if his darkened eyes are threatening to make my knees buckle. He takes a quick breath in and out, then moves his thumb to just under my jaw, holding my face as he brings his lips to mine. A needy moan escapes me at the contact and I start to notice just how horny I am.

I slide his jacket off and let it drop to the floor carelessly, bringing my hands back up to grip his broad shoulders. He picks me up and roughly sets me on the counter, sliding his hands up my thighs to bunch my dress enough for him to stand between my legs. I feel his growing erection meet my center, the pressure making my instantly hot. I try to grind myself against him, but he holds my hips firm to the counter.

I whine into the kiss, desperate for friction and being denied. He removes his mouth from mine, turning my face abruptly to give himself access to my neck. I tighten my grip on his shoulders, arching my back into him as he wraps his free hand around my waist. I moan and squirm within his grip as he slowly works on my neck, each hot kiss making goosebumps raise on my skin.

"God, I've been thinking about this since you walked in late to class the first week." He talks in between his open-mouth kisses, "First, you challenged me, then you looked so sweet when you were helping with my experiment. I knew I had to fuck you." I'm not usually one for dirty talk, but his words are getting to me. I know my underwear are fully soaked already and I'm over the foreplay.

"Fuck me, then." I barely breathe out, Lainey moaning against my neck in response. He starts to slide the straps of my dress off my shoulders, leaving a kiss where each used to sit. My hands fumble for his belt and zipper; I feel like an animal as I reach into his pants for his fully hard cock. His breath quickens, the response to my touch making me even hotter, if that's even possible. He pushes his pants down just enough to free himself. He pulls my underwear to the side and begins to slowly push into my throbbing core.

A wave of momentary panic washes over me as we seal our fate, but the thought is quickly replaced with satisfaction as he bottoms out inside of me. He picks each of my legs up and drapes them over is elbows, angling himself deeper.

"Fuck, that is so good, baby." He says lowly, looking down at where our bodies are connected as he moves in and out at an even pace, each thrust ending with a strangled moan from the both of us. With is left arm supporting my lower back, he uses his right hand to tweak my newly exposed nipples. The sensation of both areas getting stimulated is almost too much to bear, my mouth hanging open as profanities quietly flow from it.

I give him more of my weight as I let go of one of is shoulders, to stimulate myself further with my own fingers. My head falls back against the mirror behind me and I squeeze my eyes shut, the build up in my stomach signaling I will not last much longer.

"Yes, just like that, such a good girl." He praises, leaning forward amidst his thrusts to reconnect our lips.

It's all too much, his lips the icing on the cake as I come undone under him. He continues to fuck me through my orgasm, amplifying the impact. I'm just barely able to collect myself before he pulls me off the ledge and bends me over it. My dress slides to the floor as I rise, leaving my in only my heels and soaked underwear. The pressure of the cold counter against my chest is almost enough to calm me down a bit before I feel his fingertips on the inside of my thigh, just above my knee. He slides his hand slowly up my leg, the other firmly grasping my ass cheek. His mobile hand reaches my other cheek, giving it quick spank. He hums with approval.

"Will you be able to stay up for me, baby?" he asks, rubbing is cock up and down my folds teasingly, on the verge of overstimulating my pulsing clit. "Answer me." His command resonating in me as I squeak out a 'yes'. My voice is practically useless as I lay limp-bodied over the vanity, ready to let him do what he wants with me.

"Good girl." He responds in a satisfied tone, pushing himself back into me with a low moan. His hands grip my hips, keeping me still as he resumes his steady pace in and out. The frequency of his moans signals to me that he is close, the sounds of his pleasure alone are enough to push me over the edge for a second time, my legs shaking as he approaches his climax.

Lainey removes himself, pulling me off the counter and letting me drop to my knees of the floor in front of him. With one hand he holds my face, with the other he pumps himself.

"I fucking love how you look under my cock, so beautiful." His words encourage me and I rise up on wobbly knees to take his length in my mouth. A breathy 'yes' passes is lips as his head tilts back. With both hands on the sides of my face, I let him fuck my throat, those brown eyes looking down at me in disbelief.

With one final thrust and shudder, he comes down my throat, watching me as I swallow slowly. His thumbs stroke my face gently as I continue to coax reactions out of him by kissing the underside of is softening member.

When he catches his breath, he easily pulls me off the ground, kissing my lips gently as I stand. He crouches in front of me and takes my underwear off, carefully unhooking it from my shoes, and slides the saturated fabric into his pants pocket. Giving me no time to think about the action, he guides my legs back into the crumpled pile of my dress on the floor, pulling it up my body over my arms as he stood back up.

He looks at me tenderly, almost painfully so, and uses a gentle hand to smooth my hair back into place. I turn around to face the mirror so he can tie my dress for the second time tonight and place a finalizing kiss just under my jaw.

As if nothing happened, he puts himself back together and we leave the building together hand in hand.

"So, what do you think about being my mentor for my paper?"