Chapter 32
**Sara**
I woke up to a beam of sunlight hitting me square in the face. I rolled over and buried my head under the pillow, trying to escape the morning's cruel assault on my senses.
"Five more minutes," I mumbled to no one in particular.
But my body had other ideas. My bladder was screaming for attention, and my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. Reluctantly, I dragged myself out of bed, wincing as my feet hit the cold floor.
"Okay, okay, I'm up," I grumbled, stretching my arms above my head. My back cracked, making me feel about a hundred years old.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror and nearly jumped out of my skin. My hair looked like a bird had tried to make a nest in it, and my makeup was smeared in a way that made me look like a raccoon's evil twin.
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," I muttered to my reflection.
Stumbling towards the bathroom, I splashed some water on my face and attempted to tame the wild beast that was my hair. After a few minutes of wrestling with a comb, I gave up and settled for a messy bun.
With a deep breath, I stepped out of the bedroom and into the living room. And there he was. Tom, sitting on the couch, looking unfairly handsome and put-together as he read a book.
"Morning, sunshine," he said, glancing up at me with a smile that made my knees weak.
I grunted in response, making a beeline for the kitchen. "Coffee," I managed to croak out.
"Already made. Help yourself."
I poured myself a cup and inhaled the heavenly aroma. After a few sips, I felt almost human again.
"So," I said, leaning against the kitchen counter, "what are you reading?"
I took another sip of coffee, feeling more human with each passing second. Tom looked up from his book, a slight smirk on his lips.
"Oh, just a little light reading," he said, his tone casual but with a hint of mischief.
I raised an eyebrow. "Light reading, huh? Must be pretty interesting if you're so engrossed."
Tom's smirk widened. "You could say that. It's, uh, quite stimulating."
Something about the way he said "stimulating" made me curious. I padded over to the couch, peering over his shoulder.
"Let me see that," I said, reaching for the book.
Tom playfully held it away. "Now, now, Sara. Curiosity killed the cat, you know."
"It's a Good thing I'm not a cat, then. Come on, what are you hiding?" I insisted, making another grab for the book.
Tom's smirk only widened as he continued to keep the book out of my reach. "Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about," he teased.
"Oh, please. I'm a grown woman. I can handle a little light reading," I shot back, making another grab for the book.
Finally, he relented, handing it over with a resigned sigh. "Alright, alright. But don't say I didn't warn you."
I flipped the book over, and my eyes widened at the sight of the scantily clad man and woman on the cover. "Erotic Encounters?" I read aloud, feeling my cheeks flush. "Really?"
"Hey, a guy's gotta have some fun, right?" he said, chuckling at my reaction.
I glanced down at the open page, my eyes immediately drawn to the provocative description of the woman's "glistening folds" and the man's "throbbing member." I swallowed hard, my grip on the book tightening.
"I, uh, I can't believe you're reading this," I stammered, my face burning with embarrassment.
"What can I say? I'm a man of many interests."
I shook my head, taking another sip of my coffee, desperately attempting to regain my composure. "Well, I hope you're enjoying your, uh, stimulating read," I muttered, handing the book back to him.
He placed the book on the coffee table. "Oh, I am. But you know, there's nothing quite like the real thing."
I nearly choked on my coffee at Tom's words. "The real thing?" I sputtered, trying to regain my composure. "Are you seriously hitting on me right now?"
Tom leaned back on the couch, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, come on, Sara. Can't a guy appreciate a beautiful woman when he sees one?"
I tried to ignore the flutter in my stomach. "Appreciate all you want, but maybe keep it to yourself, Professor."
"Professor, huh? I kind of like that sound," he said with a wink. "You know, speaking of appreciation, I was thinking..."
"Dangerous pastime," I muttered.
He ignored my comment and continued, "We're both adults here, right? And we've already crossed that line once. So, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to, you know, engage in some extracurricular activities?"
"Extracurricular activities? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
Tom grinned, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Well, I could be more explicit if you'd like. How about we-"
"No!" I cut him off, holding up a hand. "I get the picture, thanks."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Come on, Sara. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it. Our bodies intertwined, the heat between us, the-"
"Okay, okay!" I interrupted, my face burning. "Let's just... let's forget about all that, alright? We need to focus on the fact that you're my professor now. This," I gestured between us, "can't happen again."
Tom's face fell slightly, but he nodded. "You're right, of course. I was just... well, I guess I got carried away."
"Look, it's not that I don't find you attractive. It's just... complicated."
"Complicated," he repeated, a wry smile on his face. "Story of my life."
We sat in awkward silence for a moment, the tension palpable.
I took another sip of my coffee, savoring the rich flavor as it washed away the last remnants of my hangover. The awkward silence stretched between us, and I desperately searched for a change of subject.
"So, this place is pretty swanky for a professor's salary. What's your secret? Moonlighting as a cat burglar?"
"Afraid not. My life of crime is strictly limited to jaywalking and the occasional overdue library book."
"Uh-huh," I said, narrowing my eyes playfully. "Come on, spill. You got a sugar mommy stashed away somewhere? Some rich old biddy sponsoring your lavish lifestyle?"
He let out an exaggerated gasp, his eyes widening in mock offense. "A sugar mommy? Really, Sara? Do I look like the type?" He placed a hand dramatically over his heart as if wounded by the very suggestion.
"Oh, I don't know. You've got that whole silver fox thing going on. I bet the ladies are lining up to shower you with gifts and affection."
Tom's eyebrows shot up. "Silver fox? I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended."
"Definitely flattered," I said with a wink. "So, if it's not a sugar mommy, what's the deal? Trust fund baby? Won the lottery? Sold your soul to the devil for a sweet pad?"
"Nothing quite so dramatic, I'm afraid. The truth is... my father's actually the developer for this entire building. I own this apartment."
"Wait, what? Your dad owns the whole building?"
"Yep," he said, popping the 'p' with a grin. "It's one of the perks of being the prodigal son, I suppose."
I whistled low, impressed despite myself. "Well, well, well. Looks like I've stumbled into the lap of luxury. Should I curtsy or something?"
Tom rolled his eyes. "Please don't. I get enough of that from the building staff."
"Oh, poor baby," I teased. "It must be so hard being rich and handsome."
"Hey, it's not all champagne and caviar, you know," he protested. "Sometimes the caviar's subpar."
"Oh, the humanity! How do you survive?"
"With great difficulty," he said solemnly before breaking into a grin. "But having beautiful women in my apartment certainly helps."
"Oh, smooth talker, aren't you?" I retorted, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. "So, tell me, Professor Casanova, do you regularly have one-night stands? Or am I just special?"
"Only a few, actually. But you, my dear Sara, are definitely my favorite."
"Wow, I'm flattered. Should I expect a trophy in the mail?"
"I could arrange that," he quipped. "Maybe engrave it with 'Sara: Queen of the One-Night Stand' or something equally classy."
"You're impossible," I groaned, shaking my head.
Tom's voice dropped an octave, his eyes darkening. "You know, I still can't forget your moans. The way you sounded that night... it was absolutely intoxicating."
I felt my face flush, memories of our night together flashing. "I... that's... you can't just say things like that!"
"Why not?" he challenged, leaning closer. "It's the truth. You were incredible, Sara. The way you moved, the sounds you made... I've never experienced anything like it."
"Stop it," I mumbled, but there was no real conviction behind my words. "We can't... this isn't appropriate."
"Appropriate?" Tom chuckled. "Darling, we're way past appropriate. Remember when you-"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" I interrupted, my face burning. "That was... it was a one-time thing. We agreed, remember?"
Tom's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense. "Maybe I don't want it to be just a one-time thing."
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