Chapter 85
**Tom**
I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear. "Sweetheart, I could go all night and still be ready for more in the morning. These young guys? They're like firecrackers - all flash and no staying power."
She shivered, her fingers digging into my arms. "Is that so?"
"Mhmm," I murmured, trailing kisses down her neck. "I've got years of experience on my side. I know exactly how to make a woman squirm with pleasure, how to build her up slowly until she's begging for release."
"Tom, you can't just say things like that."
I chuckled, nipping at her earlobe. "Why not? It's the truth. I could show you right now if you'd like."
For a moment, I thought she might take me up on the offer. But then her stomach growled loudly, breaking the tension.
Sara burst into laughter, burying her face in my chest. "That was embarrassing," she giggled.
"I guess I'm not the only one with an appetite," I teased.
She pulled back, her cheeks flushed with desire and amusement. "As much as I'd love for you to prove your stamina right now, Professor, I think we need to feed this beast first," she said, patting her stomach.
"Oh? And here I thought I was the beast," I quipped, waggling my eyebrows.
Sara snorted, playfully shoving me away. "Down, boy. Food first, then you can show me how beastly you can be."
"Alright, alright. I know better than to stand between a woman and her food. How about we go out to eat? I know this great Italian place not far from here."
"Ooh, Italian sounds perfect," Sara said, her eyes lighting up. "Just give me a few minutes to change into something more appropriate for public consumption."
I glanced down at her tiny shorts and tank top, feeling regretful. "Are you sure? I think what you're wearing is just fine."
She laughed, heading towards her bedroom. "Nice try, Professor. But I don't think the other diners would appreciate my outfit as much as you do."
"Their loss," I called after her, admiring the view as she walked away.
While Sara changed, I wandered around her living room, taking in the details of her life. Textbooks were scattered across the coffee table, mixed with fashion magazines and a half-empty mug of what looked like day-old coffee. A corkboard on the wall was covered in sticky notes, to-do lists, and photos of Sara with friends. It was chaotic and colorful, just like her.
"Alright, Professor, I'm ready," Sara's voice called out.
I turned around, expecting to see her in some knockout outfit that would make my jaw drop. Instead, I found myself face to face with... a baggy t-shirt and jeans.
"Well, don't you look... comfortable," I said, trying to hide my disappointment.
"What? Were you expecting a little black dress and stilettos?"
"I mean, I wouldn't have complained," I admitted with a shrug.
She grabbed her purse from the couch. "Sorry to disappoint, old man. But some of us prefer comfort over style when just going out for a casual dinner."
"Old man? I thought we'd moved past that," I groaned, following her to the door.
"Oh, come on. You know I'm just teasing you."
"Uh-huh. Sure you are," I replied, crossing my arms and trying to look stern. It was hard to maintain a serious expression when she looked at me like that, all playful and irresistible.
She stepped closer, her hands sliding up my chest. "Aw, did I hurt your feelings? Want me to kiss it better?"
"Well, if you insist..."
Before I could say another word, Sara's lips were on mine. The kiss was soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the heated exchanges we'd shared earlier. It was almost innocent, which somehow made it even more intoxicating.
When she started to pull away, something inside me snapped. I spun us around swiftly, pressing her against the wall next to the door. Her eyes widened in surprise, but I captured her lips again before she could speak.
This kiss was different. It was hungry, passionate, filled with all the desire I'd been holding back. My hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as I deepened the kiss. Sara responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in my hair.
I lost track of time as we stood there, lost in each other. It could have been minutes or hours; I couldn't tell. All I knew was the softness of her lips, the warmth of her body pressed against mine, and the intoxicating scent of her perfume.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily. Sara's cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from our kiss. She looked utterly ravishing.
"Well," I said, my voice a bit husky, "I think I've successfully proven that I'm not an old man after all."
"I don't know. I might need more evidence before I can make a final judgment."
"Oh really? And what kind of evidence did you have in mind?"
"I'm sure we can think of something. But first..." Her stomach growled again, louder this time. "I think we need to feed this beast before it decides to eat us both."
"Can't have that, can we? Though I must say, I wouldn't mind being eaten by you."
"Tom!" She swatted my arm, trying to look scandalized but failing miserably. "You're terrible."
"You love it," I shot back with a wink.
"Maybe," she conceded. "Now, let's go eat. We have all night, after all."
"All night, huh? That's quite a promise. Are you sure you can handle it?"
"Please. The question is, can you handle me, old man?"
"There's only one way to find out," I said, opening the door for her with an exaggerated bow. "Shall we?"
I felt excitement and nervousness as we stepped out into the cool night air. This thing with Sara was intense, passionate, and more than a little dangerous. But as I watched her walk ahead of me, her hips swaying slightly, I knew I was in too deep to back out now.
"You coming?" Sara called over her shoulder. "Or are you too busy admiring the view?"
I quickened my pace to catch up with her. "Just making sure you don't trip in those... comfortable shoes of yours."
"My hero. What would I do without you?"
"Probably eat a lot less Italian food," I quipped.
"True. Though I'm hoping for a different kind of Italian sausage later," she said with a wink.
"Sara! And you call me terrible?"
She linked her arm through mine. "What can I say? You're a bad influence on me, Professor."
"Me? A bad influence? I'm shocked and appalled at such an accusation."
"Oh please, you practically ooze corruption," she teased, bumping her hip against mine.
"Corruption, huh? And here I thought I was broadening your educational horizons."
"Is that what we're calling it now? Because I'm pretty sure what you've been teaching me isn't on any official curriculum."
"Extracurricular activities, my dear. Very important for a well-rounded education."
"Well-rounded, indeed," she murmured, her hand sliding dangerously low on my back.
I caught her wrist, bringing her hand back up to safer territory. "Behave yourself, Miss Johnson. We're in public."
"Says the man who had me pinned against a wall not ten minutes ago."
"That was different. We were in private then."
"Mmm, true. Though I wouldn't mind if you decided to pin me against something again later."
"Is that a request or a demand?"
"Whichever gets me what I want," she said, giving me a playful smirk.
We reached the elevator. I pressed the button and waited for the doors to slide open. When they did, we stepped inside, and I hit the button for the ground floor. The doors closed, and the elevator began its descent.
"So," I said, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms, "about this Italian place. Any particular dish you're craving?"
"I'm thinking something with a lot of garlic," she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "That way, if I decide to kiss you again, you'll have to really want it."
"Oh, trust me, garlic breath or not, I'll always want it."
"Good to know," she replied, stepping closer to me. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and I knew she was up to something.
Before I could react, she grabbed my tie and pulled me down for a kiss. It was quick, teasing, leaving me wanting more.
She pulled back. "See? I can be a bad influence, too."
"You're a menace," I said, shaking my head. "A beautiful, irresistible menace."
"I try," she said with a wink.
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