Tilly Bagshawe 3-book Bundle: Scandalous, Fame, Friends and Rivals. Tilly Bagshawe
is, Sasha: do you realize how much you’re worth?’
He was staring at her, holding eye contact. Sasha felt her insides liquefy and her knees start to wobble. Is he coming on to me? But no, he couldn’t be. He was her professor. Her married professor. Besides, even if he wanted to be unfaithful (understandable in his situation) a man like Theo Dexter could have any woman he wanted. He wouldn’t be interested in a teenage nobody like her.
Holding out his hand, Theo stroked her cheek. Oh my God. Sasha felt as if she was about to pass out. ‘Sasha. Beautiful Sasha …’
‘Professor Dexter, I …’
‘Shhhh.’ Leaning forward, he put down his wine glass and stopped her with a kiss. It started as a tender brushing of the lips. But before Sasha knew it their whole bodies were entwined, pressing against one another. Theo’s tongue felt hot inside her mouth, caressing her, teasing her. The only other person Sasha had kissed was Will, and that had felt … well, nothing like this, that was for sure. It was all very disconcerting. Her limbs seemed to be acting with a mind of their own. Were those her fingers in Professor Dexter’s hair? Theo pressed his hard thigh between Sasha’s legs and she jumped like a flea on a hotplate.
‘Stop! We can’t.’ Panicked, she pulled away from him. ‘I’m … you’re … this is definitely against the rules.’
‘Whose rules?’ Theo kissed her again. God, it was heavenly.
‘Everybody’s rules!’ She squirmed free again. ‘I’m your student, Professor … Theo. You’re my teacher. And you’re married.’
Theo’s quick mind was working overtime. He had to tread very carefully here. He’d put in a lot of groundwork with Sasha all term and he didn’t want to blow it at the last hurdle. I mustn’t be the bad guy. I have to make her feel sorry for me.
‘I know.’ He sat down on one of the benches and put his head in his hands. Sasha tried to feel relieved, but part of her – a big part – wished he would waive aside her objections and start kissing her again. What am I getting myself into? She took a big slug of her wine, choked, then took another, draining her glass. She sat down next to Theo, who wordlessly reached for the bottle and poured her another.
‘I’m being selfish,’ he said. ‘I know that. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. I shouldn’t be burdening you with my marital problems. Sometimes I just feel like …’ He paused, as if struggling to find the right words. ‘Like I’d like some happiness for myself for a change. It sounds awful, doesn’t it?’
‘No. Not at all.’ Instinctively, Sasha put her arms around him. ‘And you’re not burdening me. I’m happy to listen.’
The mothering instinct, thought Theo. Women can’t resist a bird with a broken wing.
‘You’ve been so kind to me since I got here, Pro … Theo,’ she blushed. ‘The least I can do is return the favour.’
Theo swirled the Pétrus around in his glass, gazing into the deep purple liquid as if the secret to his life’s problems might lie hidden in its depths. Then he took a slow sip and said quietly, ‘You’re not attracted to me. Well, why would you be?’ He flashed Sasha a sweet, self-deprecating smile. ‘In your eyes I’m probably only a few years away from my pension.’
‘That is absolutely not true!’ Sasha touched his cheek, turning him to face her. The Pétrus must have gone straight to her head or she would never have been so forward. But her inhibitions seemed to be deserting her. ‘I think you’re extremely attractive. Everybody does,’ she added, immediately regretting blurting out the last part. She didn’t want to sound like some sort of groupie.
‘I can’t help it Sasha.’ Tears welled up in Theo’s eyes. ‘When I’m with you, I feel like I can glimpse my future. And for the first time in years, I see happiness.’
‘Oh, Theo.’ Sasha leaned forwards and kissed him. There was no hesitation this time. Slipping his hands under her shirt, cupping her magnificent teenage breasts, it was all Theo could do not to punch the air in triumph. Swiftly, joyously, his practised hands unclasped her bra and helped her out of her jeans, stripping off layer after layer of clothing like an erotic game of pass the parcel. Bending his head to kiss her belly, then tracing his tongue slowly down to her smooth, creamy thighs, Theo felt Sasha’s back arch and heard her gasp involuntarily, lost in pleasure and too inexperienced to hide it.
‘You’re shaking,’ he whispered. ‘Are you cold?’
‘A little,’ murmured Sasha.
Theo grinned, ‘Let’s warm you up then, shall we?’
Hastily throwing one of the blankets down on the table, he lifted her up as easily as he might a rag doll and lay her down on her back. Still dressed himself – there was no need for both of them to catch hypothermia – he unceremoniously unzipped his flies to release an erection that put poor Will’s in the shade. Grabbing Sasha’s hand he curled her fingers around it.
‘Good God.’ Her eyes widened. ‘It’s huge!’
Could this get any better?
‘It is all yours,’ he whispered, thrusting himself inside her with so much force that she slid two feet up the table. Her body was exquisite, perfectly proportioned, slim yet succulent. He couldn’t keep his lips off those perfect breasts, and his hands groped greedily for her buttocks as he fucked her harder and faster, racing towards climax. But best of all were Sasha’s responses. So desirous, so uninhibited! She made him feel like Mick Jagger.
Theo had been bored of Clara for months now. The porno body that had once so excited him now seemed grotesque. It was like fucking a pregnant sow. When sex with your wife was more exciting than sex with your mistress, something was very wrong. But now dear, sweet little Sasha Miller was here. And everything was very, very right.
With one final jerk of the hips, Theo Dexter closed his eyes and came. He felt the glorious tightening of Sasha’s muscles around him, heard her moaning with her own orgasm as she bucked and writhed helplessly beneath him.
This was going to be a great year after all.
Back at home, Theresa was putting the finishing touches to her signature chocolate fudge cake. It was Theo’s favourite, and she’d spent the entire afternoon baking it, neglecting her book, in the hope of cheering him up. He’d disappeared after breakfast this morning in a foul mood, mumbling something about going into college, and hadn’t so much as texted her since.
Staring out of the kitchen window at the snowy front garden, Theresa watched a little robin hop tentatively across the lawn, eyeing the bird feeder in her apple tree.
Poor thing. I forgot to fill it. Theo was always getting cross with her for her forgetfulness. But how was one supposed to remember not to forget things, that was the question? I’ll do it as soon as I’ve iced the cake.
Biting her lip, eyes narrowed in concentration, she began tracing a perfect, italic T in icing sugar across the gooey chocolate. Like snow on a ploughed field. Jenny and Jean Paul had gone out to Grantchester to make snowmen with the kids. Sensing Theresa’s loneliness, Jenny had asked her to join them, but Theresa didn’t feel like playing gooseberry. Besides, Theo might be back any minute. Whatever was troubling him, he wouldn’t want to come home and find a dark, empty house.
She finished the cake, and then disappeared to hunt for kindling so she could light a nice, welcoming fire.
She’d completely forgotten about the robin.
In St Michael’s wine cellar, curled up naked on the sofa under a big pile of blankets, Sasha Miller lay in Professor Theo Dexter’s arms in blissful shock.
Will Temple’s Casanova reputation would never recover.
‘What are you thinking?’ Theo softly stroked her hair.
I’m thinking about what my wedding dress will