30 NIGHTS
The 30 Series #2
Christine d'Abo
Released May 31st, 2016
Kensington
Baring
your body is simple--but baring your soul might just change everything.
The last thing Glenna O'Donald
expected to stumble upon in a cemetery was a pack of index cards. And not just
any cards--each one contains instructions for a seriously kinky,
no-holds-barred sexual encounter. Glenna, an over-analytical research assistant
by day, is suddenly tempted to conduct some nocturnal experiments of her own.
Especially when gorgeous university professor Eric Morris offers to be her lab
partner.
Soon Glenna begins meeting with Eric
once a week to try out the suggestions that intrigue her most. In between those
daring nights of sensual exploration are work days filled with laughter and
flirting…until Glenna fears she's getting in too deep. For all the pleasure
she's giving and receiving, Glenna wants more than skin-on-skin
interaction--and Eric realizes he's about to lose the intimate connection he
didn't know he needed. Can they find the courage to take this game to the next
level?
As hot as it is heartwarming,
Christine d'Abo's fresh, witty novel proves that practice makes perfect, and
that some games are worth playing…
“I’m telling you, the staff
barbecue is the perfect place for you to talk to him.” She opened her lunch and
the smell of kimchi rice filled the room.
The him she was
referring to was Professor Eric Morris. The tall, dark-haired, super-fit
sociology professor had a voice that could melt hearts and drop panties with a
simple hello. Professor Eric Morris,
who had more female students in his class than anyone else on campus. A man who
rarely smiled, but when he looked at you there was no doubt he not only saw
you, but every thought and feeling that flitted through your head. He starred
in far too many of my nightly fantasies for me to admit without sounding like a
crazy, obsessed stalker.
The man, who in the year and a bit that he’d been
teaching at the college, I’d barely managed to say two words to, because I was,
as Jasmine put it, a coward.
“I love you like a sister, Jaz. But there is no way I’m
going to say anything to him. Ever.”
It was the Friday before the Labor Day weekend, the last
workday before the start of the school year. Most of the professors from the
college were gone, taking their last bit of vacation to play golf, read, or do
whatever their passions happened to be. I loved working this time of year. The
school was quiet. It always felt as though someone had taken a deep breath and
were waiting to exhale. A collective pause before the chaos to come.
This year was going to be especially awesome. Professor
Mickelson, my boss, had already been away for three months on his semester-long
sabbatical. I still had four more months of only communicating with him via
e-mail. Heaven!
“Are you insane?” Jasmine threw her napkin at me. “This
is the perfect time for you to do it. He’ll be there. You’ll be there. Your
crazy boss won’t be there. You might
even be able to relax and have fun for once.”
She was my best friend in the whole wide world, but there
were times when Jasmine scared the shit out of me. I looked down at my hands and
picked at the dry skin around my nail. “I just can’t.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? He’ll say no. At the
very least you’ll have an answer and you can move on to someone else.”
A grad student chose that moment to come into the
kitchen. He didn’t even look at us as he made his way to the coffee machine. I
leaned forward to close the distance between me and Jasmine. “I’m quite happy
with my fantasies, thank you.”
“I bet you are. I bet you dream about climbing up his
body and licking every inch of his skin.”
The grad student looked at us wide-eyed before he spun
away quickly. I got the impression he was still listening, no doubt wanting to
get some dirt that could be passed around the student lounge. Great, like I
needed that kind of attention.
I nodded my head in the direction of our friend. “Can you
keep your voice down a bit?”
“Not if you’re not going to listen to my advice.” She
leaned back and crossed her arms, her eyes locked onto mine. “You need to make
a move before someone else snatches him up.”
Now the grad student wasn’t even pretending that he
wasn’t paying attention. Jasmine must have picked up on it too, because in the
next instant she turned around and glared at him. “Don’t you have someplace to
be, Stuart? Like running your tutorial?”
“Ah, yeah. Yes.” For a moment I thought his eyes were
going to bug out of his head.
“Then move your ass.” Jasmine pointed at the door and
narrowed her gaze.
I’d never seen a person move that quickly before in my
life.
When she turned her glare back on me, I knew I wasn’t
going to be spared anything. “Glenna, I know you don’t believe me, but this is
the truth. You are not meant to be alone. You and Eric would be cute together.
He’s serious, you’re serious. Just think about what sex would be like with him.
Jesus, if I weren’t gay even I’d be tempted to take him for a ride my-self.”
And there was a mental picture I so didn’t want—my best
friend and my crush fucking.
“I hate you.” I pulled my tuna sandwich out of my
container and took a giant bite. “He doesn’t even know I’m alive. Saying hello
to him at the barbecue isn’t going to do anything to help get him into my bed.”
“Well, you can’t expect him to fuck you if you can’t at
least have a simple conversation.” She took a big bite of her kimchi and waved
her fork around. “Maybe you can get drunk and then grope his ass. Then you’d
have to go apologize. There might be groveling. ‘Oh, please Eric, how can I
ever make it up to you?’” She batted her eyelashes at me before laughing. “You
should see your face.”
“You’re an asshole. Why are we even friends?”
“Because I showed you how to shotgun a beer our first
week of college.”
“Only after I saved your ass with that essay.”
But as she knew, my brain does this thing that as soon as
someone puts a thought out there I can’t help but picture how things will work
out, all the way to their natural conclusion. In my head I saw myself at the
party. Eric would walk by on his way to the food table or something. I’d
“accidentally” bump into him as he passed me and look into his eyes all
surprised. Maybe I’d even spill a drink on myself. He’d think he’d done it and
would help me clean myself.
I’m sorry, Glenna.
How can I make up for this?
Oh nothing. It was
an accident.
I can’t stand by
while I’ve done you wrong. At least let me give you a clean shirt.
I’d blush, of course, because who wouldn’t. Thank you.
Why don’t you take
mine? His voice would be that low rumble that always seemed to turn me on.
His eyes would be locked onto me as he’d slowly unbutton his shirt.
Wow, Eric. Your
chest is so firm.
Would you like to
see the rest of me?
And bam, crazy-monkey sex!
If only.
I cleared my throat and quickly took another bite of my
sandwich. “I don’t think Eric likes anyone. Or has sex. Or anything. He’s
always on his own.”
“Baby, I’ve seen that man. He’s having sex. As much as he
wants with whomever he wants to do it with. I keep telling you all you need to
do is go after him.”
“He doesn’t know I’m alive,” I said again. And I was
essentially a coworker. That went against so many things on my mental “don’t
touch” list I couldn’t fathom it.
“Whose fault is that? Not his. If you want someone then
you need to do something about it. Life doesn’t reward the cautious.”
“Sometimes it does.”
“You don’t believe that.”
I hated when she was right. “Maybe.”
“You’re a research assistant who lives in the world of
studies and observations. Talk to him—hell, I was serious about the groping.
I’m sure you could chalk this up to some exception-ally hands-on research
project.”
“God, you’re a child sometimes. I don’t need a man to
fulfill me when I have a perfectly good vibrator at home to help—”
“Baby, all you do is masturbate.”
“—live out my
fantasies. I’d be scared that the reality would never live up to the imaginary
Eric that I’ve created in my head.”
It was in that moment that my skin began to tingle. We
were still alone in the kitchen, but I could have sworn someone was there. It
was probably Stuart standing outside in the hall trying to get some more dirt.
Well, he was out of luck because I was done being browbeaten by Jasmine.
“I need to get back soon. Professor Mickelson left me a
pile of books to pull and outline for him. He’ll be chasing me through e-mails
if I’m not done soon.”
Thankfully, she sighed, signaling the end of her teasing.
“When does the old goat get back?”
“He’s off all term, but he’s threatened to come back
around the end of October for a check-in. Then I’m sure he’ll have me buried in
another bunch of new projects before the next term starts.”
“I’d better head out too. I have a one-thirty meeting.
Apparently the CS profs want to do a study on online learning again. I have to
pull some old case studies so they don’t rehash an old thesis.”
“Blah.”
The echo of our chairs scraping as we stood filled the
room. One second I was picking up my garbage and taking it to the garbage can,
and in the next I was face-to-face with the object of my lust.
Professor Eric Morris stood in the doorway, coffee mug in
hand. Well, stood isn’t quite the
right description. It’s more like he loomed.
He’s probably only a smidgen over six feet tall, but being only five foot four
myself, it makes for a huge difference from my perspective. Mind you, being eye
level with his chest was no hardship. His dress shirts fit him perfectly, but
they couldn’t hide the muscles beneath. As usual, I was paying more attention
to his pecs—Were they really as firm as they looked?— rather than his face.
That was why I didn’t immediately notice him staring at me. Which he totally
was.
And there was my blush.
“Umm, hi, Professor Morris.”
Woot, go me! I
finally spoke to him.
“Glenna.”
God, his voice! It was a lot
lower than any other man’s voice that I knew and had a way of seeping into my
body when he spoke. Could the sound of a voice be an aphrodisiac? If so, then I
could listen to him read the phone book and probably have an orgasm.
Jasmine cleared her throat and I realized that we’d been
standing staring at each other for longer than was normal. I looked at the
garbage in my hand and then at the garbage can directly behind him. “Umm,
sorry. I just need to . . .”
I’d half-expected him to move to the side so I could
reach it. Instead he stayed put, forcing me to step awkwardly around him. I
clamped my mouth closed as I moved so he wouldn’t be subjected to the stench of
my tuna breath. As I brushed past him, I got a nose full of his aftershave. It
wasn’t a brand that I knew, but he smelled awesome and it always made me a bit
giddy when he was nearby. I could always tell when he’d been in a room, my nose
keenly aware of his lingering scent.
It was only after I finally dropped my garbage into the
bin that Eric moved over to the coffee machines. I wasn’t a close colleague to
him and hadn’t worked on any of his projects since he’d come to the school, so
I didn’t have much I could say to him. Not that he was particularly easy to
speak to with his back to us. I scampered over to the table and grabbed my
things. “I need to stop and get some paper for my printer.”
“Cool.” Jasmine was clearly trying to fight off a
laughing fit. “Want to grab a coffee before we go? You look like you could use
one.”
I’m going to kill
her. “No, I’m good for now.”
Just before we left the kitchen, Jasmine piped up. “Have
a great day, Professor Morris.”
“You as well, Ms. Houng, Glenna.”
Yes, she was going to die in the most painful way
possible.
Somehow I managed to keep my mouth shut until we were out
of earshot. “I hate you.”
“Are you kidding me? For a second I thought he was going
to throw you over the table and fuck you in front of me.”
“You’re high. He doesn’t know me.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. He knew your name, which means he
knows who you are. And you couldn’t see his face the way I did. Not only does
that boy know you’re alive, but he’s interested.”
“Whatever.” She was just trying to get me going. He
couldn’t be interested.
As we were about to turn the corner, I looked back down
the hall toward the kitchen. Eric was standing there, coffee cup in his hand,
staring back at me.
He wasn’t interested, was he?
Until today I didn’t even think he remembered my name.
We were almost back to the office when I heard my cell
phone ringing. I missed it, but when I finally got to my desk and checked, I
saw that there were four missed calls from my mom. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Jasmine turned her seat to face me.
“Not sure yet. Sec. Hey, Mom. Sorry, I was at lunch.”
“Glenna, hon.” It took no time to realize that she’d been
crying.
“What’s wrong? Is it Dad?”
“No, your father’s fine. It’s Great Glenna.”
I closed my eyes and felt the blood drain from my face.
“Oh no.”
“She’s in the
hospital, but the doctors aren’t sure she’s going to make it through the night.
Can you come?”
“Where are you?”
“They took her to St. Joseph’s.”
“I’m on my way.”
Jasmine was on her feet standing in front of me when I
hung up. “Hon, what’s wrong?”
“It’s my great-grandmother. She’s dying.”
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Christine d’Abo is a
romance novelist and short story writer, with over thirty publications to her
name. She loves to exercise and stops writing just long enough to keep her body
in motion too. When she’s not pretending to be a ninja in her basement, she’s
most likely spending time with her husband, daughters, and her two dogs.
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