Not the professor's "Baby"

HEART OF THE MORNING

Heat of the Morning

When I opened my eyes, the morning sun had turned everything soft and golden. His chest rose and fell beside me, bare and warm, and for a moment I forgot where I was.

Then it all came back: the club, the unisex bathroom, the way his lips had felt on my skin, and how we’d barely made it through the door before we were all over each other.

He shifted, eyes still half-closed, lashes brushing his cheek. His hair was messy, lips parted, and even like this, barely awake, he looked so unfairly good.

"Morning," he murmured, voice still rough from sleep.

"Morning," I whispered, my cheeks heating.

"You sleep okay?"

"Yeah… surprisingly well," I admitted, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

His lips curved into a small, lazy smile. "Good."

For a moment, we just lay there, breathing the same air. His hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from my face, fingertips lingering against my cheek.

"Come here," he whispered.

Before I could think, his mouth was on mine. Slow at first, like he was tasting, remembering. But heat rose so quickly that my chest tightened, and my fingers found his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Daniel…" I breathed against his lips.

"Say it again," he murmured, his voice low, eyes darkening as he kissed the corner of my mouth, then down to my jaw.

"Daniel," I repeated, a shiver running down my spine.

His hand slid down my side, tracing the curve of my waist, then lower, until his fingers brushed between my thighs.

"You’re already wet," he whispered, voice full of teasing warmth.

"You make it hard not to be," I shot back, surprising myself.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against my skin, and then he kissed me deeper, tongue slipping between my lips, making my breath catch.

"Do you want me?" he asked, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes.

"Yes," I whispered, barely able to say it aloud.

His hand moved to guide himself to my entrance, the head brushing against me, hot and heavy.

"Wait… do you…?" I started to ask, words catching in my throat.

"s**t," he muttered, glancing at the nightstand. "I thought I had one here."

But before either of us could think longer, he kissed me again, and the heat drowned everything else. My hips tilted toward him, legs parting without hesitation.

And then he pushed in, slow, bare, stretching me until my breath turned into a broken gasp.

"f**k," he groaned, voice shaking. "You feel so good."

"Oh my god… Daniel," I moaned, my hands gripping his shoulders.

He moved deeper, filling me completely, the raw slide of him inside me making my head spin.

Neither of us stopped to say anything else. The need was too sharp, too desperate.

His thrusts started slow, each one dragging against my walls, making my legs tremble. My hips met his without thinking, the heat curling tighter in my stomach.

"Look at me," he whispered, breath hot against my cheek.

I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. His hair was messy, sweat shining on his skin, and the look in his eyes made my chest twist painfully.

"Don’t stop," I whispered back.

"f**k… you’re perfect," he murmured, thrusting deeper.

My body shook, the pleasure building until my back arched and a cry tore from my throat.

"Daniel… I’m gonna—"

"Let go, baby," he whispered.

And I did. My orgasm hit so hard my vision blurred, walls tightening around him. His pace stuttered, a groan rumbling low in his chest as he spilled inside me, still buried deep.

For a few seconds, there was nothing but the sound of our breathing and the pounding of my heart.

Then reality crept back. My phone buzzed somewhere on the floor.

"s**t," I muttered, scrambling for it.

"Hey, easy," he said softly, amusement in his eyes.

I picked it up, my heart still racing. Zina’s name flashed on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Girl, where the hell are you?" Zina’s voice was half-annoyed, half-worried.

"I… I stayed over somewhere," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Somewhere?"

"I’ll explain later. Can I call you back?"

"Fine, but spill everything later. And text me your location!"

"I will. Bye."

I dropped the phone on the bed, cheeks flushed.

"Everything okay?" he asked, pushing damp hair off his forehead.

"Yeah… just my friend. She worries," I murmured.

He nodded, his gaze lingering on me. "I’m glad you stayed."

"Me too," I admitted quietly, surprising even myself.

For a moment, we just looked at each other. His expression softened, and he reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

"I’d like to see you again," he said, voice low, almost hesitant.

I swallowed. "You do?"

"Yeah. If you want to, of course," he added, his tone careful.

I bit my lip, heart racing. "I… I think I’d like that."

His smile was small but real. "Good."

Neither of us knew the truth yet. That he was the new English professor starting next week at South California University. That I was just a second-year student there, about to walk into his class without warning.

In that moment, it felt simple.

I stood, wrapping the sheet around myself. My legs still felt weak from everything.

"I should go. My friend will panic," I said softly.

"I can drop you off," he offered, sitting up, the sheet pooling around his waist.

"No… I’ll call a cab. It’s fine."

He looked like he wanted to insist, but nodded. "Okay."

I turned to pick up my dress, cheeks flushing as I caught sight of the mess we’d made on the sheets.

"Michelle," he called gently.

I turned.

"You forgot something."

He tossed me my panties, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Right," I muttered, feeling my face burn as I grabbed them.

At the door, I hesitated. "Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you… for… last night. And this morning."

His expression softened, eyes locking onto mine. "No, thank you."

For a moment, neither of us moved. Then I stepped out, my heart pounding, head spinning with everything that had happened. This was crazy. I actually slept with an older man and it was so freaking good and he wants to see me again. I think I love this life a little too much.