Spell Cat by Tara Lain Page 0,1
Holy fucking gorgeous, as his students would say. Standing in the doorway was the most breathtaking creature he’d ever seen. Tall—probably a couple of inches over six feet—and slim, with longish, unkempt brown hair and bright eyes that gazed out from behind dark-framed glasses. Jeans and a long-sleeved shirt—professor-style for sure.
Killian reached out with his feelings. Smart, almost scary smart, and viscerally passionate. His favorites. Well, they would have been his favorites if he’d been allowed to have such a thing. He swallowed so hard the guy probably heard it from several feet away. Damn. Why can’t I learn to be cool?
The man’s shaggy head cocked. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m new here. Can you tell me how to get to the physics building?”
Physics. Not my best subject. But right now he needed mechanics to keep his cock from rising. This man seemed to radiate heat even from several feet away, and it lit a fire in places Killian hardly recognized. Standing there with a rapidly rising hard-on came nowhere near cool. “Uh, I, uh, believe it’s directly across the street from here.”
The guy flashed dimples at Killian. “Damn. You’re not the first to say that. I’m not usually so bad at directions. Can you tell me which street? I’ve already been across a couple of streets.”
“The side street, Templeton.”
“Oh.” The stranger produced a wide smile. “Wouldn’t you know I’d choose every street but that one?” He paused as if he was searching for a new topic. “Quite a group I saw leaving here. What’s your subject?”
“Witchcraft.”
The laugh burst out explosively. “You’re joking?”
Gorgeous, but rude. “Not even slightly. I teach the history of witchcraft, among other things.”
“Sorry. Guess that was impolite.”
“Yes, I guess it was.”
The guy cocked his head and peered at Killian over the tops of the black rims. There was a lot of mischief in that handsome face. “Since I’m on a roll with being insulting, I think I’ll go all the way. I hope you won’t think I’m a stalker, but I stood here and watched while your class filed out. You’re about the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. Is there the slightest chance you’re single—and gay?” He ducked and held up his hands as if to deflect a blow, but he never stopped smiling.
Killian arched an eyebrow. A lot of people assumed he was gay because of his long hair and pretty face, but he never confirmed or denied. “Who wants to know?”
The paragon thrust out a slim hand. “Blaine Genneau. New professor of quantum physics.” He grinned wickedly. “Gay professor of quantum physics.”
Killian took that hand and got a flash of heat straight to his balls. Like lightning streaked through the window into his jeans. Extraordinary. He pulled his hand back. Maybe the lightning loosened his tongue. “Killian Barth, professor of history. Gay professor of history.”
He gazed into those eyes. Deep green like ancient Chinese jade. A carved mouth. Just the type he imagined wrapped around his cock in his daydreams. But with one big difference. Killian sighed so deeply, it felt like his heart cracked. Yes, this man was gorgeous. Yes, Killian was gay. In truth, he was dying for a real relationship with a partner who both attracted him and fulfilled him, and if he’d ever been allowed to discover the type of partner he wanted, he knew Blaine Genneau would have fit every parameter—every parameter but one.
He tucked the helmet under his arm. “Good to meet you, Blaine.” He walked past the man and out into the sunshine toward his motorcycle. He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t find out what he’d been missing. Because no matter how perfect this man might be, Killian Barth didn’t do physics professors. In fact, he didn’t do humans. Sex with humans stole his energy and depleted his community, and that wasn’t allowed, because he was the most powerful male witch in ten generations, and he was expected to reproduce.
Jimmy stopped just inside the coffee shop door. His skin buzzed like somebody had put a little vibrator under it. Felt weird, but it happened more and more. Crap, what’s wrong with me? Get a grip. He looked around and spied his three friends in a back booth. This wasn’t his favorite coffee place. There was another one a few blocks from here where he always felt more at home, but his friends picked this one four out of five times. They said the other one was lame and reeked of professor smell.
He walked over to the