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Professor Kane 12

Authors Comments: L.O.V.E. Under pressure.
Romance Created on 8-11-08 Views(204) Story Rating PG13

By the time we arrived at the apartment, we were both cold and shaking.  Kane carried me into my bedroom, despite my protests, and then told Rachel to undress me and wrap me in a warm blanket, and fix me some hot tea.  I smiled slightly at the way Rachel, normally bossy and contentious and insubordinate, quickly did the bidding of Kane, who was so effortlessly commanding.  I was beginning to think no one would mind being his slave.  I was also beginning to think I was commanding myself in his presence, as I had in a sense possessed a part of him.  I had heard him tell Rachel he would come back to check on me after he changed out of his wet clothes, but I had drifted off to sleep before he returned. 

 

I woke again some time in the early morning.  It was still pitch black outside, but there was a dim light filling the room, provided by the antique lamp on my dresser.  A wool blanket was wrapped around my naked body, and my hair was still damp, curling now around my neck and shoulders, and between my breasts.  I turned over, gathering the heavy waves away from my skin, and ridding myself of the burden.  I was about to shed the blanket away as well, for the room was hot, but in the process I caught view of a man sitting in a chair beside the bed.  I inhaled a little in surprise and recovered my blanket, but as my eyes refocused I realized that it was Kane.  Not only had he come back to check on me, but he had stayed to watch over me, and he was now asleep in a chair much too small and uncomfortable for his large frame.  He was dressed only in sweatpants, and his t-shirt rested on the floor beside his chair, no doubt because he had been hot as well, and had rid himself of it.  His long legs were spread out before him carelessly, his arms crossed over his stomach, which was hard even as he slept, and his head was resting partially on the immense breadth of a shoulder, and partially on the back of the chair.  The vision of him like this was enough to momentarily take my mind off of my circumstances.  His skin wasn’t necessarily bronzed, but because his hair was dark, and because he gave off such a mysterious aura much of the time, and because he was so large and lean looking, he gave the impression of a panther at rest.  I couldn’t help but look at him.  His face looked softer as he slept.  The green eyes of his made his chiseled angles seem even sharper when he was awake, but when his eyes were closed, and when his long, dark lashes shaded the tops of his cheeks like a furry blanket, he seemed untroubled and almost boyish.  I wondered what he had looked like when he had been a boy. 

 

Suddenly he took a deep breath and shifted himself on the chair, making a face of discomfort.  His eyes opened slightly, and he must have caught sight of me in the process, because he abruptly jerked upright.  His eyes were squinting, but his brow was drawn as he looked upon me, almost peeved at himself that he had fallen asleep at all. 

 

“You alright?” he asked groggily. 

 

I nodded slightly, but my brows were drawn as well.

 

“I doona know if ye heard, but I promised Rachel I’d come and look after ye.  I’m sorry if I surprised ye” he added, rubbing his eyes. 

 

“No” I said quickly, “You didn’t.”  I thought of the things he had told me earlier in the rain, especially the thing he had said about my father already having met my future husband.  I raised my eyes to his and kept them there, and though I said nothing, and though I was dressed in nothing but a woolen blanket, there was nothing awkward about the silence and the circumstance.  With his forearms on his knees, he returned the stare, and with much the same emotion. 

 

I felt the heat creep up my chest, and my neck, and into my cheeks.  And this time it wasn’t just from the temperature of the room, but from the look he was giving me.  But I kept my eyes fixed on his.  “Thank you” I heard myself whisper, “Thank you for being here for me.”

 

“It was my pleasure” he answered as he continued to look at me, “not to see you hurting, but to see you cared for and…and ah…comforted.”  He trailed off toward the end of his statement, and my heart had jumped a beat, as I imagined that he was about to say that he had wanted to see me cared for and “loved”.  But I quickly forced myself to stop thinking idealistically.  And the reality of my circumstances quickly brought me away from those thoughts.  I broke away from his gaze just as he stood to pick up his discarded shirt, and to stretch.  I caught a glimpse of his spectacular physique out of my periphery as he reached his arms skyward, but I forced myself to turn completely after this, as I did not think it the right time to be feeling lustful.  And one gaze at him would surely make any woman subconsciously shameless. 

 

He walked around the bed until he was just a few steps away from the door.  I knew he was trying to prepare himself to leave, as he felt that was the proper thing to do.  He had already not intended to stay so long, I’m sure.  He stopped before he got to the door and studied the ground.  I could see his jaw muscles quivering even in the dark lighting. 

 

“Kane” I whispered. 

 

He lifted his head and looked straight before him.  He had known I would say something.  And I knew he had wanted me to.  Why else would he have stopped before he got to the door? 

 

“Don’t leave me” I said simply. 

 

He closed his eyes.  It was just what he did and didn’t want me to say. 

 

“”Look at me” I beseeched. 

 

He swallowed, and then slowly complied. 

 

“Come here” I commanded on a shaken whisper. 

 

He slowly came, eyes not leaving mine, now that they had finally rested there.  He kept walking until he had reached the edge of the bed.  The woodsy scent of his flesh reached me, and I felt a burning somewhere deep within.  I sat with my legs tucked underneath my on the bed, wrapped in the forest green wool blanket, my toffee-colored hair waving around my shoulders and down my back to my midsection.  I’m sure I looked like a hellcat.  I’m sure I looked tantalizing to him, and I’m sure it wasn’t pure to tempt him like so, or to allow myself to be tempted like so.  But the feelings raging within me were not just lust.  They ran far deeper.  They were comprised of trust and love, two of the most powerful intangible emotions between two people.  I needed and wanted him to stay because I trusted him and because I loved him. 

 

“Hold me” I commanded again, so soft that I could barely be heard.  But since he was looking into my eyes, he read me accurately. 

 

His fingers opened and his shirt fell onto the floor again, as if they had decided what to do before his mind had.  I imagined that his fingers had followed the word of his heart.  I much preferred it sometimes when his mind didn’t get in the way. 

 

On this night, however, his mind would be the conquered.  I watched him as he came forward onto the bed, one knee at a time, until he sat before me.  He reached out to hold my face in his hand, running his thumb back and forth alongside my cheek.  Then his fingers spread into the hair at the base of my neck, and tilted my head up towards him.  His other hand came around my waist and pulled me out of my position and fully against him.  I closed my eyes, waiting for his lips to touch mine, nearly shaking with the want of it.  His descent was torturously slow, but the quickness of his breathing stirred my passion, and when he finally arrived, I was ready and forceful.  Both of my hands shoved into his hair, and I arched myself into his body and pulled him back against me so fervently that I began to lose my sense of balance.  He was holding me so firmly and kissing me so vigorously that I felt like he was instigating the action more than I was, but he was only slowing my fall towards the pillow, and lowering himself with me, until I was lying flat against the bed and he was lying on top of me.  The blanket was keeping me bound, and I arched upwards to make it looser, in the process my legs coming free enough for me to lift them and wrap them around his hips.  There was nothing there but bare skin, as his sweatpants had ridden down a bit, and the feel of his warm skin against my own made me wild.  I arched upwards again, this time not thinking of the blanket, and my fingers grabbed at his flanks and slowly ran up the length of his back, until they came to a stop, clutching his broad shoulders.  I heard him take a strained breath in the crook of my heck, and then he circled his hips forcefully into mine.  The pressure of his hips against my own was too delicious for me to remain still, and I began moving underneath him to match him. 

 

He forced one arm up under my neck and kissed me hard as he slid another arms, just as forceful, around my back.  This had all seemed like second nature to me, and so naturally was I responding to him, and he to me, that I didn’t understand why people had ever thought they needed to practice to be good at it.  It was so natural, that I didn’t even realize that he was touching my bare skin until his stomach came down upon my stomach.  In his quest to grab me around the waist, the blanket had opened, and now our torsos were completely skin against skin.  And the feeling of it, instead of frightening moral sense into me, made me bend even closer to him, and a low sound of pleasure escaped me before I could control myself.  His large hand ran across my naked skin, almost completely spanning the crook in my lower back.  His mouth descended in correlation to his hand, and just as his fingers dug into the softness of my hips, his stubble grazed my breast, and then his mouth devoured it.  I immediately gasped and then cried out with pleasure, one hand holding his head against me and the other digging into the flesh of his back. 

 

My reaction must have been a wake up call for him, because when he heard it, he quickly stopped, pulling himself up and burying his head into the crook of my neck again.  We both lay still, breathing heavily, me in disbelief, and he, knowing him, with guilt. 

 

I ran my fingers lightly against his back.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“I just canna nae do this to you” he breathed the admission with anguish and frustration, “not now, and not in your position, and in our position, and…well I doona want to soil you either, in case there be another man who would suit ye better than me.”

 

I closed my eyes as they began to fill up with tears.  So easily they came for me, and especially when this man spoke.  His soul moved me, and was in perfect tandem with my own.  “I don’t think it is possible for another man to suit me better,” I whispered. 

 

He sighed, and began to pull away from me, but my arms came around him soundly to prevent him from moving any further.  “Don’t” I said, almost harshly, “Don’t deny me this time like you did last time.”  He looked at me with surprise.  My tone became more beseeching.  “I won’t touch you, and I’ll move to the other corner of the bed, but please just don’t leave, or give me that horrible look.”

 

He lowered his head, and right after re-wrapping me within the blanket, he lowered himself onto me again, but only long enough to grab me around the waist, and pull me with him so that he was on his side and I was comfortably tucked against his chest, our legs intertwined.  “I willna leave” he said softly, after some time, “I amna strong enough tae do tha’ anymore.” 

 

His presence and his words took my mind away from my troubles, but it was only so long before the worry over my father’s poor health began to creep back into my mind, and I went from relaxed in his arms to tense. 

 

“Are ye thinkin’ about your father?” Kane asked me, as he absently stroked my hair.

 

“Yeah” I admitted. 

 

“Would it help you tae talk about him?” He asked me. 

 

I looked up at him and furrowed my brows. 

 

“Ye know, in better times.  Like when he took ye places and taught ye things.” He explained.  “Or would ye rather just sleep?”

 

Sleep had been an off and on occasion all morning.  I would fall asleep, wake up and freak out, only to inevitably fall asleep again.  So I figured staying awake, at least now, couldn’t hurt me, and putting my mind on happier thoughts instead of sad ones might even make me laugh a bit. 

 

“No, I…I’d like to talk about it” I answered.  “I just don’t know how to start.”

 

He smiled a bit.  “Weel, how bout I tell ye a story about my mother, then.  Maybe that will get ye started.” 

 

I nodded, smiling a bit with him. 

 

He laughed out loud before he started the story.  “My mother was had verra pale skin.  She was tall and beautiful, and had the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen…”

 

“Like yours?” I interrupted.

 

He smiled, “Ah, no, they looked more like yours.  A softer green…with blue in them.  But she always complained about how pale her skin was.  It wasna the trend to be pale as porcelain then, and nor is it now.  But she refused to go sunning just because she knew it was bad for her.”

 

“Same with me” I added derisively, “pale skin is a nuisance.”

 

“No” he said, “your pale skin is beautiful.  Why is it tha’ the most beautiful of women never can see it?” 

 

I lifted a brow as if to disagree, but he merely smiled and went on.  “She took me in to the market one day.  It was the first warm day of the year, and so she dressed for the occasion, in shorts and a t-shirt.  I remember walking with her down a gravel road, and we passed a large group of men.  They were likely still drunk from the night before; they were being too raucous for mornin’ otherwise.  But the biggest of them came towards my mum, and said ‘Hey, ye look like Casper the Ghost!’”

 

“I would have stabbed him with a knife” I said, laughing. 

 

“Oh, I’m sure she felt like it.  But it gets better.  She stopped after she heard him, and then she slowly turned around.  And without missing a single second’s time, she said back to him, ‘Hey ye have a beer gut!’”

 

I burst out laughing, “Good one.  I commend her.  What did he do?”

 

“He just kind of stood there, duped, and the alcohol made him too slow to formulate a good comeback.”

 

“And what about you?  Didn’t you do anything to defend your mother?” I asked him, smiling a bit.

 

“Ach, weel of carse!  I threw a pebble at him as we walked away” he said, and we both laughed. 

 

“Your turn” he said, nudging me. 

 

We stayed up most of the night like this, just talking about our families and sharing stories.  Before we drifted off to sleep in the morning, I knew that he had three brothers, Colin, Johnnie, and Robbie, the latter two being twins.  Colin was a businessman, Johnnie an aimless wanderer and outlaw, and Robbie the leader singer and guitarist in a band.  In his free time with family, he fenced with Colin, played rugby with the other two, and rode horses, hunted, and played chess with his father.  He was delighted to learn that I had been riding horses all my life, ever since I was three, and promised to take me cross country one day soon.  “Soon” remained ambiguous, but his promise comforted me.  He told me that their favorite holiday used to be Christmas when his mother was alive, but ever since his mother had died before Christmas several years before, they had never felt the same about it.  So instead of having a big Christmas party every year, they had a big New Years party.  I felt sorry when I heard this.  Five men in one household during Christmas with no woman to cook them turkey and stuffing, or to sing the soprano part in their Carol of the Bells rants, or to kiss them underneath mistletoe, before the fire, and later on in bed.  I told myself that if I ever had the privilege of spending Christmas with Kane’s family, I would change that.  I would celebrate their mother’s memory instead of tucking it away.  But I kept my thoughts to myself.  I learned instead that Kane’s favorite desert was shortbread, and that he only drank coffee in the morning because if he drank it at night he would never sleep.  I cocked my brow upon these admissions, as I was sure my Kentucky Bourbon Balls and Rum Cider would wow her far more than mere shortbread and coffee.  He told me he was a carbon copy of his father in physique and in nature, whose name was also Lachlan Kane MacAllister.  Furthermore, his father’s house was hundreds of years old, made of stone, and had turrets.  When I discovered this, I nearly peed all over both of us. 

 

I told him about my younger brother, Taylor, who, as opposed to me, was a carbon copy of our mother: assertive, gregarious, and perhaps slightly officious.  This aspect of him, and of course his artistic flare, made him a spectacular photographer, and he was seeking a career in sales and advertisement.  I told him that the reason I had become a historian was because my family name was “Irvine”, and this was the name of a Scottish clan.  I had Scottish ancestors, and wanted to explore their world, and ultimately write their history.  My father, also a sentimental historian at heart despite the fact that his career was in farming, had been the encouragement behind my goals.  He had also been the one who had taught me to ride a bike, and to ride a horse, to drive a tractor, to identify birds by their calls, and trees by their leaves, to dance in the rain, to fish, to grow a vegetable garden, to hunt, to play a mean game of Texas Hold ‘em, to beat all the boys in basketball and in track, and to never sweat the small things.  The last part still had not sunk in, as I believed I had a bit of my mother’s fiery temper in me.  My retorts often came sooner than I could control them, and most of the time had to do with my insecurities. 

 

Ultimately, as long as he was there, and we were laughing and talking, I felt like everything in my life would be alright.  But I knew that in a few hours, he would leave and go back to his apartment, and I would buy my plane ticket, which would lead to my going home.  The thought of this was like dark thunderclouds overtop our sunny hour, and I pushed it aside as my eyes fluttered closed next to his warm body.  If but nothing else…I had a few more hours. 

Comments

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On September 18th 2008 AshleyAE44 Said :
AshleyAE44 You are doing an excellent job!
On August 14th 2008 afunkysippycup Said :
afunkysippycup LOL nice keep em coming! love this story!!!
On August 13th 2008 HSandyI Said :
HSandyI loves it! cant wait for more
On August 12th 2008 justthegirlxox Said :
justthegirlxox loved it. (: as always!