I Locked My Professor's Office Door, and Left Belonging to Three Men novel · Chapter 10 of 24

Chapter 10: The Footbridge

Hannah's POV

Colin lifted me against the rail of the footbridge with the fog so thick I could not see the far bank.

"Hold on to me," he said, in my ear.

"I am."

"Tighter."

I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, and he took my full weight without a sound.

It was a Tuesday in late November, past ten at night, and the Huron ran black and quiet underneath us.

The lamps along the bridge made soft yellow balls in the mist.

Everything beyond them was gone.

Colin's coat hung open around both of us, and his mouth was hot on my throat.

"Okay," he said. "Oh, yeah. Okay. I've got you."

"I know you do," I said.

"Tell me if you're cold."

"I'm not cold."

I was shaking, but it was not from the weather.

Behind Colin, at the end of the bridge, a tall figure leaned on the rail with his hands in his coat pockets.

Marcello had not said a word since we left the car.

He had walked us down the path from the boathouse lot in silence.

At the head of the bridge he had stopped and said, "I'll keep the end."

Now he stood there in the fog with his glasses beaded with mist, watching.

I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck.

"He's looking," I whispered.

"I know." Colin's mouth moved against my jaw. "I like it."

"You like him watching?"

"I like that he watches you," Colin said. "I like that you let us."

He found the zipper of my jeans.

He did it one-handed, with his other arm hard around my waist, and I gasped as the cold air touched my skin.

He worked the denim down over my hips and my boots and left it hanging from one ankle.

"Colin. Someone could come."

"No one's coming," he said.

"If they do."

"Then they'll see me with the best thing in Ann Arbor," he said, "and they can go home and tell their wives."

I laughed, and he kissed me, and the laugh turned into a moan.

His hand slid between my thighs.

He parted me with two fingers, slowly, and found me wet.

"Oh," he said. "Oh, Hannah. You were ready before I touched you."

"I was ready on the walk."

"On the walk," he said.

"I thought about it the whole way."

He groaned and pushed his fingers into me.

They were thick and warm, and I tipped my head back against the iron post and breathed out into the dark.

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