Chapters (37)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Also Available from Adriana Herrera
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Author’s Note
- About the Author
- Excerpt
- Carina Press Romance Promise
- About the Dreamers series
- Writing for Carina
- Carina eNewsletter
“If you keep touching me like this, I’m not going to be able to do this homework,” I said as my hand tightened around the notebook and I lifted the other one to his neck. “It’s very hard to focus when your lips are only an inch from my mouth.” I sounded breathless, but who could blame me?
“Okay, sorry,” Patrice said on an exhale and moved a hand to the paper that was now totally crinkled on one side from my tight grip.
“Let’s work on this.” More hot breath on my neck, making me shiver and my skin tighten. “Then I can do unspeakable things to that tattoo.”
I groaned, and tugged on the poor sheet, which was now really at risk of getting torn to smithereens. “Are you sure we can’t do this naked, it’ll be more fun that way.” I could feel his shoulders shaking behind me as he planted a kiss on the top of my head.
“It’s a blessing that I didn’t take up with you until I was almost done with my PhD or I would’ve never finished.”
“Do I bring you to distraction, Professor Denis?” My heart fluttered in my chest like it had wings as I asked, knowing that now I would get the answer I wanted.
“You know you do.” There was nothing in his words other than affection, and maybe just a hint of indulgence. I lifted my face again, needing to respond to his words with a kiss. As I pulled back and settled into his arms I thought of where we’d arrived. Nothing much had changed, and yet it felt like everything was different. Patrice had successfully finished out the academic year. He’d eventually gotten the hang of his classes and with the help of the chair of his department, he’d even started a new research project.
“How was your meeting with Martin?” I asked into the comfortable silence, my body pressed so tightly with his our chests rose and fell in unison.
“It always throws me off that you call him by his first name.” My parents had known Patrice’s boss for years, and it had been a great surprise to hear he’d offered Patrice his personal support after the police stop. Now they were launching a project to research the hindering effects of systemic racism on social mobility for immigrants.
“It’s going well, we got confirmation that we will get the funding for this first phase. So I’ll go south in July to meet with the guys from University of Miami who we’re partnering with. Maybe you can meet me after I’m done. We’ll take a few days after to hang out. Go to Tap Tap.”