Profess Your Love

  Profess Your Love

  An interracial erotic romance (BW/WM)

  --Renee LaRuse--

  Professor Rakell Dunn, 34, is one year into being single after the end of an unhealthy 13-year marriage, and seven years into a comfortable teaching position at a community college in Philadelphia. Her nonexistent love life and her humdrum work life are transformed once her hot Polish American student Jerzy Piotrowsky, 23, seduces her. His maturity, thoughtfulness and success take cynical Rakell by surprise. Their strong connection quickly leads to sizzling sex. Just when Rakell and Jerzy profess to each other their mutual desire for commitment, they learn that their secret affair might be revealed to the school and to the public. Their trust, confidence, and loyalty are put to the test. If they can pass it, the prize is an unforgettable lasting love.

  A ReneeRomance eBook

  ReneeRomance.com

  Copyright © Renée LaRuse 2011

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, by photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission in writing from the author.

  I

  On the first day of the spring semester, Professor Rakell Dunn’s dark brown eyes scanned the pictures of Russian museums, palaces, gardens and city squares on the computer screen in front of her. Her elbow on the computer stand and her fist under her chin, she glanced away from the screen and at the students trickling into the lecture hall. Every year, every semester, the group of new students looked exactly the same as the one before. And it had been seven years. Seven years of her life had been spent teaching to the underwhelming students of the Simmons County Community College in Pennsylvania. Seven years of wearing a uniform of long pencil skirts and demure heels, and wearing her hair up in a claw clip. Rakell’s focus drifted back to the images on the computer. Since she was a junior in high school she had dreamed of backpacking across Europe. She’d start in Spain, go to France, hop over to the Netherlands, say hello to the Swedes, explore Russia, tour Turkey, fatten up in Greece and then walk it all off in Italy. The nations in that part of the world had such a richness of history and culture and a simple approach to happiness: food, fresh air, and family.

  She’d wanted to go Amsterdam for her honeymoon. She mentioned it whenever possible after Marshall proposed to her. One of the reasons she married Marshall was because he was successful enough as a lawyer that he could travel every year if he wanted to. Rakell had never had the time or the money during college and graduate school to visit her favorite continent. After the wedding, Marshall surprised Rakell with a honeymoon trip to Vegas. Looking back, that honeymoon was the first red flag that their entire marriage was going to revolve around his needs. Her bank account was always at six digits, but her emotional and physical needs were swatted aside, including her dream of traveling and her desire to have children. Marshall was disgusted by what he coined her “needy, miserable bullshit”. Like a forgotten house plant, she withered away in the large house they shared. She’d been divorced from him a year and a half and now lived in her own townhouse, but she still felt like Marshall’s wife, a woman who should be grateful for whatever someone was kind enough to fling her way.

  Her eyes brightened as she scrolled down a webpage full of photographs of St. Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow. Its whimsical domes, shaped like pearl onions and decorated with bright colors, made it such a magical and iconic building. Rakell thought it looked like a place chocolate and candy would be made. A trip to Europe would be amazing…if she were 15 years younger and 20 pounds lighter. At 34 years old, she’d only make a fool of herself trying to keep up with the other young trekkers. Her left knee was going bad, she couldn’t handle her liquor and her bedtime was 10.

  The sound of whispers pulled Rakell’s gaze away from the computer screen. She was surprised to see the room was filled with students. She looked at the time on the computer screen: 9:35. Class was supposed to start at 9:25. Her face went hot. How long had all these kids been staring at her? She immediately straightened, closed the browser and walked from behind the computer stand. Tugging nervously at her dark gray pencil skirt, she put on a smile. “Welcome, class, to English Lit 2016. I’m Professor Rakell Dunn…” Her bare feet stepped onto the laminated wood at the edge of the platform. She looked down at her naked feet. “And I should be wearing shoes,” she thought aloud. The students chuckled as she ran tip-toed back to the computer stand and slipped her feet into her black suede kitten heels. “Where was I?” The blush on her cheeks slowly faded away as she gave the students an introduction to the class, explaining the syllabus and answering questions about what to expect of exams and writing assignments. Lastly, she began the mandatory first day roll call. There were 92 students in her class. Roll would take a while. Three quarters of the way down the list, she came upon a decidedly western European name.

  “Jerzy Piotrowsky?” She smiled a little at how the name felt rolling off her tongue. Rakell looked down from the platform to see a handsome young student sitting in the front row smile at her and nod. Rakell’s eyes danced down his form, from head to toe, taking it all in. Short dark brown hair in sleek waves, sparkling green eyes, soft lips, chiseled jaw and cheekbones, a light beard, toned biceps and long legs; all of it made her jaw go slack. When he spoke, the timbre of his voice made her stomach flutter.

  “I appreciate that you said it correctly, with the J pronounced like a Y, but I actually prefer it to be pronounced incorrectly. I’ve gotten used to it,” he chuckled. He didn’t have much of a European accent. His speech was very American, but there was still an exotic air about him, a unique cadence to his voice.

  Rakell felt her face heat up for the third time that morning. She smiled shyly. “Jerzy it is.” She saw his green eyes trail down her smooth brown legs. He met her eyes again. His gorgeous friendly smile became seductive. Rakell looked quickly down at the attendance sheet. It took her longer than it should have to find where she’d left off. She could feel all the students staring at her, especially Jerzy. She cleared her throat. “Jenna Polito?”

  At the end of class, Rakell walked down the steps from the stage to the lecture room floor and stood waiting for any students who might have more questions. She fiddled with her nails as she held her hands behind her back. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Jerzy standing up from his seat. She didn’t let herself look at him. Most of the students bustled out the door, but a studious-looking redhead walked up to her while adjusting his loaded backpack.

  “Hi, Professor Dunn. Tim McAllister. I’m really looking forward to your class. I was wondering…” His nervous eyes fell to the shoulder of Rakell’s white blouse. “Would you happen to have a copy of the first book on the syllabus that I could borrow for the beginning of the semester? I won’t be able to, um, afford any more textbooks. I just started a new job and I won’t get paid until next week, and my financial aid…”

  “Tim, I understand. No need to explain. I was a college student once. I wouldn’t mind giving you a copy of mine, but it’s at home. I promise to bring it to campus tomorrow during my office hours, 3:30 to 4:45 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I could give it to you then. Is that okay?”

  “Excuse me,” Jerzy interjected. Rakell held her breath as he walked towards her. He wore a burgundy V-neck shirt and dark jeans. The strap of his khaki messenger bag hugged across his broad chest. He glanced at her a second and then turned his eyes to Tim. “I couldn’t help overhearing. I could buy the books for you if you want, dude. If you’re like me you want your own book. You want to be the first person to truly appreciate it, to scan your eyes across the smooth crisp pages, bury your nose in it for the new book smell, have the authority to be a little rough
with it if you want, you know, dog-ear some pages, underline good lines, and write your name inside the front cover so that everyone knows it’s yours and yours alone to enjoy.” Jerzy gave Rakell a quick, hot glance.

  Rakell swallowed. Everything about her new student was dangerous and sensual. The way he described a new book… Rakell sobered herself. He couldn’t have been suggesting something about her. She wasn’t a ‘new book’. She was an old, banged-up book with a creased cover and yellowing pages.

  Tim looked at Jerzy, shocked by his offer. “I appreciate that you want to help, but I can’t accept it. That’s too much, man. I’ll be okay.”

  “No, it’s not too much. Don’t think about the money. I run my own business, I’m good, trust me. This is a win-win situation. It’ll make my day.”

  “Uh…” Tim looked at Rakell for guidance. She shrugged her shoulder and nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll take you up on that. Thanks!” He held out his hand to shake Jerzy’s. “Tim McAllister.”

  “Jerzy Piotrowsky, but you can call me JP.” He shook Tim’s hand firmly. “I’ll meet you at the bookstore in five minutes. I need to speak with Professor Dunn here.”

  “Alright. Have a good day, Professor Dunn.”

  “You too, Tim.”

  As soon as Tim turned around to walk away, Jerzy stood directly in front of Rakell. His height and beautiful green eyes made her nervous.

  “Mrs. Dunn. I’m very excited about taking your class this semester.” He smiled.

  Her jaw clenched. “It’s Ms. Dunn.”

  “Mmm. Divorced?”

  Rakell narrowed her eyes. “Yes. How did you know that and why is it any of your business?”

  “I assumed that a woman like you had men chasing her down the street with engagement rings.”

  “You assume wrong. Bookish black women are not a hot commodity. Never was and probably never will be.”

  “A beautiful woman is a beautiful woman, no matter her skin color and no matter how much she tries to hide behind her work.”

  Rakell swallowed. “You should go. Tim is waiting for you.”

  “Tim can wait.”

  “Then I’ll go.” Rakell walked quickly to the platform steps. She felt Jerzy’s eyes on her as she climbed them, went to the computer stand, and gathered her things. As she walked out the back door of the lecture room she heard his disappointed goodbye.

  “See you later, Professor Dunn.”

  II

  The following day, Rakell sat at her desk in her small office. Bored, she opened a drawer in the desk and fished out a bottle of pink grapefruit colored nail polish. She kicked off her tan kitten heels and propped her foot up on the side of the open drawer. Rakell leaned over and began to paint her toes. It was the beginning of the semester. Students never visited her during office hours unless they had a grade to complain about. She’d have almost two hours to do absolutely nothing. And as always, when she had nothing to do she thought about absolutely everything. Back in college, she’d imagined that in her thirties she would be living a vibrant life full of love, success, adventure and family. In all four of those areas she’d failed.

  Family: Her mother and older brother were still in Texas and still zealots. Growing up in a strict, evangelist home had pushed her to the edge of insanity. Guilt, fear, shame and self-hatred birthed suicidal thoughts. When she’d finally had enough of her mother and brother’s damnation rants, she took a hint from her absent father. She packed her meager belongings, got into her ’89 Nissan Pulsar and started driving north. The goal was New York, but her car conked out in Pennsylvania.

  While waiting tables in Philly to save up money for NY, she met Marshall. He was handsome, well-off and interested in her. He flew her out to New York for a shopping spree on their second date. It wasn’t long before she lost her virginity to him. When he asked her to marry him, she agreed partly because she felt a moral obligation to do so. Marshall changed after they got married. Before, he wanted lots of kids. After, he said he wasn’t ready, too busy with work and later said he didn’t want to have kids because he didn’t think she was competent enough to raise a child since she didn’t cook or clean “like his mother did”. Yet, somewhere in between their arguing about starting a family, Marshall managed to get another woman pregnant during their marriage.

  Success: Rakell could’ve been teaching at a university and making a bigger salary a long time ago, but Marshall had refused to move. Now, her self-esteem was so low that she wasn’t sure she could handle the rejection if she applied to a university and was denied. In her mind, it was better to stay here at the community college where she felt safe…even if she was also miserable.

  Adventure: Besides her road trip from Texas to PA, a shopping trip to New York and a honeymoon in Vegas, she hadn’t experienced her idea of an adventure. She wanted to go to other countries. See more of the world. But she didn’t want to do it alone.

  Love: Maybe she would always be alone. After her divorce was final, she went on a dating spree. What she found was pig after pig, dog after dog. She didn’t want to have sex until she knew more about a guy, but the guys she met wanted it the other way around and grew bored with her and acted downright disrespectful when they couldn’t get any. She thought she was once in love with Marshall, but it hadn’t been true love. Rakell was looking for real love, like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. Magnetic, electrified puzzle pieces. Magnetic, electrified, puzzle pieces that had glittery wings and Cupid arrows. Rakell laughed at her weird imagination. Her smile faded away. It seemed like true love was just as imaginary as the puzzle pieces. Men didn’t want anything beautiful and lasting. They just wanted to screw and have fun. Rakell was beginning to think she should, too.

  Why was she acting as though she was still a virgin? Her body wasn’t going to look any better with each passing year, so why not enjoy it now? Why not celebrate her freedom and femininity? It was a waste of time to sit around and be consumed with passion, waiting for Mr. Right, when all she would ever get was a Mr. SlamBamThankYouMa’am. What she needed was a Mr. SBTYM who could make her grin and say, “No. Thank you!” And if he looked like that Piotrowsky kid, she would greatly appreciate it. An older, more mature, much less arrogant and non-student Piotrowsky would be perfect. Or would it? She’d probably feel just as insecure, uncomfortable and afraid as she felt around her sexy student.

  A knock at the door startled her. Her hand jumped, causing her to paint her entire pinky toe with nail polish. “Damn.” She reached across her desk and quickly grabbed a tissue to wipe it off. “Come in!” she called to the person at the door as she bent over her foot and cleaned away the excess nail polish. She sat up in her chair to find Jerzy standing in the doorway, wearing an open blue vest over a white V-neck shirt and light blue jeans. A small black knapsack was hanging off one muscled shoulder. Rakell’s face drained. She swiveled too quickly when she turned her chair. Her bad knee smacked into the side of the desk. She gasped, balled her hand into a fist and then bit down on it to stifle a cry of pain.

  Jerzy closed the door behind him. “Are you okay?” He rushed around the desk and knelt beside her. “Was it this knee?” He massaged at her knee with the warm fingertips of his large hand. The sensation was electric. Rakell gave his hand a hard slap. He pulled the hand away, but he remained on his knee in front of her, watching her face. Eventually she dropped her fist from her mouth and inhaled a few breaths.

  “Better?”

  She nodded, not looking at him.

  Jerzy’s eyes scanned down her body as he stood up and walked from behind the desk. He smiled. “I like the new color on your toes.”

  “What do you want, Mr. Piotrowsky?” Her eyes snagged onto the sight of his white shirt sleeves stretched by his lightly tanned biceps, and the way his jeans hugged just right onto his backside.

  He plopped down into the chair in front of her desk. “That’s a deep question. Could you be more specific?”

  She rolled her eyes. “What do you want from me?”
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  His green eyes sparkled with mischief. “I want you to know that Shakespeare, Milton and Swift are my favorite writers, so I am sure I’m going to love being in your class.”

  Rakell chewed on the inside of her lip and blinked at him. “That’s nice. Those are some of my favorites as well. Is that all you wanted to say?”

  “No.” His expression became serious. “I think that…there is something you need that I would be more than willing to give you.”

  Shivers traveled up Rakell’s legs. “W-what?”

  “You just have to tell me what it is.”

  She stared at him, dumbfounded.

  “Don’t you think we would very much appreciate each other on an intimate level? I’ve already planned some passionate evenings for us in my mind, but I’m always willing to negotiate.”

  “Holy shit! You’re a gigolo?!” Her fiery Texas twang emerged. “How dare you! Just because you’re young and attractive you think you can take advantage of older women? Get out of my office!”