Later, he would blame everything on his sleep-deprivation. He would blame his sleep-deprivation for writing what he would have never written had he not been so damn tired, hungry, and angry.
Shawn turned in his “assignment” exactly ten minutes later and walked back to his desk. He wasn’t even halfway to his desk when Rutledge said, his voice very soft, “Mr. Wyatt, my office after your classes.”
His mouth dry, Shawn nodded.
Idiot, he told himself. He shouldn’t have let his temper get the better of him.
* * *
When his classes were over, Shawn headed to Rutledge’s office, as ordered.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the familiar door.
“Enter.”
Shawn went inside and closed the door carefully.
Then he walked to Rutledge’s desk.
“Well?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Slowly, Rutledge looked up. The expression on his face was positively stony as he moved a piece of paper towards Shawn—the “assignment” he had turned in. “What is the meaning of this?”
Shawn picked up the paper and reread the single sentence written on it, as though he didn’t know what it said.
Do you want to fail me so I have no choice but to suck your dick again?
Inwardly, Shawn was cringing a bit. He couldn’t believe he’d lost his temper and actually written that.
But aloud, he said, “Can’t you read, sir?” Only a few days ago, he wouldn’t have dared to use this cocky tone with Rutledge, but apparently having had the guy’s dick in his mouth did wonders.
Rutledge stood up and walked to him.
He came to a halt only a few inches away.
Shawn didn’t move, refusing to be intimidated.
“I can have you expelled for this,” Rutledge said.
“Sure, but it will get you fired and your career tarnished when everyone finds out you’re trading grades for sex.”
Rutledge grabbed his neck. “You little shit.” His hand tightened on his throat. “Are you threatening me?”
“No,” Shawn croaked out. “I just really dislike being bullied. I didn’t force you to shove your dick into my mouth,Professor.”
Rutledge’s nostrils flared. He didn’t say anything, the muscles in his jaw working.
“Seriously, what’s your problem with me?” Shawn said, struggling to breathe through the pressure of Rutledge’s grip. “I can’t be the only student you used. I’m not proud of what I did, but it was a fair deal: we both got something out of it. Why are you always on my back?”
“I never trade grades for sex,” Rutledge ground out. “You were the only exception.”
Shawn blinked. “What? But I heard—”
“Yes, I get offers all the time, but I report everyone who’s stupid enough to suggest it outright. Do I look like someone who would trade grades for anything, Wyatt?”
Well, no. That was why Shawn had had trouble believing it when Christian had told him the rumor.
“But then…” Shawn studied Rutledge. “Then what about me? Why me?”
