Page 87 of Pucking Good Girl

I nod, clasping his shoulder and opening the passenger door for Talia. Becks and I have never seen eye-to-eye since I can remember. But since we both fell for Talia, we’ve been finding common ground more often than not.

It’s all because of her. Her love doesn’t just make us happy; it’s bringing us together when nothing else, not even hockey, ever could.

Will we be able to remain this close when we unavoidably go our separate ways and Talia makes her choice?

There’s no way to tell. But a part of me wishes that things could stay like this forever.

CHAPTER 21

THE HONEY TRAP

Talia

Two days later.

“Here goes nothing,” I whisper to myself as I knock on Professor Cantucci’s office door.

“Come on in.” Victor calls out.

I pull at the hem of my dress, rethinking my choice of clothes. Maybe the short dress is overkill, but I have to sell something and I have to talk the talk and dress like I’m here to walk the walk.

Victor is sitting at the desk, typing something on his laptop at lightning speed. He stops when he sees me.

“Ah, Talia,” his sleazy smirk makes my stomach lurch with disgust. “Do you mind flipping the lock on the door so we don’t get disturbed?”

Of course I mind. I mind very much, but I force a smile on my face and do as he asks.

“Come here, take a seat,” he encourages me, that lecherous smile firmly in place. “I don’t bite… unless you ask me to.” He barks out a laugh.

God, I hate people who laugh at their own lame jokes. But if I want one chance in hell to succeed, I have to make him believe that I’m here to accept his disgusting offer.

“Play your cards right, and we’ll see where that takes us.” I bat my eyelashes, like I’ve seen Gen do countless times, as I lower myself into the chair opposing Victor’s desk.

Isn’t it ironic that Gen is my inspiration in my plan to take her and Victor down?

“So,” Victor’s eyes take a slow, pleased perusal of my body, stopping where the hem of my dress is riding up as I’m perched on the edge of the wooden chair. “I believe you and I have unfinished business. Your group presentation is tomorrow, and I need to know if you deserve a passing grade or not on that pop quiz.”

I’ve been thinking about this long and hard. If I agree to his terms too quickly, he might become suspicious. So I fake a one last-ditch attempt at making him do the right thing.

“Of course I can’t afford to fail this class,” I look away, as if I were conflicted. “You know I didn’t really copy. Is there a way that you could just help me out?”

His smile vanishes, replaced by a hard, predatory expression. “I’m one hundred percent here to help. But, as we discussed last time, my help to get out of the predicament you’re in comes at a price.”

“Ok,” I sigh. “I’ll do anything you want as long as you don’t report me for cheating and you don’t give me a failing grade.”

“That’s what I was hoping to hear,” Victor slides his chair backward and thrusts his hips to show me the obvious erection beneath his corduroy pants. “What do you think? Shall we start with your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock or do you want to sit on it?” He cups himself through his pants, and I have to struggle not to show him my disgust.

“That’s your choice,” I force myself to say.

Victor’s smile widens. “Hmm, submissive. I like that a lot.” His fingers fumble to grab the pull tab of his zipper.

“No, wait!” I yell. “Before we start, I think it’s only right that we fix my pop quiz.”

His eyes narrow but he abandons his attempt to open his fly. “You don’t trust me to keep my word?”

There’s an edge to his voice. I need to keep him calm if I want my plan to work.

“Of course I trust you,” I smile. “But I want to enjoy this too. And I won’t be able to if I’m worried about my grades.”