AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Noah, I don’t need you to explain anything. It’s all pretty clear in the video.”
“Video?” I choke. Zara videotaped us? She couldn’t have. Wouldn’t have.
“Yes, video. It appears that Ms. Hamilton recorded one of your encounters and that’s what she sent in the message to our entire network. It was quite uncomfortable to watch. I’m sure you can see why we need to get ahead of this. How this can impact the university. We need a game plan, Noah. I need you to tell me everything that happened during your relationship with the student.”
Before I can divulge anything, I need to see this video. “I’ll be right back,” I inform Karen, rushing back to my bedroom. I find my phone in the same place I left it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I power up the device and wait for the notifications to filter through. What seems like an eternity later, the email icon shows at the top of my phone. Opening it, my heart races as I wait for the email to load, assuming the video is so large, it needs the extra few seconds.
There’s nothing written in the subject line and no text in the body, just a small icon at the bottom showing a video is attached. Also, it did come from Zara’s school-appointed email address. There’s no disputing the fact that she sent it.
I press the screen and the video loads. I should have connected to my home Wi-Fi before I began so there wasn’t as much lag time. The buffering is going to be the death of me. The screen illuminates, but there’s nothing to be seen, just some muffled voices in the background. Then it starts.
A few minutes in, the scenery changes and the voices become more clear, as if Zara had pulled the phone out of her bag and set it up, facing me, sitting on the sofa in my apartment. Judging by my clothes, this was the night that Zara told me how upset she was about Dillon’s activities and how she may or may not be clean.
Fuck.
As the video plays, I can recall each and every detail of this encounter. It’s only going to get worse. Here I was, thinking I was being sexy and demanding, and all the while, Zara was playing right into it. Not because she thought it was hot and couldn’t wait to get a piece of me, but because she had an ulterior motive. One that was to get me fired and all my credibility lost.
On the small screen of my phone, I watch Zara climb off the couch where I was just performing oral sex, loving every minute of it. Enjoying her coming apart in my arms and holding her limp body against my face as I savored every last second. This was one of the best memories I had of her, now tainted by the video she’s using to destroy me.
It’s what happens next—what I knew was going to happen as soon as I realized what was actually happening—that has me wanting to run to the bathroom.
“And to think, I’m not even done with you yet,” I tell her, as she steps off the couch. I wasn’t done with her. I just had a taste and I wanted so much more.
“Shit. I don’t know if I can take it, but I’ll give it a good old college try,” she jokes. God, she was so sexy with her after-orgasm glow, making me want her more than I already did. I’d never been so hard in my life, and all I wanted to do was bury myself so deep inside of her.
“College, you say? Sounds good to me. There’ll be no more of this Noah stuff, Ms. Hamilton. As your professor, you should refer to me as Mr. Bain. It’s only fair to the other students.” I was all too confident. Thinking she wanted to play out some kind of fantasy. Figured she was game. And the thought of being in complete control of her did things to me that I had never experienced before. I wanted to dominate her. Needed to control her.
“What?” I thought she was confused, but it all appears so clear now. This was just a way for her to lure me into her trap. She planned on me seeking out her submissive side, and instead of her worrying about me exploiting her, it was the exact opposite.
“Ms. Hamilton. You know the rules. If you’re still looking for that extra-credit assignment, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” How could I have been so stupid? How could I have given her the upper hand like this? If this went out to everyone in the Northwestern database, it’s not going to be long before my parents see this email. They already think I’m a huge fuckup; this isn’t going to do anything to help my case. I’m so fucked.
“I’m ready for my assignment, Mr. Bain.” You most certainly were, weren’t you, Ms. Hamilton? I think to myself. She played me. She’s going to win.
Who am I kidding? She’s already won. I can’t combat this video. The evidence ag
ainst me is compelling. I should just hand in my resignation, effective immediately, possibly save the university some legal bills and a public shaming.
Throwing my phone across the bedroom as if it’s going to delete the evidence, I retreat to the living room. Dean Calloway’s sitting on the couch, phone open, fingers moving like they’re on speed. “I don’t know what to do here, Noah,” she says, eyes still glued to the screen of her phone.
“I don’t, either. Tell me what I can do to fix this. I’ll do anything.” She briefly looks up from her phone, studies me for a moment before she redirects her attention to whatever she’s doing on that thing. “I need you to talk to me. Stop with the texting. Let’s figure this out. Please. It’s my career and reputation on the line.”
“Noah,” she says with force, “I’m trying to figure that out. The board is emailing, they want you to resign, effective immediately. I’m working on getting them to settle for administrative leave instead. You standing, hovering over me, asking a million questions, isn’t going to help.”
She’s right. Nothing I do right now is going to fix the situation. I need to be patient and let her guide me. I also need to stay as far away from Zara as I can get. Stepping into the kitchen, I brew a pot of coffee, expecting this to be an all-morning ordeal, and going out for a cup just doesn’t seem too appealing. The whole town will most likely be running my name through the mud.
Oh, God, my parents. My father’s a Northwestern alumnus. He got the email. I can’t even think about that right now. As I’m mixing in the creamer, another knock sounds at the door. I debate not answering, but the way my day’s going, it can’t possibly get any worse.
I head into the front room, in no rush to get more bad news, when another knock rings out. “Noah, it’s me. Please open. There’s something I have to tell you. Please.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
I stand at the door, watching Dean Calloway watch me, and debate what I’m going to do: allow Zara to come in and explain what the fuck her problem is while airing all of our dirty laundry in front of the dean or ignore her.
“Noah. I know you’re there. Your car’s in the parking lot. Open the door, please,” she calls from the other side of the door, not willing to give it up and go away.
“Give me a minute.” Sluggishly, I walk into the living room and take a seat across from the dean, her eyes never leaving mine. “It’s Zara.”
“Dammit, Noah. If I’m going to have any shot of killing the stories that come out of this, having the student you had an affair with at your apartment isn’t going to help. Get rid of her.” And I want to, but I also want an explanation. I want to know why she thought it was a fantastic idea to ruin my career. Especially when I thought we were building a relationship—something real.
Leaning over the arm of the couch closest to the door, I don’t even give her the courtesy of telling her this face-to-face. “Go away, Zara. We have nothing to talk about.”
