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“I thought I heard your laugh. I had no idea you were a teacher here. I’m the new secretary in the chemistry department.”
Dr. Pierce looked at me to alert her to my presence since she seemed to talk like I wasn’t even there. I didn’t know how she’d missed me considering she had to walk past me to get to him.
Obviously, she didn’t get the hint because she just kept talking. “I’ve been here all week, I don’t know how I’ve missed you,” she said, resting her butt on his desk and stroking her fingers down his arm.
I noticed his eyes flick to the stack of papers that had moved out of alignment and it gave me satisfaction to know that her disorganizing his desk irked him.
Watching her hand make its way up and down his jacket, a jealousy I had no right to feel burned through me. I didn’t even know her—hadn’t even seen her face yet—and I hated her.
Dr. Pierce cleared his throat, talking for the first time. “Shannon, this is my student-aide in the department, Oaklyn.”
She turned, seeming surprised to see me. Of course, she was gorgeous, and I hated her all the more for it. “Oh, silly me. Hi, Oaklyn.” Her head cocked to the side. “Such an unusual name.”
“I like to call it unique, but I’ve heard weird before too,” I said sarcastically, which she missed completely. I wanted to call her a rude bitch, but bit my tongue because I knew I was overreacting and needed to calm the fuck down. She just laughed and turned her attention back to Dr. Pierce.
“I’d love to get together again. Pick up where we left off.” She leaned closer to him, speaking softly like I’d magically not be able to hear. “Maybe let me return the favor.”
Ohmygod. Ohmygod. I didn’t know what favor she was talking about, but my mind could conjure a few that made me want to knock her off the desk.
Dr. Pierce happened to look over at me as my eyes tried to bug out in panic. I was not getting trapped in there and tortured with her recount of their activities. I had to get the hell out of there.
“Whew, look at the time.” I interrupted. The conversation was unprofessional, and it felt like a punch in the gut. “I should get going. Thanks for sharing your sandwich, Dr. Pierce.”
I tossed my bag over my shoulder and bolted, not taking a moment to look back.
Being in that room caused me to have stupid feelings. Feelings I needed to walk away from and ignore. I needed to move past the stupid crush and focus on school.
Maybe if I said enough, my heart would stop trying to pound out of my chest every time I saw him.
11
Callum
I forced myself to look away as Oaklyn’s full lips stretched into a smile that would rival the sun and focus my attention back on lecturing the class.
The same way I’d forced myself to not visit her at Voyeur the past week. I hadn’t gone at all. I didn’t trust myself. Instead I’d looked up porn. I’d opened up one of the videos I liked—one of my fantasies.
I’d jerked my cock as I watched the woman run her tongue up the length of his erection. I pumped harder and faster watching his hand dig into her hair, holding her to him as he fucked her mouth. I tried to tighten my muscles in advance of my orgasm when he came down her throat and a stringy rope of cum slid down her chin. But nothing. Not a damn thing. No matter how much I watched or how much I imagined myself in the same position, I couldn’t come. Like my body was punishing me for depriving it of Oaklyn. I’d slammed the lid shut and ended up feeling as hollow as before I began.
I’d discovered Voyeur when I was looking for something more than a video. Something that helped me cope with the loss of intimacy. At least I was closer to it than I was staring at a computer. Somewhere along the way, I’d discovered that I just enjoyed watching.
After my failed internet search, I’d ended up with my hand clutched around a glass of bourbon, drinking way too much as I wondered what she was doing. Wondering what kind of performances she was putting on. Who she was putting them on with.
Why the hell was I so obsessed with her?
I’d been attracted to women before. Even found myself in fulfilling relationships. But this felt different. Bigger. I think it started as a physical reaction that bordered on obsession. An attraction that made me desperate to watch more of her. Then I’d met her. I’d talked and laughed with her. I began imagining touching her. Fucking her. And when I did, it didn’t fill me with the panic and dread it usually did when I tried to convince myself the next time would be different.
