Page 109 of Wicked Lessons


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“No,” I blurt.

He turns toward the bedside table and picks up a glass. “Drink this.”

My nose wrinkles. “Am I allowed to ask?”

“A concoction I find effective,” he says, his eyes smiling. “Tomato juice, celery, with a shot of Korean pear and a pinch of ginseng.”

“Will it work?”

He brings the glass to my lips. “Try for yourself.”

I take a sip, expecting it to taste like cold soup, but it’s surprisingly light and reminds me of watery salsa. “It’s not bad.”

“Glad to have earned your approval,” he says with a light chuckle, but he stands over me until I finish the entire glass.

“Thanks.” I fall back on the pillows and sigh.

“Now hydrate.” He produces a huge tumbler of water and makes me swallow several mouthfuls.

Just when I think he’s going to show me mercy and leave me in my misery, he climbs into the bed and arranges me around his bare chest. My head rests at the juncture of his shoulder, and my breasts are pressed up against his side.

I melt against the professor and sigh. This is the closest I’ve felt to anyone in my entire life. I could so easily get used to him holding me like this.

“Tell me about your father.” His deep voice resonates across my front.

“What are you,” I mumble into his neck. “A psychologist?”

“If you like,” he replies, his voice light. “Were you close?”

“No.” I slide my hand to the dip between his pecs. “Yes. Not really.”

“You sound conflicted.”

I exhale a sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“Enlighten me.”

“It’s always been me and him since I could remember.”

“Where is your mother?”

“She’s out there somewhere,” I murmur. “All I have of her is a name and a few photos.”

Professor Segul remains silent. Whether it’s a prompt for me to continue speaking or because he’s thinking about something I just told him, I can’t tell. But it feels nice to talk to someone who won’t overreact.

“He was alright, I suppose. A bit cold, stingy, and he ranted a lot about women. But he was all I had, right?”

He makes a noise of agreement.

“Sometimes, I wished he would drop dead. He used to call me all sorts of horrible names.” My jaw clenches. “There was this one time, he threatened to sell me to that horrible pimp, Crius Vanir.”

Professor Segul stiffens, sounding like he’s holding his breath.

I cringe at having revealed too much. Now, he’s going to think Dad caught me doing something heinous.

“It was just a threat.” My words tumble over each other. “It’s not like I did anything wrong. He just doesn’t like it when I’m dressed like a normal woman.”

“Hence the Sunday school outfit you wore the day we met.”

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