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Chapter 1
Vincent
The jocks in the college gym see me coming.
Scrambling.
Abandoning the squat rack and the benches leaving a sheen of boys to men sweat and fear behind them like vapor.
Every one of them suddenly in desperate need of a shower or just being anywhere I’m not right now.
At first I think it’s the sight of me with murder in my eyes, but the Dean’s familiar clip clop step isn’t too far behind me.
Storming out of his office once he accuses me of literally stalking one of my students probably wasn’t a great idea.
Then again, neither was stalking a student, but when it comes to Violet Chambers, I’m way past caring about trying to even keep a lid on how I feel.
When I get this worked up, I can’t let it show by flipping my lid, or in this case, admitting any guilt. Then I’d never have her. They’d make sure to keep me from what’s mine, I just know it.
So I flex my arms lifting and pushing iron plates instead.
I push my body to its absolute limits so I’m too weak to wreak the absolute destruction I feel coursing through my veins.
Usually I can hold off until I get home to let off some steam if need be, on a bad day. But today is different.
Everything’s different now that he knows.
Turns out the Dean here’s been doing a little stalking of his own.
Tracing access to confidential student files to my computer at home. Stuff her Professor doesn’t need to know and shouldn’t be accessing.
Like her home address, next of kin.
Height and weight. Eye color… All the things that make the constant thought of her swell in my mind as well as my pants.
Her blond hair back in a ponytail and the way her tits move when she walks, as well as the way her jeans hug her perfect ass aren't in her file.
I’ve been keeping an eagle eye on her real personal details for a while now.
Thing is. How did the Dean know to even check if I’ve been accessing Violet’s files?
Unless he was looking at ‘em himself.
The thought make rigid.
Angry. So it’s with balled fists and a clenched jaw I left his office without a word in my defense, but I may as well have a sign around my neck now:
‘Psycho Professor’.
Sure have been acting like one lately.
But the idea that anyone would and even can see as much of her life and personal details as I’ve seen so far, and so easily… It isn’t right.
She’s fucking mine!
‘It’s unbecoming of a Professor at this institution…I should be calling the police, Vincent…’
The words from Dean Reinhold ring like some sick detention bell in my brain. The sound of his brisk steps catching up to me, just like it’s all gonna catch up with me in the end…Making me feel like I’m back at school as a kid student instead of being the teacher.
