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“Please what? Please don’t act like a child?” She drops her bag to the ground, grips the hem of her T-shirt and lifts it, revealing her perfect bare breasts to everyone watching us. “Is this childish enough for you, Dr. Armstrong?”
“Fuck,” I growl before rushing toward her and shielding her with my body.
There are hoots and hollers coming from behind us, awakening the green-eyed beast inside me.
Mine, he silently roars.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?”
“Just acting my age,” she says innocently.
“Yeah, well, I’ve a mind to take you over my knee and smack your arse red.”
“Promises, promises,” she mocks.
“Come on, Megs. Let’s go back to my place and have a proper chat about all this.”
She scowls. “Don’t call me that.”
“Fine, but we’re going back to my place. Now, you can either walk there or I can carry you. Make your choice.”
She doesn’t make a move. I roll my eyes as I step forward and grab her around the waist before slinging her over my shoulder.
“Obstinate girl,” I mutter, and for good measure, I lay a smack across one of her arse cheeks.
After a few blocks, she finally relents and begs me to put her down.
“You realize someone was probably recording your little fit,” I scold her.
“Probably? They were definitely recording.”
“Meghan, not only am I faculty at Danville, but I’m also a guest.”
“Relax. You’ve only been here a day. No one even knows you.”
I take a moment to study her. It feels like forever since I’ve seen her, and earlier in the day I didn’t allow myself to truly enjoy having her back within my sight. She looks younger, but also tired. Her cheeks are flushed, but there are also dark circles under her eyes.
I frown. “Why do you look so tired?”
“Stress,” she mutters as we walk toward the converted Victorian where I’m renting a flat for the term.
Instinctively, I run my hand along her back and up her neck, letting my fingers tangle in her hair. Protectiveness and possessiveness surge to life inside me because deep down, I know Meghan is mine. Mine to protect. Mine to worship. Mine to punish.
But is she mine to love? I hadn’t decided on that yet.
To my surprise, she doesn’t run from my touch. Our steps fall in line, and she moves closer to me. We have a lot to discuss, but I can’t deny how good it feels to have my hands on her again. Maybe I can cross the line for one night…if only to teach her a lesson.
