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“No, we can’t,” I say flatly. “What you can do is explain to me why you handed this in as your assignment.” She doesn’t say anything, and she still refuses to look at me. “Miss Hendrix? I’m waiting.”
Finally, she lifts her eyes, a pretty crystal blue, and if the situation wasn’t what it was, the look on her face would be amusing. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen anyone look so embarrassed.
“It was an accident, okay?” she says in exasperation. “I must have picked up the wrong paper yesterday morning.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, looking down at the paper. “I can understand how that could happen.”
“Can you not read that with me right here? Actually,” she gets up from her chair and comes forward, reaching for the paper, “can I have it back, please? What did you do? Make a copy of it?”
“Sit!” The word comes out as a loud command. Luna freezes for a moment before she backs her ass toward the chair and plops down in it.
I take a calming breath before I continue. “I make copies of all of my students’ work before I give them back. As for me reading it with you sitting right here,” I pause, “we both already know what’s on this paper, so you being here shouldn’t make a difference.”
“It sure makes a difference to me,” she mutters, nearly too low for me to hear.
“Now let’s talk about why you wrote it in the first place.”
Her eyes jerk to me, and her blush renews. She lets out a nervous giggle. “I’d rather not.”
“Let’s do it anyway.”
Again, her blue eyes fall away.
I cross my ankles and regard the top of her head. “Do you fantasize about authority figures often, Miss Hendrix?”
“What?” she nearly screeches, jerking her head up. “Of course not.”
Her intense reaction almost has me smiling.
“So, it’s just me then?”
I can practically see the wheels turning in the girl’s head, trying and failing to find a way out of answering my question.
In the end, she denies it.
“The man on that paper is not you,” she says vehemently.
I arch a brow, pick the paper back up, find the spot I’m looking for, and begin reading.
“He uses the finger that has the word Honor tattooed on it to trace down the center of my pelvis, not stopping until he reaches my silky….”
“Stop!” Luna yells before I get to the really juicy part. “Holy crap, will you just stop, please?”
Dropping the paper again, I hold my hand up so she can clearly see the word Honor on my finger. Not that she needed the reminder.
“You want to rethink your answer to my last question?” I ask. “Is it just me you fantasize about?”
“It wasn’t a fantasy.” Her voice barely comes out. “I had a dream. I always write down my dreams when I wake up.”
From the look on her face, I’m not sure I believe her. Oh, I believe she had the dream, and I’m sure she wrote it down like she said. But something tells me it’s more than that. She has fantasized about me.
The thought of that has my cock coming to life. And not for the first time in the presence of this girl.
“How old are you, Miss Hendrix?” I ask out of the blue.
Her brows wrinkle in confusion, as if she doesn’t quite understand my question.
“Eighteen.”
