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I don’t spare a second glance at her as I open the door and stride toward the bathroom a few doors down. Most men would worry about her disappearing or telling someone what happened, but I’m not. No matter if she is there waiting for me to return or not, she’s mine, and I will do everything in my power to ensure she remains my little devil for all eternity.
five
BLAIRE
“Blaire cakes! Earth to Blaire cakes.” Delilah waves her hand in front of my face, bringing me back to the present. “What’s going on with you? First, you go MIA all weekend, and now you're off in La-La Land.”
She isn’t wrong. I’ve been avoiding my best friend, and she knows it. It took promises of hot chocolate and croissants from my favorite bakery to get the two of us in the same room.
It would’ve only taken one look at me after my romp with Wylder, and she would have known everything: I lost my virginity to a professor. She told me to live a little and have some fun, but I doubt that was what she meant.
Delilah wouldn’t tell a soul about what happened, but there’s something about the time we spent together that seems forbidden. He’s a professor and I’m a student. Nothing good ever comes from those types of relationships. They only end badly, usually for the student, and the last thing I need is more bad news.
Even though there are no rules against professors and students being in a relationship, it doesn’t look the best to the deans. My scholarship could be in jeopardy if anyone got wind of what happened, and I’ve worked too hard to throw it away.
“Sorry, Delilah. I’ve just had a lot on my mind since I read that email from the dean of students this morning,” I mumble, only telling her part of the truth.
The last thing I expected in my email this morning was a new TA assignment. I’m now the new TA for Art History 310, which is Wylder’s – I mean Professor Scott’s – class.
That’s right. I’m his new teaching assistant. Awkward much?
“Worried about seeing your secret admirer this morning?” Delilah giggles softly before bumping me in the shoulder. “Don’t stress, Blaire. It’s not like anything happened, right?”
“Yeah. Right,” I chuckle humorously before taking a large gulp from my hot chocolate, practically burning my mouth.
If she only knew.
“I’ve got to motor, hon. We can meet up at Nibbles and get some lunch before I head to study group.” She gives me a quick squeeze before grabbing her trash and heading toward her class.
“It was just a one-night stand. People have them all the time.” I give myself a pep talk before pushing back from the table and heading to the Art History building.
Memories from that night filter through my mind as I make my way through the crowd of students rushing to get to class on time. The possessive words he growled in my ear, how my body sang with each caress of his fingers, and the emptiness I’ve felt since running away from him. I’ve engraved all these things and more from that night into my memory.
“It meant nothing. Just sex,” I say to no in particular, although I know in my heart it’s a lie.
I’ve been telling myself all of this since arriving home on Friday night, but my heart still won’t get with the program. The way he claimed me, making me promise to be his, sounded as if he had intentions of spending more time with me, but I have no experience with these situations. My boyfriend of three years asked me for permission to dump me. I bet that’s never happened to anyone in the history of dating.
How is what happened with Professor Scott supposed to be any different? It probably meant more to me than him. I’m sure I was forgotten for the next coed the moment I was out of his sight.
“You don’t believe that, do you?”my inner voice whispers as I enter the Art History building, heading down the warmly-lit hallway toward the lecture hall.
“Yes,” I whisper, answering myself as I open the door.
My mind knows that there can be nothing more between Professor Scott and I, especially now that I’m his TA. But my heart is another story.
The room is like any other lecture hall: stadium seating with long table lining every row. There are a handful of students milling around, rushing to take their seats and getting prepared for class to start, but my attention is focused on Wylder.
His dark hair is pointing in every direction, like he’s been running his hand through it continuously. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he reviews the set of papers in his hand. There is even a light stubble of hair covering his chin, unlike the clean-shaven version I saw up close at the party.
I pull my bottom lip into my mouth as my core tightens and moisture pools between my legs. I’m never going to make it through this class if I can’t think of anything besides the wicked things he’s done to my body, and I’d give anything for him to do again.
“Salome.” His eyes widen as he notices me standing near the door.
Burning desire blazes through me as he drops his papers on the podium and strides toward me, ignoring everyone in his path.
“Hello.” I duck my head slightly in embarrassment as the entire room’s attention focuses on me.
He stops a few feet in front of me, lifting my chin so our eyes meet. He just stares into my eyes, not saying a word, searching for answers I’m not ready to give him.
