Chapter 3 #2
My lips twitch. He’s the perfect kind of target; the kind you don’t just take, but ruin over time.
He slides a paper toward me. “We should start with judicial review. You clearly understand the concept, but your written analysis lacks structure.”
“Did you just critique my analysis structure after watching me choke someone out?” I ask.
“Yes,” he replies.
I laugh genuinely this time. “You’re something else.”
“We’re here for tutoring, not for me to comment on your extracurricular activities,” he says, forcing the conversation back onto safe ground.
It’s almost funny, because nothing about this is safe now.
Not for him. “Your professor emailed me your last essay feedback, and you lost points because you didn’t cite properly. ”
“I know how to cite,” I say in a bored voice.
“You know how to be lazy,” he corrects, and the way he says it makes my eyes narrow. Most people don’t speak to me that way. Not unless they’re stupid.
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. “Careful.”
“I’m not insulting you,” he replies. “I’m stating a fact.”
“You’ve got balls trying to scold me right now,” I murmur.
He flushes slightly at that, and my gaze drops to his chain where I saw a cross glinting earlier. This good Christian boy, who probably hasn’t sinned a day in his life. Except he walked in on a murder and stayed. That alone makes me wonder how his mind works.
He looks so easy to corrupt.
The thought settles into my mind smoothly, without resistance.
I’ve never been stupid about my public image. I know exactly what sport I’m in. I know what the league expects and what sponsors look for. I can’t afford to be anything but straight in the headlines; that’s just reality. But that doesn’t mean I can’t play.
“I’m here to help you pass.” There’s no tremor in his voice now. No stutter. He’s found his footing. “If that requires scolding, then yes.”
I stare at him for a moment, then laugh under my breath. “You’ve got a mouth on you.”
His lips press together faintly. “I’m just doing my job, Dominic.”
That’s what makes him interesting. I expected him to run or beg. Instead, he’s sitting here correcting me. I let my gaze drag slowly over him, not subtle about it. He notices, and I see the faint flush creep up his neck, but he doesn’t look away.
“You scared of me?”
“Yes,” he says without hesitation.
Honest. I like that.
“But you’re still here,” I point out.
“Yes,” he says again.
I cock my head to the side. “Why?”
His fingers tighten slightly around his pen. “Because if I leave, you’ll think I’m a liability.”
I hum. “And?”
“And I don’t want to be one.”
Smart again.
I could kill him—it would be easy, quick and clean with no loose ends. But I don’t want to. I want to see what he does next.
“You know,” I say slowly, “most people would’ve called the cops by now.”
He hesitates for half a second. “I don’t think you’d let me live long enough to finish the call.”
Another grin spreads across my face. “You’re catching on.”
I let him finish the session. Even answer a few questions, just to see the faint flicker of approval in his eyes when I answer correctly. Afterward, he packs up his papers neatly, sliding them back into his bag with careful precision.
“You’ll need to rewrite this section,” he says, tapping the page in front of me. “And I expect you to email me a draft before Friday.”
“Expect?” I echo. “You’re in no position to expect anything from me.”
His throat moves as he swallows, but he holds my gaze. “If you want to pass, that email will be in my inbox before Friday.”
Fuck me. This boy is gonna make me work for shit.
“You’re adorable when you try to assert yourself.”
“I’m not trying to assert myself,” he replies stiffly. “I’m trying to help you.”
I stand up slowly, and he follows suit a second later, slinging his bag over his shoulder. I step closer, invading his space deliberately, watching the way his breath catches.
“Look at me,” I say, and his green eyes hold mine—steady but alert. “You remember what I said earlier?”
He nods, the flush on his neck deepening. “I won’t tell.”
“Good, because I’d hate to ruin that pretty face,” I say and reach out, brushing my thumb briefly along his jaw, testing him. He freezes but doesn’t pull away, the flush returning. “See you next session, Little Sin.”
His eyes flash, and I see the shame in them. “Don’t call me that.”
I smile. “I’m so gonna call you that.”
“It’s inappropriate,” he says, his voice strained.
“So is what you saw,” I reply, and my tone stays light even as I watch the fear flicker back into his eyes.
“So, here’s how this works: you keep your mouth shut about what happened here today, you show up when you’re scheduled to show up, you do your little tutor thing, and nobody gets hurt.
You break that—you tell anyone, you even hint at it—and I promise you, Brendon, you won’t get the chance to regret it. ”
His breath catches. “Are you threatening me?”
“Yes, I am,” I say, reaching out and hooking one finger under the chain at his chest. He inhales quickly, and his hands clench at his sides. “You’re a good boy. Stay that way.”
I let the chain drop, the cross settling back against his shirt, and I step aside, giving him a clear path to the door. He doesn’t bolt. He walks out with control, shoulders tense, head held high.
“And Little Sin?”
He pauses at the threshold and looks back. I catch the way his eyes flick over me, quick and unwilling. It makes my stomach tighten with satisfaction. “What?”
“Be on time,” I say, and the warning sits inside the words, heavy and quiet. “Good boys don’t make me wait.”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You’re disgusting,” he mutters before walking out, and fuck me, it sends a shiver right through my body.
That kitten has claws, and I can’t wait to feel them digging in.