Chapter Thirteen Maddie #2
I drop my bag on one of the desks and slide into the seat just out of view of the window in the door.
“I was trying to be more agreeable. I really flew off on that other guy from my class yesterday and this seemed like a way to retain a little bit of goodwill. I’ll change both classes over to multiple choice.
It’s not a big deal.” I should have never asked Bram for help in the first place.
I want to shove him and kiss him at the same time.
He leans on the teacher’s desk at the front of the classroom with his trousered legs crossed and his arms folded over his broad chest, sleeves rolled up, looking like a whole-ass academic snack. This living together/working together thing is not going to work if I can’t stop objectifying Bram.
“Madelyn.” The way he says my name, like I’m being called to the principal’s office, forces me to press my thighs together. “You picked short answer over multiple choice for a reason, didn’t you?”
“Obviously,” I say. “The other adjuncts do multiple choice, but it doesn’t really lend itself to illustrating that a student grasps the material.
It wasn’t that long ago that I was a first-year, and shifting from high school to college is culture shock.
The sooner they learn how to take the concepts and put them into their own words, the quicker they’ll adjust and the more successful they’ll be. ”
“Excellent reasoning,” Bram says. “Good.”
I wait for him to say girl, but he leaves it at that.
“It’s not that easy,” I tell him with a frown.
He saunters over to me, his whole body practically arching over mine once he reaches me. His focus is heavy, palpable. “It’s not?” he asks mildly.
“You’re likely the tallest person in every room, Bram.
And you’re a man. People—especially other men—automatically respect you.
They look to you for what to do. How to act.
You set the tone without even saying a damn thing.
I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m five foot two, a woman, and plus-size.
To a lot of those little dickheads, I might as well be invisible, so excuse me for trying to meet them in the middle before they paint me as a villain. ”
“It won’t matter how they paint you if you let them trample all over you.”
“Did you hear anything I just said? Fuck you.”
“Make me,” he says.
“What?”
“You’re right. You’re small. You’re a woman. I’m the size of a clock tower and I’m a man. But you can’t change who you are and how you look. And I certainly don’t want you to.”
My chest flutters. “You can’t say things like that to me. You’re playing dirty pool.”
He raps a knuckle on my desk between each word. “Make. Me. Get. On. Your. Level, Madelyn. Make me feel small.”
I feel flustered, and I hate that he’s putting me on the spot, but then part of me—the part that feels like he’s my own personal heat lamp—rises to the challenge.
With a backbone made of steel, I stand up and go toe to toe with him.
“Professor Kowalczk,” he says. “I don’t think it’s fair to give your class short-answer quizzes when everyone else in the department is offering multiple choice.” His body hulks over me, his back hunching to meet me, like he might press me into the ground with his gaze alone.
My neck snaps back. “Professor Loe,” I tell him. “You will sit down when you speak to me.”
“Answer me first,” he drawls. I didn’t even know Bram Loe could drawl.
“This is a question for after class. Please sit.”
His firm lips curl into a smirk as he continues to loom.
I see what he’s doing. I take a deep breath and fill my voice with certainty. Pretend I’m six foot four and that people have told me my time is valuable my entire life. “Take a seat, Professor Loe,” I say, like it’s a given, like it’s an inalienable fact. I will tell him to take a seat and he will.
“Is that a demand?” he asks. “Or a suggestion?”
“It is a strongly worded suggestion.”
The tension in his shoulders eases. “Yes, ma’am.” And then he’s sitting in the chair I just vacated.
Here, in this position, he is just below my eye level. “How did I do?” I ask shyly as my body drags itself closer to him until I’m standing with one of his thick, muscled thighs between my legs.
“You did well.” His voice is a smooth velvet that has my center coiling with desire. “You were a very good girl.”
A small whimper slips from my chest as he curls a hand around the back of my thigh just under my ass. I want to feel him. I want to know that he’s feeling this and that he’s as insatiably turned on as I am.
I lean down, my fingers skating along his inner thigh until I’m cupping the thick bulge contained by his navy-blue chinos. From the size and insistence of it, you’d think he was a soldier who’d been at war for months, not a man who’d gotten off twice last night.
“Who’s playing dirty pool now?” he asks.
“It hasn’t even been a day,” I remind him, and immediately regret it.
“I guess we’ll just have to start over,” he says. “In just a little while.”
He yanks me to him, and I use both hands to steady myself on his shoulders as he pushes my sweater up, his nose dragging along my stomach until he’s nipping at the underside of my lace-covered breast.
“If we’re going to break your rules, we oughta make it count.”
“I can’t fuck you in this empty classroom, Madelyn. That would be very, very bad.”
“But how can I be good without being bad?” I ask.
He pushes my sweater up farther and presses his face in between my breasts, inhaling me like I am oxygen itself.
“Your good girl needs to be fucked, Professor,” I murmur.
He grips my ass with both hands, and the muscle in his jaw twitches like the control he so artfully projects is mere seconds from cracking.
Then a door slams nearby, and we’re immediately jumping apart.
He watches me with wide eyes full of regret. “We should go get your car.”
My heart pounds in my chest and I am dripping with want, but the thought of someone walking in and catching the newest adjunct dry humping Professor Loe’s thigh is enough for me to reluctantly agree.
“And Madelyn?”
“Yes?”
“You’re right. Classroom dynamics will always be different for you.
You’re a woman and as you continue to remind me, I am a tree-shaped man.
I want to help you in any way I can, but remember, there are women on this campus who eat men like Dr. Wallace for breakfast and then use the bones to clean their teeth. ”
“I do really like my department chair,” I tell him.
“Dr. Salazar? She terrifies me.”
“That’s hot,” I tell him.
He smirks. “Let me help you, but you should also seek out people like Dr. Salazar and find out what they’re doing right.”
“Okay.” I nod. “I’ll give it a try.”