Chapter 8 Nate #2
“Just keep your focus on work,” I mutter, already turning to walk away. From the corner of my eye I see George inching his chair away from hers and there’s a little rush of triumph under the guilt coursing through me.
The session ends at twelve, but no one gets up.
These students are driven and ambitious, every one of them wanting to make a good impression on me.
Which means no one wants to leave before I do.
Finally, when it’s nearly twelve thirty, I stand, stacking up the books on my desk. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
There’s some quiet murmuring as they also stand, gathering their things. It strikes me suddenly how quiet they all are, and not only today. Because you’re scaring the shit out of them, Chase, I remind myself, stifling a groan. When, exactly, did I become the asshole professor everyone is scared of?
By the time I’ve finished gathering my things, the rest of them have gone. All except for one blonde who’s hovering nervously near the back door. Harper. Shit.
“Yes?” I bark out, trying not to notice the way she flinches at my tone.
Her expression is still hurt but her voice is even when she says, “I think we should talk.”
The last thing I need to do is talk to Harper. Not when she’s staring at me with those deep brown eyes, so filled with emotion, just begging me to kiss the hurt away. “About what?”
“About your attitude.”
I try to keep from gaping at her in surprise and fail. “My attitude?”
She straightens her shoulders, nodding, and the anger I’ve barely been able to keep a lid on ratchets up. I jab a finger at the spot in front of my desk. “Over here,” I manage to grind out. “Now.”
I can see from her eyes that she’s intimidated, afraid even, but she manages to keep her chin high as she stares back at me. “You don’t get to order me around like I’m a dog.”
I take a deep breath, so close to flying off the handle I can actually feel my body straining towards her, wanting nothing more than to march across the room and throw her over my shoulder. She could use a good spanking right now, and God knows I could as well.
“We are not having this conversation across the room.” My voice is slightly calmer now. “So please come here.”
She finally does as she’s told, looking more and more nervous the closer she gets to me. She stops a few steps shy of my desk and I’m around the side of it in an instant, glaring at her as I lean closer. “You do not have a say in my attitude. I’m in charge of this project and—”
“I know that.” She sounds angry but I’m too annoyed at being interrupted to care. “But that doesn’t mean you should be a jerk to everyone just because you’re pissed at me.”
Her eyes are flashing at me, anger and passion mixing in their chocolate depths, and all I want to do is grab her and kiss her until she can’t breathe, until she can’t argue with me anymore. “I am pissed at you,” I say, leaning even closer, my voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “Do you know why?”
She swallows several times, the anger in her eyes fading away until she once again looks innocent. And more than a little nervous. She shakes her head.
“Because you let that asshole kid stare at you.” I lean closer still, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her warm brown eyes. “You let him touch you, Harper.”
“He didn’t,” she breathes out, chest rising and falling rapidly. The fact that she’s so breathless at my proximity has my own heart rate speeding up, desire mixing with the frustration in my blood.
“He had his fingers in your hair. I saw it.”
She just stares up at me, still breathing hard, and the urge to pull her into my arms is becoming unbearable. “Were you jealous?” she whispers, something like hope in her voice.
“Of course I was jealous,” I snap back. “It’s bad enough that I have to watch you all damn day without getting to touch you. Do you think I’m just going to sit here and let someone else do it?”
There’s a smug smile playing around her lips. She likes that she makes me jealous. If she was my sub, I’d be spanking her for that smirk. “Don’t test me, Harper.”
Her eyes go even wider, but there’s no innocence in them now. “Why? What do you want to do?”
I groan. “So fucking much.”
She leans in closer—we’re only a few inches apart—and brings a hand up to my face, brushing her thumb lightly across my cheek. “You should show me.”
Everything in my body is screaming at me to do just that.
To kiss her and claim her and punish her, all at the same time.
To leave her with no choice but to realize that some twerp like George could never satisfy her the way I can.
She’s too close and I’m too aware of her body heat, of the excitement flashing in her eyes, the way her chest is rising and falling with each breath and—
“Hey, sorry I’m late.”
I pull back while Harper literally jumps away from me, her panicked eyes going to the door at my side.
I look over, my stomach sinking as I take in Mason.
He’s striding into the room, his eyes still glued to the phone in his hand, and I’m so fucking thankful that he’s perpetually distracted by the thing, unaware of what he had nearly walked in on.
“Hi,” Harper says, her voice high pitched. “I thought we were meeting on the quad?”
Mason finally looks up from his phone, smiling at us as he slips it into his pocket. “Figured I’d check here first, make sure Chase is treating you right.”
Fuck. His words hit me like a brick to the chest, the guilt making it hard to breathe right.
Mason is one of my oldest friends, a truly decent guy who wants nothing more than for his sister to be happy.
I remember when his parents died after graduation, the way he had stepped up without complaint to take care of her.
There was nothing more important to my old friend than the wellbeing of the woman in front of me.
And this is how I treat him—nearly fucking his little sister on my desk in a classroom where anyone could walk in.
Before I can think of a single thing to say, Mason’s face is clouding over. “Harpy? You okay?”
I glance over and see how white her face is. “I’m not feeling very well,” she whispers. “Maybe we should skip lunch.”
Mason looks concerned as he crosses the room to her. “What’s wrong?”
Her professor is a fucking creepy asshole, I think, the guilt in my chest doubling.
“Just tired,” Harper manages, leaning into Mason as he slips an arm around her. “These first few weeks have been busy.”
Mason frowns at me. “You better not be working her too hard.”
“He’s not,” she says quickly. “I’ve just been studying too much. You know me.”
Some of the worry leaves his face as he laughs a little, squeezing her. “I sure do. But you should eat, Harpy. Skipping meals won’t help.”
She nods, looking everywhere but at my face. “You’re right.”
Mason turns to me, though his attention is still clearly on his sister. The scope of his unease seems odd, like he’s deeply worried about her not feeling well.
Then again, when you lose both of your parents to illness within a year of each other, I suppose you might tend to worry more about that sort of thing than the average person does.
“You want to join us?”
I can see the panic in Harper’s eyes and it matches my own. “No,” I say, probably too quickly. “I have another class.”
Mason has already turned his gaze back to Harper. “Next time,” he says vaguely, clearly not caring about my response. “We should go. You look pale. You need to eat.” He casts a distracted glance over his shoulder as he leads her from the room. “See you around, Chase.”
“See you,” I call back weakly, my stomach twisting at the thought of what he had almost caught us doing.
He would have killed me. And how in the hell would Harper feel?
I think of the way she had gone so pale when she saw him, and how much worse that would have been if we’d been farther along in what I’d been envisioning.
The thought of her fear brings a knot of pain to my stomach.
And that, Chase, is exactly the reason you need to keep this shit under control.