Chapter 23 Elle
ELLE
Sutton’s irritation is instantly palpable the moment he shoves open his apartment door to find me perched on the edge of his sofa, waiting patiently with my legs crossed, a short skirt high on my hips.
It’s more thigh than I really need to show, but there aren’t rules for this sort of thing. The way his piercing green eyes immediately fall to my legs makes me think I chose correctly though.
When he exhales, I wonder if maybe this was a bad idea after all. My nerves are shot, my confidence wavering, and this is the exact thing that got me into trouble with his dad, but… I also want this.
Spot or no spot. I want him.
I waited a few days before executing his request in case anyone had overheard, but for some reason, he looks surprised that I took him up on it.
“Perhaps this conversation would be better suited for a different time.”
No subtext needed. I heard him loud and clear.
He sports a pair of dark brown slacks and a sage button-down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms, and I wonder how long they’ve been like that.
If he taught his last class with them exposed so everyone could ogle him.
No, that would make him uncomfortable. He wants attention to be academic in nature—despite the glint in his gaze reflecting my own lewdness.
Just for a moment though. When he blinks, it’s gone, and he closes the door behind him as he sets his briefcase on the cushioned green chair next to it.
“Just how long is your list of priors, Ms. Anderson?”
“Assuming I have a record is not very progressive of you, Boy Scout.”
The apartment around him is dark, even with the lights he flips on as he comes into the living room.
Every mirror within is covered with scrap fabric or some kind of furniture slip—even the standing one in his bathroom.
The curtains contain about an inch’s worth of dust, as if they’re never drawn during the day.
It’s unbelievably stuffy—everything inside barely touched, nothing ever disturbed, like a mausoleum of academia.
“Besides,” I continue when he says nothing, “is it technically a crime if I have a key?”
“Where the hell would you have gotten—” He drags a palm down his face. “Never mind. I forgot who I was speaking to. Delinquency extends beyond restricted basements and prohibited forests, clearly.”
I grin, leaning back. “You don’t seem all that happy to see me.”
Slowly, his eyes travel over my form, pausing for a single breath when he reaches the multiple undone buttons at the top of my blouse.
He clears his throat, pocketing his hands. Like he’s physically restraining himself from reaching for me.
Our brief moments together outside class are mere memories. Ones I haven’t been able to stop thinking about for a myriad of reasons—the main one being how badly my body craves him.
It’s a disease, this want I have. Pathetic even. Normally, I wouldn’t be so desperately trying to get him to admit there’s something here, but my soul feels like it’s being fed through a shredder each time he denies me.
I’ve never ached for anything like I do him. At first, it was just the physical attraction, a statuesque beauty that haunts my dreams. But beyond that, listening to him lecture each day only makes my admiration grow.
He’s smart. Passionate. Endlessly unnerved by my existence.
Resistance is futile.
“You can’t be here,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Are we really still playing the I could lose my job game? I thought we agreed that was just an excuse.”
“My brother is staying with me.”
That makes my stomach drop. “I thought guests weren’t allowed inside faculty housing.”
“They’re not, which doesn’t help your case, by the way. But Beckett got a special exemption. He’s sort of…in my custody for the time being.”
“Custody? Is he a child?” Surely, not the Beckett I’ve met.
“No,” he replies sharply. “It was just decided that given the circumstances of last semester, he should be kept under someone’s watchful eye.”
I purse my lips. “Because of the whole cave incident, right?”
He lets out a long breath. “You know about that?”
“Not all the details. My family works on a need-to-know basis, and apparently that didn’t fully qualify.” I slide my hands over my legs, considering. “My brother messed him up pretty bad, I heard. Though he seems to have recovered okay on the outside.”
“Yes. Although I don’t blame Asher so much as I do our father for influencing Beckett to act in the first place. And—wait.” Sutton pauses, frowning. “You’ve seen him?”
“Well, I ran into him and your dad the day I saw you in the woods.”
“What do you mean you ran into them?” he grinds out, jaw tense.
“My father rarely leaves the family manor due to illness, and Beckett’s been so despondent lately that he barely leaves this apartment.
Frankly, the fact that you were able to sneak in the one time he was gone is a bit frightening, but I’m willing to overlook it for the moment. Stay away from my father, Elle.”
Unease slinks down my spine. Now would be a good time to mention my history with the man, but I can’t make myself do it.
I don’t want him to know—don’t want him to think less of me.
“It’s not like I sought him out. I ran into him by pure chance.
If you hadn’t kicked me out of the forest, actually, I probably would’ve missed him altogether. ”
Sutton’s laugh is humorless and made of glass. “You’re blaming me for being put on his radar?”
“What is he, a UFO?”
“No, what he is is a major fucking influence in this town and a founding family member who believes your family is responsible for the downfall of ours. He believes in that ridiculous fucking curse, and he’s the reason Beckett tried to kill your brother mere months ago.
Fuck. Do you take anything seriously, or is this all some big joke to you?
Did you come to Avernia just to cause problems? Was LA not doing enough for you?”
I cross my arms, waiting while he seethes, ignoring the bite of his judgment. A part of me wants to walk over and offer him some sort of comfort since he’s clearly spiraling, but I think that might make the final thread keeping him tenuously sewn together tear.
Finally, he sighs, dropping his head. “My father is not a good man, Elle. Stay away from him.”
“Stay out of the forest, don’t hang out with Lexington, stay away from your dad. Normally, I want a man to fuck me a few times before he starts trying to dictate my entire life.”
“Christ.” Groaning, he scrubs his palms over his face. “Don’t talk about fucking right now.”
“Why not? You’re the one who told me to come for office hours.”
The air goes still. He spreads his fingers, peeking at me through them. “What sort of office hours did you think I meant?”
“Is that not…” I trail off, cocking my head to the side. Heat blooms in my cheeks, flushing warmth through my entire body.
Oh my God. That wasn’t a come-on in class.
He wasn’t offering sex in exchange for a spot in Visio Aternae. He really meant for me to come to his office during office hours.
Humiliation burns my retinas, blurring my vision.
I want to die.
“Forgive me for misunderstanding,” I mutter.
Genuine horror registers on his face. “In what world would you believe I’d ask you to trade sex for group membership, Elle? Jesus Christ. You must think I’m a raging piece of shit if that was your first conclusion. Is that what Hollywood taught you?”
Tears sting my eyes as he scolds me, his words like a branding iron to the face. I feel utterly small. Infinitesimal.
My skin itches, and I scramble to fix the buttons on my shirt. Sniffling, I push to a standing position and grab my things, tugging my skirt down in the process.
“Like I said, it was a misunderstanding,” I say, my voice robotic.
Stupid, Elle. You are so fucking stupid.
You fell for it again.
Sutton stares at me as I try to collect myself, an unreadable expression marring his features. “What aren’t you telling me?”
I glare at my feet. “Nothing.”
“Elle.”
“What? We’re just teacher and student, right? You don’t need to know everything about me. An incomplete hookup doesn’t make us friends, and you don’t want us to be more so just drop it.”
Keys jangle at the front door, and Sutton curses under his breath, springing into action. His arm collides with my stomach, shoving me backward as he practically drags me past the sofa and into a short hall with two side-by-side doors.
With a grunt, he dives into the one on the left, slamming it shut at the same time a voice calls into the apartment.
“Sutton! You home?”
His brother.
I let out a squeak when my back hits the mattress against the far wall, beneath a wooden headboard that’s flush with a large window. Sutton falls on top of me, planting his knee between my thighs and slapping his palm over my mouth.
His fingers are freezing, and I suppress a full-body chill, though I can’t be sure what exactly it’s from—his touch or the fact that we might get caught.
“Hello?” A knock on the closed door makes my eyes bulge, and Sutton’s jaw shifts. He glances over his shoulder, and we both see it at the same time: the unlocked knob, which twists before Sutton jolts back to reality.
“I’m naked,” he shouts, louder than probably necessary.
The doorknob ceases moving. “Oh. Well, shit, you see me naked all the fucking time. Who cares?”
My eyebrows arch, and Sutton’s grip on my mouth tightens.
Between my thighs, I’m throbbing, but I try not to focus too much on how good it feels to be pinned down like this by him.
“I—I’m not decent,” he says weakly, meeting my gaze. There’s something haunted living in his, and it feels a lot heavier than the reality of us being merely forbidden by school policy.
My heart aches to know what secrets he keeps hidden.
“What does ‘not decent’ mean?” his brother asks. “Are you, like…masturbating?”
Suddenly my mouth is dry, the image of him fisting himself too much for me to handle.