Chapter 6 #2
“That won’t work on me anymore,” I lie, even as the tension in the room wraps around me in a way that makes me ashamed. My thundering heartbeat has moved lower.
Professor Holmes straightens, taking a single step towards me. The sound of his dress shoes on the floor echo like gunshots. “What the hell has gotten into you, Tara?”
He appraises me as if he’s considering what to do, as if what I say next matters to him.
“How many other favorite students do you have?” I say with all the vitriol I can muster. “I’m just a fucking notch on your bedpost, huh? Do you get off on fucking your students, or—”
Professor Holmes’ hand snaps to my mouth, stifling the rest of my sentence. He grips the back of my head harshly, pulling my hair in the process. The fire in his gaze is an inferno now. His eyes are dark, filled with malice and the threat of pain.
That look is familiar to me. It’s what I’m used to.
He pulls in a breath so deep that he closes his eyes, his chest expanding against mine.
“What the fuck has gotten into you?” His voice is low but pricks my skin like tiny needles. There’s violence in a tone like that. I should be scared, but my traitorous nipples tighten. “Where is this coming from?”
Professor Holmes obviously doesn’t want an answer because his hand is still pressed against my mouth. I part my lips, struggling against his grip until my teeth find purchase in one of his fingers. I bite down hard. He doesn’t react, so I keep going until my mouth tastes of copper.
He is stoic, even though I know he’s in pain.
He holds my gaze, the edge of his lip twisting into some sort of macabre smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. If anything, the heat in them has transformed from hatred to something else entirely. He looks as though he would devour me.
My heart hammers in my chest because I know I would let him.
“I’m giving you one chance to tell me what’s sparked this,” he says. “Then, I’ll answer your questions.” His eyebrows lower. “If you swear at me, I will have you punished so harshly you’ll beg me to kill you instead.”
I can’t stop the surprise that twists my features. I know enough about him not to doubt that he would.
Slowly, he moves his bleeding hand from my mouth. I glance at it to see that a rivulet of blood has wrapped itself around his ring finger. He doesn’t seem to care, so I force down the twinge of guilt.
“Cassidy.” My lip trembles. “I know you’re fu—having sex with her too. I know that you lied to me that I’m special and I hate you for it.” My words aren’t powerful anymore. They come off a bit whiny to me. I figure I’m doing a piss poor job of hiding just how hurt I am.
For a man that’s been caught in a lie, Professor Holmes looks rather impassive.
After a moment, he runs a hand through his hair, pressing the heel of his uninjured hand to his forehead. He lets out a deep sigh, then pins me with a harsh glare.
Oh, the nerve of him to be upset. I want to curse, but he speaks before I do.
“I’m offended you would think that about me, let alone disrespect me by saying it to my face.” His hand catches the back of my neck, pulling me so close to him we’re sharing the same breath. “Do you think I’m some harebrained college kid who fucks anything on two legs?”
His eyes are so intense, I look away from them but there’s evidence of his anger all over his face—the tick in his jaw, the vein bulging by his temple, even the hard line of his lips.
I’m speechless. My lips tremble as I try to get something out, but that only seems to upset him more. His grip on me turns painful. He’s pulling at the roots of my hair, and an icy tendril of terror snakes up my spine. But there’s the low hum of pleasure too.
Am I crazy for liking it a little?
“Do you know how fucking long I’ve tried to resist you?
” he asks in a strangled tone, more to himself than to me.
“I told myself that I could make it through the year, even when you waltzed into my classroom looking like you were just begging me to bend you over the table and fuck you senseless. I noticed every one of your attempts.” My mouth goes dry, but a wet heat pools in my belly.
“This isn’t a fucking habit for me, Tara. It’s only you.”
My eyes burn. This is not how I expected this to go. Even though his words were so earnest, Professor Holmes’ eyes are still angry, his grip still agonizing.
“I don’t take disrespect lightly,” he says. “You will not ever do that again.” He doesn’t need to articulate his threat. Terror squeezes my chest. “If you have a problem with something, we can discuss it like adults.”
I suck in my bottom lip, taking a deep breath to steady the whirlwind of emotions.
“Yes,” I say.
He scoffs. “Yes, who?"
“Yes, sir.” I swallow thickly.
A small smile graces his features then, but it only makes him seem more sinister. Every inch of my body is riddled with tension. My nerve-endings feel like they’re sitting on top of my skin. His warm breath on my face clashes with the cool air filling the room and the heat inside me.
“You bit me,” he says, almost amusedly. “Like an animal.”
My shoulders start to tremble. In hindsight, that wasn’t the best idea.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I offer, but Professor Holmes shushes me with a click of his tongue.
“It’s too late for that,” he says, with a lilt to his voice like he’s just made a joke. “You’re fortunate that I like your fire.”
He bares his teeth in a smile but it looks more like a shark’s grin.
Professor Holmes’ grips my neck with his wounded hand, holding me even closer to him. He lets go of my hair, but the reprieve is short lived because that hand moves to the hem of my skirt. My breath hitches, and my eyes widen.
He wouldn’t.
“What is it, little one?” His fingers dance with the edge of my skirt before dipping beneath it to trail along my thighs. “Are you afraid we’ll get caught?”
I nod. His grip on my throat tightens considerably, until I’m getting just enough air.
“Yes,” I squeak out. Professor Holmes chuckles.
“You didn’t care for that when you were blowing up on me,” he says. His fingers are almost at the junction of my thighs. I try to wince away from his touch, embarrassed by what he’ll find, but the grip on my neck discourages me.
He squeezes just enough to make it hard for me to breathe. When I stop squirming, he eases up a little. The threat of passing out keeps me still even as I worry my lips and refuse to meet his gaze.
Professor Holmes’ fingers encounter my slick thighs and I gasp.
“No panties, again?” he asks, slipping his fingers between my folds. The rough pads of his fingertips against my sensitive flesh have my legs shaking. It’s just a touch, but I’m so ready for him that I find myself grinding against his fingers. “You’re such a little slut for me.”
My cheeks heat up. He rubs his thumb over my clit, and I shudder.
“Please.” The words fall from my lips. My mind is hazy. All I want is release.
At my words, Professor Holmes withdraws his hand. My chest squeezes and I want to cry out at the loss of his satisfying touch. It’s like that day in his office all over again.
He plops his glistening fingers into his mouth. My eyes widen.
“Delicious,” he says. “Are you still certain you want this, Tara?”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
He smirks. “Meet me tonight in the botany building.”