10. Irina
10
IRINA
O r else?
Damn him.
Damn this cocky bastard.
My professor had no business issuing a threat like that. If any man could get away with telling me or else , it’d be my father. And he only had that power over me because he’d demonstrated time and time again that he could do whatever the hell he wanted to my younger brother and it would be insurance against my ever disobeying.
But Professor Remi? How the hell did he think he could punish me for wasting his time?
I wasn’t wasting his time. If I wanted to blow off my classes, that was my prerogative. No one else’s. He couldn’t care. He didn’t have any stakes in my grades. I was—for all he could assume—one student among hundreds that he’d grade and decide to pass or fail.
I refused to entertain the idea that he could care. He didn’t know me to care, but then again, no one ever really knew me .
“And just what does that mean?” I asked, playing with fire and loving the giddiness that came with it. This was like poking the bear. Like skating on thin ice. Dangerous, but so damn exciting that I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.
“What do you think it means, Irina?”
Oh, he was playing dirty now. “Irina?”
He nodded, slowly walking around the desk to approach me from where I stood on the opposite side of it. “Yes, Irina.”
I fought the instinct to shiver. Hearing my name rolling off his tongue like that felt like a caress. Like a tender touch or summons. He was just so serious, so gruff and hard despite this image of a professional and by-the-books professor he had perfected.
“Do you call all your students by their first names? I thought you were all about formality.”
“That’s what I’m calling you. For now.” He continued to stalk closer to me, his deep brown stare boring into me and making me more turned on than I’d ever been. Having this tall, sexy man stalk toward me had me reeling from the sensation of being prey. Hunted prey.
Do you refer to all your other students with that deep, rich bedroom voice, too?
I hoped he didn’t. I wanted to feel special, to feel seen by him.
“For now?” I asked.
He nodded, stepping right up into my personal space, just like he had done at that party last week. Immediately, his body heat and scent hit me, and I hated how badly I wanted to lean into his touch, to fall into his arms and let him catch me and hold me.
Looking down at me, he forced me to crane my neck to peer up at his serious and intense gaze. This man wasn’t just challenging me not to look away. He was giving me a preview of what it felt like when a man was wholly focused on a woman.
“Yeah. For now,” he replied, lowering his voice even more.
“What else would you call me?” I asked. The second the words left my mouth, I shuddered under the drugging charge of carrying on with this conversation I had no business having with my professor. With any man.
He was flirting with me. Hitting on me. It was such a novel experience, something that hadn’t even happened with someone outside of the Mafia world, that I didn’t want it to ever stop.
“I would call you whatever I wanted,” he said, like a rich promise of sinister intent. “It doesn’t matter what I’d call you. If you think you can get away with wasting my time, I’ll punish you.”
Oh.
My.
God.
I swallowed hard. My mouth was suddenly so dry as my heart raced too fast. I couldn’t fill my lungs with enough air, dizzy with this haze of tension that claimed me. I had no experience with talking to a man like this. I had zero background in handling these kinds of sexy scenarios to rely on for guidance.
The idea of him punishing me , showing me how he’d want me to behave, was such a naughty thought I could barely stand it. Already sucking in a gasp, I sounded like a wanton woman, held on the edge of a line that bordered logic and desire.
I wasn’t a fan of pain, but with one long study of my professor’s wicked stare on me, I just knew that his brand of pain wouldn’t be something I’d dread but something I’d yearn for. His idea of pain would somehow bring me so much pleasure.
“You think you could punish me?” I retorted when I could speak after the shock settled in my mind.
“I don’t think I could, Irina.” He stepped forward again, brushing his leg against mine.
I didn’t think it was possible for him to be any closer. I didn’t realize how potent the faintest touch against him could unravel my resolve to look unaffected and stay strong.
“I will ,” he promised instead. “If you want to push your luck with me, if you want to try me…” He laughed once, a low chuckle that reinforced his deep, gruff voice. “Fuck around and find out.”
I slid the tip of my tongue along my lower lip, needing moisture there from my jaw dropping and breathing so quickly and shallowly for him. I’d never been so turned on in my life, but seeing his gaze darken as he tracked the movement of my tongue aroused me even more. Witnessing how I impacted him was a heady triumph to enjoy.
“How dare you talk to me like this, Professor Remi?—”
He grabbed my hand, clutching it not gently but not cruelly either. “Viktor,” he corrected. “You will call me Viktor.”
“Because you’re tossing out all formality, telling me to fuck around and push you?”
His responding grin was so slow and sexy that I wished I could have the courage to kiss it right off his face.
“Because I want to hear you say my name, Irina. I want to see how your face lights up when you say it.”
“Lighting up with anger, maybe,” I argued.
“Or desire.” He began to thread his fingers between mine. The reminder that he still held my hand—a privilege he’d helped himself to without asking me—prompted me to wrench it away. Yanking my hand back, I resisted the sensation of missing his touch.
“You’ve got no clue what you’re messing with,” I told him. I wanted to say it matter-of-factly, but I sounded too breathy and turned on to come off as a serious woman right now.
“You’ve got no clue who you’re messing with,” I added.
In the back of my mind, though, I knew I was just bluffing. I wasn’t really protected. I had no backup to save me if Viktor actually intended to punish me for wasting his time or being disobedient.
I might have had guards assigned to me my whole life, but that was nothing more than a standard Igor Petrov extended to protect his assets. I was a spy, the only female member of the family who’d stand in for an operation. Because of that, Igor had confidently categorized me as an expendable, replaceable pawn.
Past that duty to be loyal and do as my father ordered, no one cared about me. No one would actually care about what happened to me—so long as I always did what I was told. Not a single person in the entire Petrov Family would wonder what happened to me. The guards out in the hall might worry for a moment because they’d look like they were slacking on the clock if something happened to me.
Beyond them, not a single soul would care if I was harmed. Or if I was manipulated and treated poorly. If I was subjected to whatever Viktor envisioned for my so-called punishment,
My younger brother would care. He was always the only one who would hope I was safe and all right. Maxim was all I had, but if something awful happened to me, I wouldn’t want him to have to suffer the gruesome facts of my being punished.
I lowered my gaze, swept away by this current of depression. The sobering thought that no one could care about me took me really low. I didn’t often let myself feel depressed, as if one could have that depth of control over me and my actions. Preferring to channel my negative thoughts and energy into anger was much better.
Forget it.
Just forget it, Irina.
Turning away from Viktor, I fought the longing to be facing him again. Over my shoulder, I tossed back one last insult. “This conversation is a waste of my time.”
I didn’t have a chance to slip away or leave with the last word. He lunged forward, shooting his hand at me until he grabbed hold of my wrist. He didn’t only reach out and snag my wrist, though. He pulled me back and spun me until my back slammed into the wall of a small alcove near the podium.
I let out a shocked exhale, the air punched out of me at his rough handling. He would be in so much trouble if word got out that he’d put his hands on me at all. Caged in, with my back against the cold wall, I held my breath with the certainty that he was leaning in to kiss me. Now, after every one of my twenty-three years, I could tip my chin up and prepare to be kissed. For the first time.
I’d never been kissed, never allowed to get close to a man to want to kiss him or let him kiss me.
“I mean it, Irina. Try me. Test me.”
I wanted to, so badly.
“Be a naughty girl for me and see what happens.”
It was too enticing to be given a free ticket to push this strong, sexy man. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I dove in to take advantage. He couldn’t have any idea what his words were doing to me. I was melting, so turned on I could barely think straight. My nipples beaded under my sweater and bra. My panties clung to me, stickier with my arousal on the fabric.
“Try me and see what happens.” He paired those serious yet taunting words at me with another inch lost between us. He slanted toward me, intent on getting intimate and being so bold as to kiss me.
I lowered my lids, wanting to close my eyes just to fully savor the touch of his mouth on mine.
But it didn’t happen. Our sexy, flirty moment stopped the second my phone buzzed. This tone indicated a phone call coming in from one of the two people who ever did call me—Maxim as video calls so he could read my lips and use sign language when he was permitted use of his guard’s phone, and my father.
The screen showed nothing that I’d recognize, but this call had to matter. It seemed similar to the number for the old guard who supervised my younger brother.
“Hello?” I stepped back from Viktor, needing space away from him to just think.
The call ended, but a text message popped up just as quickly.
Attacks are happening near the building. Do not approach until the scene is clear.
Near Maxim’s building.
The guard must have sent it to me and my usual driver. Anyone being attacked near the filthy building Maxim lived in would always be terrible news. Awful news that I couldn’t do anything about.
Please, please be safe. I wasn’t sure how I’d move on if I lost Maxim or he was hurt. Again, I hated that he had to be a prisoner in that specific building, in that lousy part of town. Being reminded of the situation doused the flames of attraction and desire that had been growing here with Viktor.
“I…” I backpedaled from Viktor, not letting his expression of surprise and confusion get to me. I couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. He wasn’t supposed to be talking with a student like that. And definitely not a student like me.
“I need to go.” Turning so quickly that I almost lost my balance, I ran toward the door.
My worry about my brother trumped this stubborn interest I couldn’t shake for Professor Viktor Remi.
Because if there was one thing I’d gamble on, it was that this interest would go nowhere.