Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
I woke up in the morning to my blaring alarm. I had to avoid the temptation to throw my phone across the room just to shut it up, my head pounding mercilessly at every ring. I moaned, rolled over, and stuffed my head under the pillow.
What day was it? What had even happened last night? Why, oh why, did I drink so much?
Then a whole mess of information rushed back to my poor, alcohol-soaked brain. The bar. Adrian. The belt. The way his tongue had . . . oh, god.
It was the first day of classes.
I tried to fling myself out of bed, but my head swam and I had to stop and stay sitting at risk of throwing up all over my carpet. Charles poked his head in the door with a little mrrow? , likely concerned that he had yet to get his breakfast this morning.
"Sorry, Charlie," I moaned, holding my aching head. Why had I even let Maya convince me to go out?
Then again, if she hadn't I wouldn't have run into Adrian. I wouldn't have brought him back to my apartment, and we wouldn't have . . . I got goose bumps at the memory. Damn. I had rarely managed to orgasm with Ethan. In fact, trying to cum during sex with him was more of a chore than it was worth and he had never seemed to care one way or another, so I had usually just faked it. But with Adrian . . . god damn , I couldn't have stopped myself if I had tried. It was like my body had been perfectly under his control. Just thinking of the way he had bound me up, helpless with my legs up and exposed to him, was actually getting me all hot and bothered again despite the horrible hangover.
And I had been too drunk to even get his number. Damn it.
That was when I noticed that my bedside table had been mysteriously cleared of mugs. Only a single glass of fresh water and a small hand-written note remained. I drank the water thankfully, draining all of it before I picked up the note.
I hope this helps with the headache.
Thanks for a great night.
If you want more like it (when I don't have whiskey-dick, ha), just text me anytime.
Adrian's phone number was scrawled at the bottom. My heart skipped a beat. That had been whiskey-dick? What the hell was he like normally then? I stuffed the note in my pocket to put in my phone later, knowing I was running out of time. I couldn't be late on the first day of classes.
One quick shower later and I was on my way to campus with a makeup-free face and my messy hair thrown up in a ponytail. I had put on a pair of stretchy skinny jeans for the first time in days and a loose white t-shirt. So much for being that super-prepared girl for the first day of class. I had tried really hard to be that girl my whole freshman year, and it had honestly been exhausting.
The campus was packed. There were easy-ups around every corner where eager smiling ASB members waited to direct nervous freshman around the massive campus. I was luckily already familiar with nearly every building except for the obscure computer science labs that were tucked in the far back corner. I luckily had time to grab a quick coffee at the Starbucks inside the library before dashing over to Advanced English Literature.
The auditorium was large, with seating for at least a hundred students. Blackwood University was known for its writing programs, so a good number of their student body (including myself) was involved in either a writing or English major. The seats were slowly being filled, and I paused at the top of the auditorium to figure out where I wanted to lay my claim for the rest of the semester.
"Hey Cass."
Oh no. No, no, no. It was Ethan, about to walk into the classroom. Even worse, he hadSophia with him. Gorgeous, absolutely-looked-ready-for-the-day, blonde, perky-breastedSophia. My stomach flipped over. I felt nauseous immediately.
"Hey," I said, my voice cracking. He brushed past me with a tight uncomfortable smile, and he and Sophia took seats at the very top of the auditorium. No way was I going to sit through this whole semester with them anywhere within my field of vision. I walked all the way down to the lowest row, and took a seat just to the right of the professor's desk. My hand shook as I tried to take a casual sip on my macchiato. I just had to ignore him.
Minutes ticked by and the auditorium was nearly filled, still with no sign of the professor. The conversation had begun to reach a crescendo of noise when a door slammed above, and "Good morning class!" quieted the talk down to mere murmurs.
"Sorry about my late arrival, I had a long night." Shoes tapped down the long auditorium steps. His voice sounded young, and strangely familiar. "I'm sure you all know the drill: one too many drinks and suddenly you're waking up in a stranger's apartment." That got a few chuckles from the crowd, including me. Who the hell was this guy? I turned, just as the professor reached the bottom of the stairs and proceeded to his desk.
Oh. No. Oh my god.
"With that being said, welcome to Advanced English Lit. I'm Adrian Blackwood, you can call me Mr. Blackwood, Adrian, I really don't care as long as it isn't "douchebag." I've been called that one few times."
More giggles. My mouth had dropped open and I couldn't seem to pick it back up off my desk. Adrian was dressed in grey slacks and a maroon collared shirt, his blonde hair combed but still loose and wavy. His eyes roamed over the classroom, surveying us, until they came to me.
He dropped his briefcase a little too hard on the desk. I snapped my mouth shut, wanting to melt under the desk. Adrian quickly made a point to look anywhere but at me.
" Okay ," he said softly, hissing between his teeth. "We'll start off with a little icebreaker. Don't worry, I'm not going to be taking roll call, there's way too many of you in here. Let me just tell you a little bit about myself." He casually seated himself at the edge of the desk, and his eyes flickered over me again, then quickly away. I couldn't stop staring.
"As I said, my name is Adrian Blackwood. I graduated from right here at Blackwood majoring in English, and I am actually still a Blackwood student." He looked at me again, as if to make a point. "I'm now working towards my Masters, in hopes of becoming a professor fulltime. That being said, me teaching this class does count towards my graduation, so if you could all please be respectful of that and not mess it up for me." He gave one of his charming, half smiles. He had really worked the crowd. Just glancing to my left I could see the adoring looks some of the girls – and a couple of the guys – were giving him. My stomach squeezed again, but this time it was with a strange possessiveness.
What the hell was wrong with me? How had I managed to have kinky, mind-blowing sex with my professor? Not that I could have possibly known – when he had mentioned classes I had thought he meant classes he was in , not teaching!
It's not that bad Cass, get a grip , I thought. He's still a student, he just happens to be going for a Masters. This isn't a big deal. This probably happens all the time.
Yeah. To judge by those lusty, small smiles he was getting, I was certain it happened all the time.
"First day will be pretty straightforward," he said, going to his briefcase and pulling out a packet of papers. "We'll go over the syllabus, a few expectations of what we'll cover, and hopefully get you all out of here early. So pull out your syllabus, hopefully you all printed them out."
Of course I had printed out nothing. He noticed.
"If you didn't, please share with your neighbor." Oh god, every look he gave me was giving me flashbacks. That mouth had been on me, inside me. I squeezed my legs together, trying to ignore the thoughts. How could I manage to say his name without remembering how I screamed it in ecstasy? I couldn't even look at him! He was wearing the same belt he had used to bind my hands together while he-
Jesus Christ, Cass, concentrate!
I didn't concentrate for a single second. The class passed in a blur. It felt as if Adrian and I made awkward eye contact every other minute. Finally, he said we were wrapped up for the day and would see us on Wednesday. I hurriedly began stuffing my notebook in to my bag, when his shadow fell over me.
"Would you mind waiting after class, for just a bit?" he said, his voice soft. I just nodded dumbly, and sat there as he attended to the line of questions from waitlisted and over-eager students. When the classroom was finally empty, I approached his desk.
"You're . . . a professor ?" I blurted, unable to control my shock any longer. He winced.
"I'm not exactly a professor yet," he said. He looked as nervous as I felt, and I realized that this really was a worse position for him. Teachers got fired for things like this.
"Look," he said. "I really am sorry. If I'd known . . . it doesn't matter. I'll do everything I can to help you get into another class."
"I . . . this is really the only class that will fit into my schedule," I said. We both stared for a few moments, at a loss. I shrugged. "I'll be fine. I don't mind, really. It'll be like last night never happened."
His dark eyes watched me carefully. "You're sure you're alright?"
"Definitely!" I said, with just a little too much cheerfulness. I wanted to dispel the tension desperately, and I really wanted to just be out of his presence so I could stop imagining him bending me over the desk.
He didn't seem convinced as he slowly clicked his briefcase shut. "Alright. If you're sure. I'll see you on Wednesday, Cassandra. Please don't forget the readings."
Or else what? was what I wanted to say, but I smothered the urge. Bad, Cass! Stop it.
"Readings, right, got it," I tried to make a smooth exit and almost tripped over the first stair. I felt his eyes on the back of my head the entire way up the stairs. It was only once I was finally outside the classroom that I felt like I could breathe again.