Chapter 4 Lachlan
LACHLAN
Three days.
It's been three fucking days since I stood in that classroom and looked into Tessa O'Reilly's face while pretending I didn't know exactly how she tastes.
Three days of barely sleeping, replaying every sound she made, every way her body responded to mine. Three days of telling myself I can handle this. That seeing her twice a week in class is manageable. That I'm in control.
I'm not in control.
I'm standing at my office window, watching rain hammer against the glass like it's trying to break through, and all I can think about is her.
My phone buzzes. Email notification.
Reminder: Office hours today, 2-4 PM.
Fuck.
I don't want to sit in this cramped temporary office in the psychology building, pretending to care about graduate students' questions about deviant behavior when I'm the biggest deviant of all.
I check my watch. 3:47 PM. No one's come to office hours yet. Good.
The fire alarm screams to life.
"Fuck," I mutter, grabbing my coat, wincing at the sound.
The hallway fills with students and faculty, everyone moving toward the exits in that half-annoyed, half-compliant shuffle that comes with campus evacuations. False alarm, probably. They happen all the time in these old buildings.
I head for the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. Just get outside, wait for the all-clear, go home, and…
Someone crashes into me on the landing.
I catch her automatically, hands going to her waist to steady her, and my entire body goes stiff.
Tessa.
She's soaked, her sweater clinging to her, hair plastered to her face. She must've been caught in the downpour before the alarm even went off. And now she's here, in my arms, looking up at me with those wide eyes that haunt my fucking dreams.
"Professor Cain," she breathes, stepping back quickly. Too quickly. Like I burned her.
"Ms. O'Reilly. We should keep moving."
"Right."
She moves past me down the stairs, and I follow, keeping distance between us, trying not to notice the way her jeans hug her hips, and the way those hips felt in my hands.
She reaches the door first and pushes.
Nothing happens.
She pushes again, harder. "It's stuck."
"Let me." I move closer, trying the handle myself. It doesn't budge. Old building, shitty maintenance.
I try the door above us. Locked. Security protocol during evacuations.
Perfect.
"We're trapped," Tessa says quietly.
"I’m sure maintenance will get to us."
I pull out my phone. No signal in the stairwell. "They're probably sweeping floor by floor."
The space suddenly feels very small. We're on a landing between floors, concrete walls on three sides, barely enough room for two people. And one of those people is her.
She's shivering, arms wrapped around herself. Her sweater's thin and soaked through.
I shrug off my coat and hold it out. "Here."
"I'm fine."
"You're freezing. Take it."
She hesitates, then takes the coat, wrapping it around her shoulders. It swallows her. Something primal twists in my gut at seeing her in my clothes.
Stop. Stop thinking like that.
We stand in silence. The alarm's still blaring somewhere distant, muffled by concrete and steel. And Tessa's right there, close enough to touch, looking anywhere but at me.
"So," she says finally. "This is awkward."
Despite everything, I almost laugh. "That's one word for it."
I move to the opposite wall, putting as much distance between us as possible. Which isn't much.
"Sheriff Cain," she says suddenly.
The warmth drains from my skin. "What?"
"I looked you up." Her eyes meet mine. "Raven's Creek, Nevada."
Fuck.
"That was a long time ago," I say.
"Five years." She's still looking at me, and I can't read her expression. "You saved twenty-three women. It was national news."
"And then I resigned. You probably found that too."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you leave? You were a hero. You…"
"I'm not talking about this."
But she doesn't back down. "You go to that club to protect people, don't you? That's what you were doing. Watching the women. Making sure no one got hurt."
How does she see that? How does she see through me so easily?
"Stop." I push off the wall, closing the distance between us without meaning to. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Then tell me."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because." I stop myself, because if I start talking about Raven's Creek, about the girls I found too late, about the ones who didn't make it, I'll break apart. And I can't break apart.
She's watching me, and I can see her mind working, putting pieces together. "Something happened. Something that made you…"
"Tessa. Don't."
"I can't stop thinking about you," she whispers. "I know we can't do this. I know it's wrong. But I keep replaying that night. The way you touched me. The way you made me feel. I've never… I've never felt anything like that."
I should shut this down and put walls up so high she can't possibly climb them.
But I'm staring at her mouth, and all I can think about is how it felt against mine.
"You need to stop," I say, but the words have no force behind them.
"Why?" She's close now, so close I can feel the heat of her through wet clothes. "Because you're my professor? Or because you feel it too and it scares you?"
All of the above.
"This can't happen." Even as I say it, my hand comes up, fingers brushing her jaw. Her skin is cold from the rain, and I want to warm her.
"I know," she breathes.
"I could lose my job."
"I know."
My thumb drags along her bottom lip. She parts her mouth, and I press the pad of my thumb inside, circling it once against her tongue. Her eyes flutter, but she doesn’t pull away.
Neither do I.
"Someone could come through that door any second."
"I know."
That’s all it takes to break me.
I surge forward, capturing her mouth with mine, stealing the breath straight from her lips. Her hands clutch at my shirt, dragging me closer, and I don’t resist. Control slips clean out of reach, and I let it.
This is insane. We're in a stairwell. Anyone could find us. But I can't stop.
I pin her against the wall, my body caging hers.
“You are doing this to me. I’m a man in control, always have been. But you… you make me lose it. You make me want to break every fucking rule.”
She opens her mouth but I’m done with words. My hands go to my belt, unbuckling it quickly. I slide the leather free, looping it in my hands.
I wrap the belt around her mouth, pulling it tight between her lips like a gag, buckling it behind her head. Her muffled gasp sends a jolt to my cock.
“No more questions. No more talking.”
I spin her around, shoving her chest against the wall, her hands braced on the concrete. My fingers tear at her jeans, yanking them down with her panties, baring her perfect ass.
“Look at this,” I say, slapping her ass hard. “Look what you’re making me do.”
I grip her hair, pulling her head back, arching her spine. My other hand frees my aching cock.
“This won’t happen again,” I snarl, rubbing my cock against her soaking pussy, teasing her entrance. “You hear me? This is the last time.”
She moans in protest and I slam into her from behind. Her muffled grunt through the belt is all I need to hear.
I don’t ease in. I don’t give her time to think. I fuck her hard, each thrust pounding the questions out of her head and replacing them with something I can control.
My hand tightens in her hair, yanking just enough to arch her back, to force her to take me deeper.
I need her distracted. I need this more than I should.
“Fuck, you feel good,” I rasp, slowing for a moment, letting her feel every inch of my length. “You want to know me, Tessa? This is the only way you’ll know me.”
She moans through the belt, her body begging for more even if her mouth can’t. I spank her again, harder this time.
“That’s it, take it,” I growl.
I thrust in slowly, dragging out to the tip before slamming back in. Her grunts turn to whimpers as her pussy pulses around me.
“I don’t do this…. I break my rules… but you... you’re under my fucking skin.”
I reach around, finding her clit, rubbing rough circles as I pound into her.
“Come on my cock,” I order, grazing my teeth along her neck. “Show me how much you love being fucked like this.”
She explodes, a muffled scream vibrating through the belt. Her juices coat my cock and I lose it, slamming harder, chasing my own release.
“Fuck,” I growl, spilling deep inside her.
I pull out slowly, watching my come drip from her swollen pussy. I unbuckle the belt from her mouth, tossing it aside, and spin her to face me.
“Don’t say a word,” I warn. “This doesn’t change anything. You’re my student. This was a lapse. Never again.”
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
"Is it?"
The door above us rattles. A key turns in the lock.
"Step back," I tell her, and she does, moving to the opposite wall, fixing her clothes as I zip up.
By the time the maintenance guy opens the door, we're standing apart, professional distance between us. He's holding a toolbox and looking apologetic.
"Sorry about that, folks. Door jams sometimes during alarms. You two okay?"
"Fine. Thank you."
Tessa just nods.
We file out past him, and I force myself not to look at her or reach for her. Not to drag her into the nearest empty room and go again and again.
But as we reach the building exit, she pauses, turning back to me. Her eyes hold everything we can't say out loud.
Then she walks away, disappearing into the rain.