Chapter 5 Tessa
TESSA
My phone buzzes for the third time in an hour. I stare at the screen, at the name I thought I'd deleted from my life, and my stomach twists.
Derek. My ex.
I silence it and go back to my textbook. Or try to. The words blur together, meaningless paragraphs about cognitive dissonance and moral reasoning that I can't seem to absorb, because all I can think about is Lachlan.
My phone buzzes again. Derek. Again.
"What the hell," I mutter, declining the call. What could he possibly want?
I turn the phone face-down and force myself to focus on the chapter about ethical decision-making in extreme circumstances. The irony isn't lost on me. I'm literally studying the psychology of why people cross moral boundaries while actively crossing every boundary imaginable with my professor.
My mind drifts back to the stairwell. I close my eyes, heat stirring between my thighs at the memory.
My phone lights up with a text this time.
Derek: Were you at some kind of sex club the other night?
What. The. Fuck.
How would he know that? How could he possibly know that? I was wearing a mask. Everyone was wearing masks. That was the whole point.
I block his number before he can respond, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I can't think straight. The apartment walls feel like they're closing in. I need air. I need to move. I need to not be sitting here spiraling about my ex somehow knowing about the sex club, and how he could possibly know that.
My phone rings, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
Madison.
Thank God. Something normal.
"Hey," I answer, trying to sound casual.
"Girl, you will not believe who I just ran into at the library." Her voice is bright, excited. "Professor Cain. Looking all broody and tortured. It's really adding to his appeal, I'm not gonna lie."
I haven't told Madison that Professor Cain is the man from the club. Not because I don't trust her. But saying it out loud would open a door I’m not ready to walk through.
"Oh really?" I say, feigning disinterest, like the mention of his name doesn’t send a bolt of electricity through me.
"Well, he was walking toward the psych building from the library. Probably working late. I tried to say hi, be friendly, you know? But he totally ignored me and just kept walking. Very mysterious. Very hot." She pauses. "Anyway, wanna get drinks?"
"I can't," I say automatically. "I need to study."
"You're always studying. Come on, one drink."
"Rain check? I really need to get through this chapter."
She sighs dramatically. "Fine. But you owe me. And you've been weird lately. Are you okay?"
"Derek just texted me," I blurt out. "He asked if I was at some kind of sex club. How the hell does he know?"
"What?" Madison's voice pitches up. "Was he there? Did he see you?"
"Derek at a place like that?" I shake my head even though she can't see me.
"Yeah. He's way too vanilla, too boring for something like that."
"Did you happen to tell anyone we went there? Anyone he might know?"
Madison pauses. "No. Absolutely not. Also, who cares? He doesn't have any claim over you anymore."
She's right. Of course she's right.
"I guess I just don't want him knowing my business," I say quietly.
But that's not the whole truth. The real truth is I don't want him, or anyone, knowing about Lachlan. Because if people start asking questions, it could screw everything up. Whatever "everything" even is at this point.
"You're allowed to have a life without Derek," Madison says firmly. "You're allowed to go wherever you want, do whatever you want, fuck whoever you want. He lost that privilege when he broke up with you."
"You're right. Thanks, Mad."
"Always am. Now go study, nerd. Text me later."
We hang up, and I sit there, staring at the wall. Lachlan might be at his office. Right now. Working late. At least, that's what Madison said. He was heading toward the psych building half an hour ago.
I should not go there. I absolutely should not go there.
But my body's already moving, grabbing my coat, shoving my phone in my pocket. I'm out the door before I can talk myself out of it.
The psychology building is dark except for one light. Third floor. Corner office.
The temporary office he's using while he fills in for Professor Harlan.
I stand outside in the rain and stare up at that single illuminated window. This is insane. What am I doing?
I should turn around. Go home. Study like I said I would.
But my feet are already carrying me to the door.
The building's unlocked. It's always unlocked for grad students with late-night research sessions. I take the stairs, my heart pounding harder with each step.
His door is closed, but I can see light spilling from underneath. I raise my hand to knock, hesitate, then force myself to do it.
"Come in."
His voice, muffled through the door, sends shivers down my spine.
I push the door open.
Lachlan's at his desk, surrounded by papers and books, his laptop glowing in front of him. He looks up, and the moment he sees me, his entire body goes rigid.
"Tessa." He stands abruptly, like I'm a threat he needs to face head-on. "What are you doing here?"
"I…" What am I doing here? "I needed to see you."
"You shouldn't be here."
"I know." I step inside and close the door behind me. The click of the latch holds weight. "But I needed to talk to you. About…"
"No." He cuts me off, moving around the desk but keeping distance between us. "Whatever you're about to say, don't. I told you. We've already crossed too many lines. We can't keep doing this."
"Lachlan…"
"Professor Cain," he corrects sharply. "That's what you need to call me. That's what I am."
Anger flares in my chest. "Fine. Professor Cain."
"This isn't happening." He moves closer, and I spot the conflict warring in his eyes. "It can't happen. You need to understand that."
"I'm not a child." I close more distance between us. "I'm not some naive undergrad who doesn't know what she's getting into. I'm a grad student. I'm twenty-three years old. I'm old enough to make my own choices."
"You don't know what you're saying." But his eyes betray him, darkening with the same hunger I saw in the stairwell and at the club. "I'm supposed to protect you. That's what I do. I protect people. I keep them safe. And being with me, letting this continue, it's not safe."
"I don't care."
"You should care."
"And what about what I want?" I reach up, my hand hovering near his face. "What if what I want is you?"
"You can't want me." But he doesn't move away. "I'm not… I can't give you what you deserve. I'm too fucked up. Too broken."
"From Raven's Creek." I say it softly, watching his reaction. "From the girls you saved. The ones you didn't. You carry it with you. The guilt. The trauma. I get it."
"Stop."
"You watch over people because you couldn't save them all."
"I said stop."
"Make me." The challenge is out before I can stop it.
"What do you want me to do?" He takes a step closer, and suddenly he's towering over me. "To take you right here in my office? To fuck you on my desk where anyone could walk in? Is that what you want?"
"Yes." The word comes out breathless.
"Fuck, Tessa." He's breathing hard now, control fraying. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"Then show me." I reach for him, my hand finally making contact with his chest. I can feel his heart racing under my palm. "Stop telling me all the reasons we can't do this and just…"
"You need to leave." But even as he says it, his hand comes up to cover mine, holding it against his chest. "Right now. Before I do something we both regret."
"You keep saying that." My free hand moves to his belt, and I feel him tense. "But earlier, in that stairwell, you couldn't keep your hands off me. You couldn't stop. So tell me, Professor, are you really going to send me away? Or are you going to stop lying to both of us?"
Something in him snaps. I can see it in his eyes, the moment his control shatters.
"You want the truth? The truth is I think about you constantly. Every second of every day. You scare the fuck out of me, because for the first time in five years, I feel something. And I don't know what to do with that."
His thumb traces my bottom lip. "I can't drag you into my mess. I can't ruin your life because I'm too selfish to stay away."
"I'm already in it." I turn my head slightly, pressing a kiss to his palm. "I've been in it since Halloween night."
He closes his eyes like my words are painful. "Tessa…"
His eyes snap open, and the look in them steals my breath.
Then he's moving.
His hand fists my hair, and he yanks me against him, his mouth crashing down on mine. I moan against his lips, and he takes advantage. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about the kiss.
My hands grip his shirt, trying to pull him closer even though there's no space left between us. He walks me backward until my back hits the wall beside his desk, pinning me there with his body.
"This is a mistake," he growls against my mouth between kisses. "Such a fucking mistake."
"Then make it." I bite his bottom lip, and he groans.
Suddenly his hands are everywhere, like he’s trying to punish me for making him lose control. He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand while the other slides down my body, gripping my breast so hard I know it’ll leave bruises.
“You’re gonna regret this. You’re gonna fucking hate me, Tessa.”
“I won’t,” I gasp, arching into him.
He lets out a guttural sound and releases my wrists only to grab my thighs, lifting me. My legs wrap around his waist, the heat of his body searing through my clothes. He carries me to his desk, shoving papers and books to the floor with a reckless sweep of his arm.
He sets me on the edge of the desk, his hands tearing at my clothes with a ferocity that I’ve never seen before. The sound of tearing fabric only fuels the ache between my thighs.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he growls, yanking down my pants.
His fingers dig into my thighs, spreading them wide, and I whimper at the roughness.
“You think you want this, but you don’t know what I’m capable of, Tessa. I’m not your fucking Prince Charming. I’m not gentle. I’m not good.”
“I don’t want you to be,” I challenge.
He grabs my panties, tearing them off in one swift motion, the fabric stinging against my skin before it’s gone. He steps back, just enough to undo his belt.
“Last chance, Tessa. Tell me to stop before I ruin you.”
“I want you,” I say, reaching for him, my fingers wrapping around his length.
“You think you can handle me?” he growls, grabbing my hips and pulling me to the very edge of the desk. “You think you can take all this fucked-up shit I carry? Fine. Let’s see how much you can take.”
He doesn’t ease into it. He thrusts into me, the stretch and burn so intense I cry out, my hands gripping the edge of the desk to keep myself grounded. It’s too much, too fast, but it’s so fucking good.
“You shouldn’t let me do this to you. You shouldn’t let me fuck you like this, right here on my desk.”
“Don’t stop.”
He curses, his thrusts growing harder, deeper, the desk creaking under us as he pounds into me.
“You like that, don’t you? You like being spread out on my desk. So fucking desperate for my cock.”
“Yes,” I gasp, my head falling back as he hits a spot inside me that makes me see stars.
He pulls out suddenly, leaving me empty and aching. I whimper in protest, but before I can say anything, he flips me over, bending me over the desk so my chest is pressed against the cold wood.
“You want me to break you? Then you’re gonna take everything I give you, and you’re not gonna come until I say so. You hear me?”
I nod, my cheek pressed against the desk. He grabs my hips, pulling them back, and thrusts into me again, harder this time.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his hands gripping me tightly as he sets a punishing pace. “So fucking tight, so perfect.”
I moan, pushing back against him. The pressure is building, coiling tight in my core, but every time I get close, he slows down, pulling back just enough to keep me on the edge.
“You don’t get to come yet. You’re gonna wait until I’m ready to let you.”
“Lachlan, please, I need…” I beg, my voice breaking as I claw at the desk.
“You need what?” he mocks, his hand sliding around to my front, finding my clit and circling it with slow, torturous strokes. “You need my cock? My fingers? You’re so fucking greedy, Tessa.”
I’m panting, my body shaking as he keeps me teetering on the edge, denying me the release I’m desperate for.
“Please. Please, Lachlan, let me come.”
“Not yet,” he growls, his fingers speeding up just enough to make me whimper, then slowing again. “You’re gonna take it like this, Tessa. You’re gonna take every fucking inch of me, and you’re gonna wait until I say you can come. You wanted this. You wanted me to ruin you. So take it.”
I’m a mess, moaning and writhing against the desk, my body completely at his mercy. He’s relentless, his thrusts deep and unyielding, his fingers teasing my clit with just enough pressure to keep me on the brink.
He groans, his rhythm faltering slightly, and I know he’s close too, fighting to hold on to his control.
“Fuck, Tessa,” he says, his voice strained. “Beg for it. Beg me to let you come.”
“Please, Lachlan,” I sob. “Please let me come. I need it. I need you. I’ll do anything, just please.”
He leans down, his chest pressed against my back, his lips brushing my ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you beg. Come for me, Tessa. Come on my cock.”
I shatter, my orgasm crashing through me as I cry out his name. It’s overwhelming, almost painful in its intensity. He doesn’t slow his pace, fucking me through it.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans, his hands tightening on my hips as his rhythm stutters. “You’re gonna make me come, Tessa. You’re gonna make me lose it.” He thrusts deep one last time, spilling inside me as he rides out his release.
For a moment, we’re still, our bodies pressed together, the only sound is our heavy breathing and the faint hum of the office’s fluorescent lights.
Then he pulls back, and I feel the loss of him like a physical ache. He helps me stand, turning me to face him.
“You’re gonna destroy me, Tessa. You’re gonna fucking ruin me, and I don’t know if I can stop it.”
“Then don’t,” I say, leaning up to kiss him, slow and deep, pouring everything I feel into it.
His hands slide into my hair, holding me close, and for the first time, I feel him give in completely, like he’s finally letting himself want me without fighting it.