Chapter 19 #2
“Good,” he said firmly, the single word sparking heat in my belly. My thighs tensed. “It doesn’t sound like you need my help at all. Your analysis is perfect.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice suddenly soft. Shy.
Good. Perfect.
The words lingered in my head, drifted between my legs.
“My only feedback would be trying to gain some confidence in your work. That—” he gestured to my statistical analysis portion on the screen “—is going to be the best one I’ll read for this lab.
Most groups don’t take it seriously, which is fine because it’s not a huge portion of the grade, but I like that you did it well.
Thoroughly. Thoughtfully. It makes a difference. ”
His praise was warm on my skin, adding to the lust growing hot in my core. I fought the urge to cover my face, my shyness only getting worse now that he was being so generous.
“Thanks,” I said again, even softer now. He looked at my mouth whispering the word, then away.
Dr. Killshaw started to get up, my breath stalling in my lungs at the way his pants had bunched, clinging to his muscular thighs. Outlining his bulge. Jesus Christ. I swallowed. The fabric straightened once he was fully standing.
“Do you live on campus?” he asked.
I shook my head carefully, making sure not to look down at his body again. I was still sitting and the positioning was making me think of… “No.”
“Do you have a way of getting home?”
“Um—” I paused, my mouth half-open. What if I said no? What would he do? Don’t be stupid. “Yes. My friend is going to drive me.”
I couldn’t tell if he was relieved. His following nod was noncommittal.
“Be safe. I’ll see you in lecture, Dakota.”
“I will. Bye,” I said lamely as he strode across the room and disappeared into the hallway, tension in his shoulders.
The second he was out of earshot, I released a long exhale, shaking out my hands to dissipate some of the tension in my fingers, which had been clenched almost the entire conversation. There was no way I’d be able to focus on my lab report now.
Not when my body was this keyed-up.
Not when the sound of his voice was branded into my mind, playing on repeat, stoking the fire low in my stomach. His stare on my face. His casually dominant posture. His praise. The way he looked kind of tired, less put-together than usual.
The fact that I’d gotten to see him that way—unpolished, messy—was making me warm.
Me : Hi. How much longer until you’re done?
Mila : Probably about thirty minutes. You can walk over to med campus and I’ll met you outside when I’m done. I’m parked in that usual lot
Me : Sounds good. I’ll be there
I packed all my things in my bag, my muscles humming with anticipation. Then I slipped out into the hallway, heading towards the elevators, subconsciously checking to see if Dr. Killshaw was still here somewhere, but I didn’t see him.
Punching the call button for the elevator, I shifted my weight from foot to foot, watching the button glow and the numbers on the display tick higher as the car rose to the deserted sixth floor.
It arrived with a chime and I stepped inside, hitting the button for the first floor, and then the one to shut the doors.
An arm reached between the doors as they slid shut, halting their progress.
I shuffled back a few steps, eyes wide, until my back bumped the metal wall and my fingers wrapped around the rail. Dr. Killshaw entered the elevator, a bag slung over his shoulder and his jacket folded over his arm, hands tucked in the pockets of his slacks.
I opened my mouth, maybe to say something, but then shut it.
Neither of us spoke.
The doors slid shut, and the car began its smooth descent.
He moved to the side wall, resting his back against the stainless steel panel, his eyes shut as his head leaned back. The soft light filtering down from the ceiling highlighted the carved planes of his face, a slight shadow below his Adam’s apple.
It was silent, save for the sound of the elevator beeping as we went past each floor.
His eyes slid open halfway, lids heavy as he watched my face. Still, he didn’t speak a word. Neither did I. I just let him look at me.
Carefully, his stare slipped downwards, lingering on my neck, my chest, falling lower. There was a measure of restraint in it, something unspoken when he made eye contact with me again, as if to say You think you know what I’m doing, but you can’t prove anything.
The atmosphere was charged, electric and heavy in the depths of my lungs.
He shifted his stance.
I could feel every inch of empty space between us like a rope pulling taut. The air in the elevator felt constricting, my body warm in the small space.
I swore I could hear him breathing.
Can you hear me breathing?
Can you hear how hard my heart is beating right now?
Do you like it?
Do you want to make it beat harder?
The car slowed to a stop and the doors opened.
Dr. Killshaw nodded slightly, telling me to go first. I did, gripping the strap of my bag in my fist, acutely aware of his eyes on my back now.
Heading towards the door, I cast a quick look over my shoulder, finding Dr. Killshaw going the opposite way, towards the back of the building.
I lingered for an instant, watching the slope of his shoulders, watching him rake his fingers through his hair, then I pushed out the door into the cool night.
Stars shone in a net of glittering pinpricks above campus, somehow easier to see when I wasn’t looking directly at them. A breeze was winding between buildings and lifting the hairs around my face, spreading goosebumps up my arms.
My phone vibrated.
Mason : You can’t ignore me forever
Me : Watch me
My fingers circled my phone, squeezing tighter as I threw his own disgusting words back in his face. Watch me. Watch me ruin your life.
He’d asked me if I hated him for what he did a week ago. I didn’t know what to respond then. I hated him for getting under my skin like he had, for carelessly messing me up inside, for making me want something I knew was bad for me. But I wasn’t ready to tell him all that yet.
I feared a conversation like that would lead back to my past, and I’d never be ready to tell him about the things still haunting me.
I shoved my phone in my bag, pretending I didn’t feel the buzz of his response as I started walking across campus.
It didn’t take me long to get over to the bench I usually sat on when waiting for Mila, but my mind was torn up the entire way.
There were so many things I didn’t want to think about, and avoiding them all had turned my skull into a minefield.
Tears stung my eyes but I blinked them away, sitting on the bench, the metal cold through my jeans.
Mila eventually found me on the bench, looking as tired as I’d ever seen her.
“Are you okay?” I asked, hooking my pinkie with hers as we crossed the parking lot.
“It’s just heavy shit sometimes. When you really think about it. You know? Almost makes me wish I didn’t choose pediatrics.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Her finger squeezed mine and she was quiet for a minute before speaking again.
“I know this is wrong to say, but sometimes seeing kids with cancer is really fucking hard, like harder than seeing adults dealing with the same thing. I know that’s horrible.
Cancer is horrible for everyone. That’s why I want to help people beat it. ”
“But there’s something uniquely painful about watching a toddler go through chemo,” I offered.
“Yeah. Or getting results back from genetic testing and seeing their neuroblastoma tumor has MYCN amplification—you don’t know what that is, but just know it’s bad fucking news. Exactly the thing you don’t want to hear. And that was part of what we saw today.”
“I’m so sorry, Mila.” We stopped just behind the dented back bumper of her car. “You’re so tough. I love you. I could never do what you’re doing.”
“I love you too.”
I hugged her; she hugged me back.
“Do you want me to stay over or something? If you need some support.”
“It’s okay.” She laughed softly. “I’ll just bother Vanya. I know he’s awake, because I can see he’s playing video games right now.”
Mila held her phone up, pointing to a little green dot next to his picture.
“He’ll probably be grumpy, though. Ostav’ menya v pokoye, Ludmila! Ya zanyat!” she mocked in a funny voice that actually sounded a lot like Ivan. I didn’t know exactly what the Russian meant, but I was certain I’d heard that exact phrase more than once at their apartment. “Anyway. Let’s drive.”
We hopped in her SUV and she turned the music all the way up, singing at the top of her lungs with all the windows down. I joined her, elation expanding in my chest.
Dr. Killshaw hadn’t ignored me.
I made that happen.
He could pretend not to notice me all he wanted, but I knew the truth. I’d seen it in his eyes. In the past weeks and again tonight. That knowledge burned like a flame in my core, licking my insides with sinful heat, glowing bright and dangerous.
I liked it.
Mila turned the music down when we pulled off the main road into my trailer park—so as not to wake up my neighbors. I blew her kisses, promising we could hang out tomorrow, then skipped up the steps and unlocked my front door.
Inside, I headed straight to my bedroom, stripping my clothes off and slamming the door behind me. Mila probably wasn’t even off my street yet, but I didn’t care. I knelt at my bedside table in my underwear and socks, digging in the drawer to get my vibrator out, unable to wait another second.
My blood was on fire.
Flopping on my bed, I spread my legs and lightly ran my fingertips along the cotton covering my pussy, feeling the dampness of the fabric while I bit my lip. My chest started rising and falling faster as I traced over the subtle shape of my swollen clit through the fabric.
Every memory from earlier was playing in a montage in my brain.
Especially the one where he’d stood up and I’d gotten a quick look at his dick size. Not hard, of course. But…I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
My other hand slid up my stomach to grab my breast and I tilted my head back. Electricity was skimming the length of my bare skin, crackling, lighting me up. I kept teasing myself, my fingers itching to grab my vibrator, but I forced myself to wait, to draw it out.
Micah.
Heavy heat settled in my veins, simmering and simmering.
The pad of my finger brushed back and forth over my clit gently. I wanted so much more. Needed so much more. He looked at me as if he was my most natural predator, and I wanted those teeth inside of me, tearing, claiming.
Sweat cooling on my back, I finally took off my underwear and grabbed my vibrator, trembling with anticipation. My thumb pressed the button to turn it on and I rolled it against my clit softly, breathy moans building in my chest.
Fantasies filled my head.
Sucking his cock under the desk, getting fucked hard while bent over it, sitting on the edge while he licked my pussy. Indulgent, dominant, controlling, filthy. Oh, fuck.
Fuck.
Just, fuck.