Chapter 39
Dr. Carter
One month left. What a spectacular, utterly transformative year it had been.
If someone had told me twelve months prior that I would have the fierce, brilliant girl from The Dam living under my roof—undressing under my gaze and challenging every clinical, orderly corner of my life—I would have dismissed it as an academic impossibility.
Back then, Alex’s life was an exhausting cycle of survival: sticky bar floors, stressing over her mother’s health, and staring down an electricity meter that threatened to empty her pockets.
Now, the pieces had finally fallen into place. Her father had a secure, respectable income. Her mother could breathe without the looming spectre of financial ruin. And Alex? She hadn't worked a gruelling late-night shift in months. She belonged right here, in the sanctuary we built.
Though right then, she was proving to be an incredibly distracting student.
From the podium, I could feel her eyes tracking me across the seminar room.
I was wearing the wine-coloured structured dress she’d helped me zip into that morning, paired with my sharpest heels.
I’d chosen it with deliberate intent, knowing precisely the type of quiet torture it would inflict on my beautiful, bratty girl.
Her Economic final coursework was due the following week, and it was already flawless.
I hadn't given her a First out of affection; I tore her early drafts apart with the same ruthless, analytical eye I applied to every student.
The only difference was that Alex got to press me against the mahogany desk, nibbling on my neck and taste-testing my lips between my critiques.
The heavy oak door clicked open, and Ms. Davies walked in to hand me a stack of administrative papers.
We exchanged a brief, perfectly civil murmur.
I noted the faint tension in the room, but internally, there was only peace.
When Alex had confessed to me about her panicked, reckless stunt with Billie—admitting she’d used the woman in a desperate bid to run from the terrifying weight of what she felt for me—I didn't destroy Ms. Davies' career.
Alex was the one who had broken my rules; therefore, Alex was the one who had earned the quiet, devastating punishments behind closed doors.
Punishments she would gladly beg for all over again.
As Billie turned to leave, she caught Alex's eye.
Alex offered her a genuine, redemptive smile, and Billie returned it softly.
I didn't feel a flicker of possessiveness. I knew Ms. Davies was a competent colleague, and more importantly, I knew exactly who owned Alex Fischer. I caught Alex's lingering gaze and shot her a look of dry amusement: You’re cute, and I’m honestly surprised you didn't check out her arse in that skirt.
"I miss you at The Dam," a whiny, dramatic voice cut through the quiet of the classroom.
It was Holly, leaning over her desk with her blonde curls spilling across her notes, pouting up at my girl. "It was always so much fun seeing you behind the bar. Mia is looking out for me—I haven't paid for a drink in weeks—but it’s not the same."
I pretended to organise the lecture slides on my laptop, but my focus narrowed entirely to the front row.
"I know, sorry sweetheart," Alex replied, her voice carrying a soft, nostalgic chuckle. "But moving on was the best thing for me."
"I get it," Holly shrugged, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Your dad’s job must be going well, then? Must be nice to actually have him home for dinner every day."
"My mum is loving it," Alex smirked, her tone laced with that beautiful, lazy confidence I adored. "But I haven't actually been there much to see it. I’ve moved in with my girlfriend."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Holly practically short-circuit. She stared at Alex, her jaw dropping for a full three seconds. "Wait. First of all, you have a girlfriend? And you’re serious enough to move in? How did I not know this? Why didn't you say anything?"
"She’s private," Alex murmured, her smirk widening. I could feel the heat of her gaze burning right through my back.
"Fucking hell, Alex! Tell me about her! What’s she like?"
I gripped the edge of my podium, my heart giving a strange, uncharacteristic thud as I waited for her response.
"Well," Alex began, her voice dropping into a warm, reverent cadence that made my breath catch in my throat. "She is the type of beautiful that makes you think a god has landed on earth. She’s soft, generous, and kind in ways I didn’t realise were possible from someone so... strong."
A fierce, overwhelming surge of love flooded my chest. Holly let out a high-pitched, ecstatic squeal that echoed off the ceiling, causing several students to snap their heads around.
I immediately masked my expression, lifting my chin to shoot their table a sharp, cool, authoritative warning glare. Holly didn't care in the slightest. "So, what’s her name?"
Alex’s eyes locked onto mine, a brilliant, challenging glint in their depths. "Her name is Carrie."
"Oh, that’s a nice name," Holly gushed, entirely blind to the fact that the woman she was talking about was currently stepping away from the podium to inspect her worksheet.
I glided over to their desk, the subtle scent of my perfume washing over Alex.
I didn't utter a word, but as I leaned over to review her notes, I looked straight into her eyes.
It was a deep, unhurried gaze meant to convey a single, absolute truth: I heard every word, and I am so hopelessly in love with you.
The seminar concluded, and the room drained of its colour and noise. Alex stayed behind, lingering by the door to bid Holly goodbye before turning back to me. She strolled up to my desk, her hips swaying with a casual, provocative confidence that told me she wanted to play.
"Dr. Carter," she said, her voice dripping with sweet, deliberate honey. "You look particularly nice today. That dress is... very professional."
I kept my eyes on my laptop for a beat longer, acutely aware that the classroom door was still wide open.
She was dancing right on the edge of a very strict boundary.
I shut the laptop with a decisive, commanding click, standing slowly to bring myself to my full height.
I leaned across the desk, lowering my voice to that velvety, dangerous register that I knew made her knees turn to jelly.
"Control yourself, Alex," I murmured, my eyes pinning her to the spot. "Unless you’d like to spend the rest of the afternoon in the library under my direct supervision. You are a student in this building, and you will behave like one."
The bratty smirk vanished from her face, replaced by a dazed, breathless smile. Safe. Submissive. Perfectly placed.
My expression softened, letting the strict academic mask slip just enough for her to see the woman underneath. "Since you didn't make your own way in today, darling, make sure you meet me at the faculty car park at exactly 6:15 p.m. Not a minute later."
I slid the strap of my leather satchel over my shoulder and brushed past her, ensuring the trail of my perfume left a distinct challenge in the air. As I reached the threshold, I glanced back over my shoulder, a wicked glint in my eyes.
"I believe your Mommy has some 'tending' to do tonight," I breathed, pitched perfectly for her ears alone. "And I’d hate to be late for our new seven o'clock rule."
At exactly 6:15 p.m., she appeared. The moment she stepped into my radius, I wrapped an arm securely around her waist, pulling her flush against my side to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.
"Ready to go home, darling?"
"Yeah, baby," she smiled, melting into my touch. "More than ready."
We began navigating the gravel toward my car when a sharp, aggressive exchange of voices broke the quiet of the faculty lot. Fifty feet away, past a row of sedans and SUVs, I spotted Ms. Davies.
And standing entirely too close to her was Mr. Hubbard.
Alex froze beside me. Hubbard was an insufferable, arrogant brute—a lecturer whose minor tenure had given him the delusional impression that he could treat female staff like conquests.
I felt Alex’s posture turn rigid as she watched the dynamic unfold.
Billie was backed against a parked vehicle, her hand extended like a fragile shield, while Hubbard wore an oily, predatory grin, encroaching on her personal space.
Before I could even formulate a strategy, Alex moved.
She didn't ask for permission. She didn't look back at me. Her stride was heavy, purposeful, and entirely fearless as she stormed directly into the fray. I watched with a mixture of intense pride and a dark, boiling rage as my girl stepped squarely into Hubbard’s space, forcing him to stumble back as she shielded Billie with her own body.
"Hey, Blondie," Alex whispered, giving Billie a calm, steadying smile.
I closed the distance behind them, my heels clicking like a death knell on the gravel. Hubbard’s oily bravado completely evaporated the moment he looked past Alex and met my eyes. I radiated a cold, lethal fury that had him frantically trying to piece his professional reputation back together.
"Where’s your car?" Alex asked firmly, ignoring the man entirely.
"It’s... it’s over there," Billie stammered, her eyes darting nervously between us.
"Well," Alex said, offering her hand with a grace that made my chest ache, "would you do me the honour of letting me walk you to your car?"
Hubbard didn't even attempt to speak. He read the absolute, unmitigated promise of destruction in my gaze and immediately began a cowardly retreat toward the faculty building.
"Let's get you to your car, Ms. Davies," I said, keeping my voice commanding yet deliberately gentle.