Chapter 35
35
Sonny
T urning my back to him, I gently swing the door closed, doing my best attempt not to look down at exactly how close Hayes’s desk is to the window beside me. Close enough for someone to get a full view of . . . well, everything.
I’m so fucked.
“Are you still looking for a work study position?” Dr. Whitlock asks, jarring me.
His tone is a little more rushed than usual, and he’s loosened his tie to unbutton the top three buttons of his dress shirt since I saw him in class. Every time I see this man, he’s presenting a different version of himself.
“I was assigned to the cafeteria,” I say slowly, waiting for the shoe to drop. Surely, after this past weekend, he doesn’t want me to work for him.
“Tell them you’re switching over to psychology. If they have any questions, they can reach out to me directly.”
“I’m confused . . . I thought you didn’t want two assistants.”
“That’s true, I don’t. I’ve recently separated paths with my previous TA, so I’ll be needing someone to take over those duties.”
He fired Hayes?
“Are you sure you want me ? I’m not a graduate student. I’m not even an upperclassman. I’d hardly be able to host a lecture or explain assignments.”
And I obviously can’t be around you after what has happened without wanting to throw myself over a cliff.
“I don’t care about any of that. Plus, I’m sure Mr. Ashbluff would be able to help you settle into the role. You two are close, are you not?”
I scoff at that. I thought we were. “Hardly.”
“Interesting. I assumed you would be more selective about who you chose to break the university code of conduct with.”
My heart stops. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. Were we going to pretend that didn’t happen?” he asks, his tone laced with amusement.
“So, you were watching,” I accuse, crossing my arms over my chest.
I thought having him avoid the subject was torture . . . No, I’ve now decided that being called out on writhing around on a desk a few feet away from him while his assistant eats me out is much worse.
“You were in my office, Miss Ellery.” Something about the way he says my name this time—so condescending and playful—feels wrong.
I shake my head, as if denying it will make it all go away. “That is a complete violation of privacy.”
“What did you expect me to do? You two had me trapped the moment you came stumbling in here.”
“You could have sat there quietly until we were finished,” I whisper-hiss, checking behind me to ensure the door is securely closed.
I must be living in another dimension, speaking to him this way. All my tentative shyness has flown out the window with the snarky gleam in his eye, as if he’s only brought this up to toy with me. He clearly has no intention of punishing us for it.
“That would have taken all night,” he scoffs, throwing his hands in the air with a smile ghosting his lips. I can’t even recognize this teasing, cocky version of him. I cannot reconcile the man before me with the cold, aloof professor who hardly looks in my direction.
Something between us has shifted and I’m embarrassed that it’s taken me this long to realize it.
“It doesn’t matter. Hayes and I are no longer on speaking terms, and I hardly think he’ll be thrilled to train me as his replacement after the argument we just had.”
“I’m not interested enough to pry for the details,” he says in his usual dismissive tone.
Dropping my eyes to the carpet, I nod. “Thanks. That saves us loads of humiliation.”
“I’m not humiliated. Though, I suppose if you are, you shouldn’t have been so quick to lay yourself bare in such a public place.”
Leaning back in his chair, he taps a finger against the armrest with a calculated smirk.
My mouth pops open. “You’re unbelievable. I should report you.”
The smirk blooms into a full-blown smile, flashing all his teeth as I point my finger at him only serves to enrage me even further.
“And say what? You were seeking some kind of thrill, so you decided to have a hookup in my office with my assistant? Believe me, there was nothing worth reporting happening on that desk.”
I should keep my mouth shut—allow him to lead the conversation and see where he’s taking this. But between him now and Hayes earlier, these egotistical, elitist men have gotten so far under my skin, I can barely see straight.
“Don’t try to lie now, sicko. It was clearly good enough to keep you from looking away. Is privacy such a foreign concept to you?”
I’m sure there are a million ways we could digest his behavior and what it says about him as a person. Doing so would only put a microscope against what’s actually wrong with me.
“Ah, so you’re pretending you weren’t enjoying my eyes on you.”
“I’m not pretending anything, Professor .” I spit the title to prove how inappropriate he is.
Shrugging, he leans back into his chair and folds his hands across his lap, biting his lip like he’s contemplating even voicing his next words. Unfortunately for me, his ego and desire to watch me squirm wins out. “You tried to fake your orgasm.”
“I did not!”
“Oh, please. There’s no chance you’re going to convince me that you didn’t walk back to your dorm and immediately finish the job yourself. Who did you imagine was inside of you then?”
Damn this guy. Who speaks like this? So open and crass.
“What the hell do you know? You’re just some creepy weird guy who gets off secretly watching people have sex.”
“Secretly? You knew full well that I was there, and you liked it. You wished it was my face between your legs instead of his. That’s why you didn’t say anything when you saw me standing there—I was the perfect distraction from his subpar work.”
I practically choke on my tongue.
“You’re certifiable. I’m sure you can recognize how deranged this behavior is . . . ” I should stop there. Divulging any more details about that night will only make it harder to forget and move past. I’m just so fucking pissed off, I can’t stop my lips from moving.
“His work was ‘subpar’ because the asshat tried to slip me something and ended up drinking it himself. I may walk right out of here and report you myself,” I threaten again.
Dr. Whitlock stiffens, his expression falling into a dark mask of indifference. Those black eyes are the only indication he’s feeling anything at all, and they’re absolutely terrifying.
Rage. I can feel the unfiltered, hot fury radiating off him in waves. If it’s directed at me or Hayes—I have no idea.
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he leans forward against his desk, fingers laced together before him. The teasing, lighthearted mood from before has completely dissolved away, and in its place is nothing but a heavy, somber silence.
To my relief, he doesn’t pry for any more details or ask me to repeat myself.
Though, the alternative is much worse.
“I have nothing to hide, Miss Ellery. You do, ” he begins slowly, his voice a low, threatening rumble. “Any attempt at putting my job in jeopardy will only take away your chances here. You’ve finally got the position you want, working alongside the head of the Psychology Department within your first two months here. Imagine how that will look on your resume.”
“This is why you fired Hayes? To leverage the job over me?”
He shakes his head. “I fired Hayes because his work ethic was nonexistent, as you well know.” I roll my eyes at that, my cheeks heating. “I’m offering the job so I can keep a close eye on you.”
“And why the hell would you want to do that?”
“Because I can sense that you’re nothing but trouble. An annoying deviation from the plan. I can’t have you running loose any longer.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I relax back into the chair the same way he is. If he’s going to try to corner me, I’m at least going to put up a good fight. “Are you sure you aren’t just jealous?”
His brows pull together in a scowl as he rears back. “Of what?”
I bite my lip, tightening my arms to push my tits together a little more. His dark gaze flicks downward before he senses the trap and they jump back up.
“Hayes was taking his fair share of me that night. Maybe you didn’t like being stuck on the other side of the glass, forced to watch it happen.”
He barks out a laugh, surprising me so much, I jump in my chair.
“I can assure you, my needs are well taken care of by women who I’m sure are far more experienced. I don’t need my assistant’s leftovers, especially when they’re taken without permission.”
My cheeks and neck are reddened with embarrassment, but I still scramble to recover. He won’t see the disappointment that’s sinking in my chest.
“Oh yes, the school counselor,” I smile, twirling my hair around my finger.
“Among others,” he agrees. Bastard .
“I apologize. I didn’t realize you liked your women so . . . ” I circle my hand in the air between us, pretending to search for the word. “Loose.”
My heart kicks up in my chest as I watch the insult settle in, amusement crossing his face before he schools his expression back into neutrality. Guilt creeps into the back of my mind for speaking about Miss Mercer so poorly, but I shove it aside.
This is good. At least he doesn’t look like he wants to murder me anymore.
“I think the word you were looking for was capable . I like a woman who is capable of handling my . . . unique needs.”
“Sure. We’ll say that.” Standing, I shrug and turn toward the door. My head is pounding from the blood rushing through it as my cortisol levels skyrocket, but I’m so close to getting out of here without it being blatantly obvious that he’s affecting me.
“I’m late for my next class. Send me an email with the details of the TA position, and I’ll consider it.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I’ve insulted you.”
“No, I’ve just realized that you’re not a person I enjoy being in the same room with for any extended period.”
Turning away again, I make it one step toward the door before he’s standing in front of me, blocking my way out. A large hand wraps around the side of my neck, pulling my back into his chest until his mouth lines up with my ear. I pull away, but he only strengthens his grip.
“I’m man enough to admit I was bothered watching you suffer through his blind assault on your body,” he whispers in a heady breath that sends shockwaves down my spine, and my grip against the doorframe goes slack. “Believe me, Little Nightmare, if it were my tongue buried inside of you, there wouldn’t be a single thing that could distract you. God himself could appear above your head, and you’d have no idea.”
His fingers release their grip on me, and I’m nearly catapulted down the stairs before I catch myself on the door jamb and stumble forward. When I turn back toward him, he’s already taken a few steps back, distancing himself.
“Have a nice evening, Miss Ellery,” he coos in an unctuous tone, as if nothing happened.
I don’t bother arguing. Every cell in my body is screaming for me to put as much distance between me and this man as possible, and I have no intention of ignoring them.