Luckily, we’ve reached the part of my course I’m most familiar with. “As someone who works with law enforcement, I can tell you, the role of a criminal psychologist can be invaluable. Not only can they guide questions, they can give important insight.”

  A hand rises in the group, and it’s a female student who doesn’t talk much.

  “Yes, Miss…” I don’t remember her name. “You have a question?”

  “You were a member of law enforcement?” Her voice is breathy, a little gushing.

  “I’m actually a partner in a private investigative firm in Hamiltown.”

  “Oh…” She sits back in her seat, her face turning bright red.

  I’m not sure why she’s blushing, and I hesitate, glancing around the small auditorium. Naturally, Reanna’s waiting to meet my eyes, and her eyebrow arches.

  Fuck it. I’ve fought with my brain the entire ninety minutes of class, and now I’m ready to be done. I quickly announce the writing assignment and turn to unplug my laptop from the overhead projector, collecting my things so I can head back to my office and take a long drink of cold water.

  Students file out, and the girl with the question slowly passes, batting her eyes at me. I want to laugh, but the truth hits me like cold water in the face. Other female students flirt, hell, some of the male students flirt, but I’m not tempted by any of them.

  Reanna triggers something more urgent in me. Her touch activates a need I can’t deny—even though I must.

  “Did you have a nice weekend?” My back is turned, but her low voice sets off electricity in my skin.

  She places a small item on the desk. A card is attached, and when I pick it up, I see it’s a green Jolly Rancher.

  “My favorite,” I say quietly, unsure if this is a coincidence.

  Lifting the card, she’s written in perfect penmanship, I trust you.

  My eyes meet hers. It’s a reference to what I said Thursday night. I’m in a position of trust… “Are you mocking me?”

  “I mean it with all my heart.”

  Her blue eyes are so round, her lips so full, her hair so silky, that cleft in her chin… her beauty makes my chest hurt. I want to touch her so badly, and it’s so wrong.

  Students filter past us, heading for the door, and I snap out of it. Our sexual tension is blatantly obvious, and it has to stop.

  Reaching out, I touch her arm. “Wait.”

  She doesn’t move, and finally, the last student leaves. The door closes with a loud click, and I scan the room to be sure we’re completely alone. Sharon wasn’t here today, and the next classes are starting soon. I have to make this fast.

  Meeting her gaze, my tone is fiercely low. “You’ve got to stop this.”

  She slides her hand over mine, looking up at me with wide eyes. “But your voice was so hoarse when you came in my mouth. I was worried about you.”

  My dick hardens, and I growl. “You can’t give me gifts in class. People will notice.”

  Lifting her chin, she steps closer. “I’d like to give you more.”

  My skin tingles, and I want to grab her face the way I did in the alley. I want to kiss her hard and fuck her harder. I want to spank her until her ass is red and painful. She’s a fiery pool of temptation, and I want to dive in and burn to death.

  Through clenched teeth, I try to stop it. “No gifts. No touching. No more.”

  “Last one…” She nudges my hand, and I look down to watch her slide a scrap of red lace into my palm. It’s her micro-thong, and I freeze as it enters my fist. “I’m sorry it’s damp. I couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth on my pussy in class.”

  She walks to the door, leaving me alone, and I lift the scrap of lace to my nose, inhaling jasmine, deep woods, and the unmistakable scent that drives me wild. Fuck.

  Shoving her thong in my pocket, I snatch up my bag, holding it over my erection as I quickly make my way back to my office, to the small bathroom.

  12

  Reanna

  “The difference between forensic psychology and clinical psychology is best understood if taken in terms of setting…” Professor Winston’s glasses are firmly in place, his voice low and controlled.

  We’re back here again, and my vision has tunneled.

  I pretend to go to Spanish. I pretend to go to English. I pretend to do my assignments, study for quizzes, fret over reports due by the end of the week, but none of it matters. Nothing I do here matters except this man.

  Ali says it’s time to eat, and I follow her to the dining hall where food is placed in front of me. I go through the motions of feeding myself, of washing my body and my hair, of putting myself to sleep, but my mind never stops.

  The nightmares have stopped—because of him.

  I don’t wake up in the middle of my bed searching the empty sheets for everything I’ve lost anymore. I don’t wake up screaming because everything I love has been ripped from me and I’m alone and afraid.

  I’m not alone anymore, and I’m definitely not afraid.

  He’s the first thing that has ever been almost mine, and all I can think about is getting what I want. All I can think about is him.

  Natasha is bearing down hard, but I don’t care about her either. I’m the lioness stalking her prey, the cat waiting for the mouse. I’m perfectly still, laser-focused, watching for the moment his weakness is exposed, and it’s happened.

  I’m his weakness. He tries to pretend it’s not true. He tries to hide it, but his efforts only whet my appetite for him. They only tease my muscles tighter.

  We’ve reached the part where I pounce.

  “Clinical psychologists want to build a trusting, empathetic alliance with their clients, but forensic psychologists cannot ethically nurture or act in a helping role.” Dirk is in the front of the class, sliding his finger down bullet points on the screen.

  Shifting in my seat, I wish his finger was sliding down my bullet point. A laugh sniffs in my nose, and I cover my lips with my hand. His eyes flicker to mine, and it’s a flash of heat in my chest. It almost feels like he knows what I’m about to do.

  I’m in the middle row, directly in his line of vision, vibrating like a sinner in church. My heart beats so fast, and my mouth is dry. If what I’m planning for the end of class doesn’t work, nothing will.

  I’m betting all my money it will.

  He switches off the computer and goes to the door to turn on the lights in the room. The sudden wash of fluorescent white makes everyone blink hard. A few groans break out around me, and a student across the aisle rubs his eyes like he’s waking from a nap.

  Evan isn’t in class, which is a stroke of luck for me. I lift the desktop in front of me and slide it into the arm of my chair.

  I’m not sure my heart can beat any harder as I wait for it…

  Wait for him to finish giving us the assignment…

  Wait for him to place the bag on his desk…

  Wait for him to glance in my direction again, and I make my move.

  Lifting my leg, I uncross, widen my knees to give him a clear view of my bare pussy, and watch as the heat explodes in his hazel eyes, as light pink lust creeps from beneath his collar, as his Adam’s apple bobs, and the muscle in his jaw clenches. I cross my legs again, and when his eyes lift to mine, they’ve gone dark.

  Students stand and funnel down the aisles, but I wait, sitting in my chair in the shortest skirt I own with nothing underneath it. Once the last person is at the door, I stand, lifting my bag onto my shoulder and walking down the steps slowly.

  He doesn’t look up. His eyes are fixed on the items he’s shoving roughly into his backpack, and I continue to the exit, going into the hall and walking the short distance to his office. Clusters of students filter past, laughing and making plans for the weekend.

  When I reach his door, I turn my back to it, slipping my hand behind me to turn the knob. It’s unlocked, and I go inside when no one is watching. The room is empty and the lights are off. Only the dim light from the hall filters through the frosted glass. I go into the smaller, private room in the back of his office, placing my bag on the floor by the filing cabinet.

  The sound of his door opening is as loud as a clap of thunder in the quiet space. He doesn’t turn on the light, and I know he knows I’m here waiting. I hear the click of the lock, and adrenaline floods my veins.

  Without a sound, he enters the smaller office where I wait, and he closes the second door, turning to face me.

  “I asked you to stop.” The anger in his voice clenches my core.

  “I can’t.” My breath catches, breaking my voice. “I want you too much.”

  Crossing the space, he grips my arm so fast, a yelp jumps from my throat. “What’s it going to take for you to stop?”

  We’re so close, I step forward so our bodies are touching. I rise on my toes, sliding my fingers in the side of his thick, wavy hair.

  My lips brush his ear as I whisper. “I think you’ll have to fuck me.”

  The room tilts, and he spins me around so I’m facing the mahogany desk of my dreams. My hips hit the dark wood, and his hands move quickly behind me, unfastening his pants.

  “Oh, God,” I whimper.

  A tear of foil, the snap of a condom, and wetness floods between my thighs, my stomach twists in anticipation.

  “Hold onto the desk.” It’s a low order, and I do as he says, sliding his things out of the way and lying on my stomach before him, lifting my bare ass for him.

  Cool air drifts across my flesh, and goosebumps break out on my skin. His hand grips my hip so suddenly, I let out another little cry of surprise, but it changes instantly to a low moan of satisfaction when he thrusts his cock inside so fast I rise off the desk.

  He’s so big, I gasp audibly.

  “Fuck…” His groan is loud, and my pussy tightens at the thought someone might hear us in the hall. “It’s so good.”

  Lying on my stomach, I arch my back up rocking him deeper into my slippery core. “No… I’m bad. You have to punish me.”

  “You are. And I will.” It’s a low growl, and his fingers thread in my hair, holding my cheek against the pad on his desk. “Don’t let go.”

  The warning in his tone squeezes my stomach, and I grip the wood, closing my eyes as he starts to move.

  After the first thrust, his groans turn ragged, and he picks up speed, fucking me like he’s lost control. My feet rise onto my toes with every punishing thrust, and high moans jerk from my throat as he hits me harder, over and over, scooting the desk and blanking my mind. He’s got the biggest cock I’ve ever had, and he’s using me in the most delicious way.

  “Is this what you want?” It’s practically a growl. “You want me to fuck you this way?”

  “Yes,” I moan, lifting my ass so he can drive deeper. “More…”

  His hand on my hip grips and pulls me to him as he complies, releasing all the anger, need, and frustration we’ve battled for so many weeks.

  “You like my dick in your pussy?”

  “Yes…” I’m practically sobbing. “I love it.”

  His hand goes around to my front, cupping between my thighs as he locates my clit. Rough fingers press and circle that hypersensitive spot, and my eyes squeeze as pleasure radiates in my inner thighs. I’m moaning and gasping, rising higher…

  “Come,” he orders.

  “Oh, God…” I’m going blind as he massages my clit, his unrelenting cock driving deeper. Wetness spills onto my thighs.

  “I said come.” His voice is stern, and I cry out, shooting to the top so fast, I’m afraid I might die when I hit it.

  Orgasm radiates in my stomach so hot, it burns in my veins. I stiffen, another hard thrust, and I break into shuddering wails. My muscles contract wildly, shaking and buckling my legs, my toes on pointe.

  The impact is almost overpowering, then he slaps my clit sharply, repeatedly, and I scream. He continues slapping harder, and I hear the smack of wetness. Did I just…?

  “Fuck,” he groans as he comes, his cock pulsing inside me. “Fuck, Reanna.”

  His pelvis presses against my backside, and his stomach trembles against my ass. His voice shudders as he holds deep inside my clenching core.

  His groans are as thrilling as the rules we’ve just shattered. We’re both leaning forward on the desk breathing heavily, and his chest is against my back, one large hand cupping my pussy possessively, the other threaded in my hair.

  The pressure of his weight holding me down is amazing. I’m surrounded by his heat, the scent of citrus and jasmine, sweat and sex. We’re slowly coming into focus, and I’m pretty sure I just had the best fuck of my life.

  With a low groan, he releases my hair, placing his hand on the desk and pushing his body off me. I don’t move. I don’t open my eyes, listening as he enters the small bathroom, disposes of the condom, and turns on the sink.

  I miss him already. I want him to come back and hold me. He does come back, but he doesn’t hold me. He touches me gently with the damp towel, cleaning my legs before lowering my skirt and taking my arm.

  “Stand up.” His voice is gentler now, although still quiet.

  I’m wobbly like a new foal, and I lean my face against his firm chest, sliding my hand up to his neck. “I think you made me squirt.”

  Air rushes from his lips, and he threads his fingers in the side of my hair, wrapping his other arm around my body at last. It feels so good to be in his arms. He truly is my safe place. I actually do trust him.

  A bitter thought cramps my stomach. What does it mean if he can’t trust me?

  Stop. I shove that unwelcome thought aside, remembering what I need to do. Stepping carefully out of his arms, I go to his bag and dig around, searching.

  “What are you doing?” His sexy voice tickles my stomach, and I switch on the small lamp on his desk.

  “Getting this.” I hold his phone up to his face, a clench in my chest at the sight of his hazel eyes. Everything about him is different to me now. “Look.”

  The phone unlocks, and I quickly open his Messages app, entering my number and sending a text to myself.

  He takes the device from my hand, studying the screen a moment. “This is your number?”

  “You were gone this weekend, and I didn’t know where you were.”

  Placing it on his desk, he straightens, sliding his hand around the back of his neck as he walks away from me to the filing cabinet where my bag is on the floor. Silence falls over the office, and I study his sexy back, his broad shoulders, his strong hands in his hair.

  Heat warms my belly, and I wonder how fast I can make him hard again. Now that I’ve had a taste, I’m so hungry for more.

  “We can’t be together, Reanna.” He speaks the words slowly, in a low voice, like he’s reading a verdict.

  I’m not sure I’m breathing. The words are a sucker punch. “But… How can you say that after—”

  “What happened just now?” Turning to face me, his brow furrows. “I’m your professor. I could get fired, you could be put on probation or worse.”

  “I don’t care about that.” I take a step closer, but he puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me.

  “You don’t know how something like this could affect your life, your future.”

  Anger flashes in my throat, and I want to scream.

  Instead I take a beat.

  I’m a soldier, a master of controlling my feelings. Even if he did just fuck my brains out, I’m a professional. I have to play it cool.

  “How might it affect my life, professor?” Curiosity is in my voice, and perhaps a touch of sarcasm.

  His eyes narrow, and I’m glad to know both our tempers are still intact. If he weren’t angry, he wouldn’t care.

  “In a few months, you’ll graduate and move on with your life. You should spend this time getting to know your peers.”

  Not so long ago, I found his restraint sexy. Now I’m pissed, but I hold onto my calm. “Are you saying you want me to date someone my own age?”

  His jaw tightens, but he looks away, trying to cover. “I think that’s probably for the best.”

  And in that simple response, the tension in his jaw, the way he forces the words, my fury melts into satisfaction. Pushing off the desk, I have a new idea as I pick up my bag, slipping it over my shoulder.

  “Thank you, professor. This was a very inspirational visit.” I stride out of the smaller office into the main one and unlock the outer door.

  I don’t even stop when I hear him say my name. He wants to pretend this didn’t mean anything, but I felt his desire. It’s ravenous and possessive.

  Perhaps I’ve grown a little obsessed with him, but the soreness in my core, the ache when I walk from how he fucked me like a beast, tells me he’s equally obsessed.

  The game continues, Professor Winston.

  13

  Dirk

  I made a mistake. I made a big, terrible mistake.

  A phantom image of her bent over the desk in front of me drifts through my mind, and my dick hardens. Fuck, I screwed up bad… but I tried to make it right.

  Standing over the sink in my kitchen, I brace the sides of the counter with my hands as I try to decide what to do. I came here wanting to be a part of something better. I thought sharing my knowledge, shaping young minds would be a way of giving back. I thought teaching would be a meaningful profession.

  Then I found her.

  Then the earth moved.

  Reaching up, I scrub my hand across my eyes. I can’t get the vision of what we did out of my head. Her long hair spread around her on my desktop, her eyes closed as she wrapped her fingers around the edges of the wood. Her narrow waist, her heart-shaped ass, uncovered and lifted to me.

  I can still hear her pleas for more. Punish me… The noises she made, the little gasps and moans every time I pounded into her, fucking her relentlessly, violently, slapping her pussy until she lost control.

  I did punish her, and it was hot as fuck.