by Cate Corvin
A head full of bright blue hair dove into the fray in front of me. All I could see of the woman was her hair, a beacon of vivid cerulean, and ears lined with silver hoops. She was the only student I’d seen so far who didn’t fit the polished, clean-cut mold.
I followed that beacon all the way to my first class of the day, Information Sources and Services. She flopped into a desk in the back next to a guy with sandy hair, whose eyes landed on me and lit up.
I quietly took a seat at the front and pulled out my planner, going over for my agenda for the day as others filtered in. Soon most of the seats were filled, and delicate chimes filled the school to announce the first hour.
The blue-haired girl slipped down next to me as the professor, an older woman with judiciously injected Botox treatments and blonde highlights, strolled in. “Come with me,” she whispered. A silver barbell flashed in her tongue as she spoke.
I glanced over my shoulder. The sandy-haired guy raised a hand, jerked his head.
I quietly gathered my things, followed Baby Blue to the back, and took the seat next to her.
“Rachelle Reid,” she whispered, extending a hand, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek. Reid Industries was one of the largest textile manufacturing companies on the east coast. “And Sean Armstrong.”
Sean looked at me sideways, like he’d burst into fire if he looked me fully in the eye. “Jane Fawkes,” I whispered back.
Then the professor started speaking, going over the syllabus, and I cracked my planner open again. Rachelle was twirling her hair into a pile on her head and securing it with ballpoint pens, not paying attention to a word.
She pounced on me at the end of class, looping her arm through mine like we were old friends. “You must be the SCS winner,” she said. “We’re going to be besties, I just know it. Sean was the SCS winner four years ago. He got in as a freshman, lucky kid.”
Sean fell in on my other side, boxing me in between the two of them. He was tall but compact like a born athlete. “This is your final year?” he asked.
A flutter of hope took wing in my chest. Maybe I wouldn’t be as lonely as I’d thought. “Yes. I’m finishing my library science degree.”
“Good. You can take over from Clarke,” Rachelle muttered. “She refused to check out the Kama Sutra to me last year. I can’t imagine why, it wasn’t like I was going to do anything unseemly with it.”
She put unseemly in air quotes, and there was a tinge of bitterness to her tone under the brightness.
“So, where are you from, Jane? You’re going to eat lunch with us. They’re serving prime rib today, it’s the best you can get around here. You’re not a vegetarian, right? Please don’t be a vegetarian. It’d make me very sad.”
I answered as many of Rachelle’s frenetic questions as I could, but as soon as one word was out of my mouth, she was already asking another one. No, I wasn’t a vegetarian. Yes, I liked the outdoors. I was from Bentley, Pennsylvania, and I was more of a cat person than a dog person.
I got a break from Rachelle’s endless questions for my next two classes, and was immediately accosted by the blue beacon right after Classification of Materials class.
“I’ve got one!” she said in a gleeful whisper, pulling me through the Hall of Arts. I couldn’t help but look for Professor Spears, half-afraid I’d see his cold blue eyes focused on me. “What’s your deepest, darkest desire? I’ve always wanted to wrestle nude in Jell-O, but Mom says it’d be bad PR.”
For some reason, I wanted to say something that might shock Rachelle into temporary silence, much as I liked her. “I’ve always wanted the thrill of being naked in front of a bunch of people. I once thought about being a stripper to pay the bills, but it turns out I’m a really shitty dancer.”
Rachelle stopped in her tracks, halting me with her. She looked up at me with sparkling brown eyes ringed with enough kohl to send a raccoon into a paroxysm of jealousy. “I knew I’d like you.”
Then something brushed my hip as Professor Spears walked past me. He’d been right behind us the entire time.
“Good afternoon, ladies.” I prayed he hadn’t overheard me, even as Rachelle waxed eloquent on a conspiracy theory that Bourdillon put human growth hormones designed to make their faculty hot in the food.
Sean waited for us in the cafeteria. It looked more like an extravagant dining room, the tables covered in fine white linen with silverware laid out. A crystal lamp dangled overhead, sending rainbow lights dancing off the walls.
The prime rib was, in fact, the best I’d ever had.
I had one more class for today before my shift at the library started: English 510.
“Ooh, I’m in that one, too!” Rachelle said happily. Sean gave me a downcast look, picking at his food.
“I’m off to the lab,” he said, his gaze skittering over my face. “See you later?”
I barely had time to say bye before Rachelle waved him off and dragged me to the next class. This was the one I was really looking forward to. I plunked into a seat up front, patting the seat next to me, which Rachelle sank into gracefully.
“Up front? You’re such a nerd,” she said fondly. “Seriously, I can’t tell you how great it is to have another girl who doesn’t think the sun shines out of her asshole here. I was starting to think Sean and I were the only sane ones.”
She didn’t bother to lower her voice for the sake of the other students around us. A girl with bright red curls rolled her eyes, but I was starting to get the impression that Rachelle was more of a beloved black sheep than a genuine outcast, the kind you fed a sugar cube to every once in a while but mostly left to its own devices.
The fluttering hope had become a full bloom. Professor Thayer was conspicuously absent, and I hadn’t thought of Rhett once all day.
Well, mostly. The previous night was a specter hanging over me, but it was easier now to take a deep breath and imagine it hadn’t happened at all.
The prof still hadn’t arrived. I surreptitiously checked the schedule I’d slid into the back of my planner; a Professor Harrison was supposed to teach this course.
The heavy wooden door swung open and I looked up, expecting to see my new prof.
Instead, Rhett strolled in, carrying an armful of books. He shut the door, dropped the books on the desk, and turned to look at us.
His gaze landed directly on me. My stomach had turned into a mess of writhing snakes in the last fifteen seconds.
“Good morning, everyone. There’s been a disruption in the schedule; I’ll be replacing Professor Harrison for the rest of the semester.” He sat on the edge of the desk, a stance that might’ve looked awkward on anyone else, but he made it look so easy and casual. “I’m Professor Harlow.”
My dreams come true had warped into a nightmare. I closed my planner, wishing I’d brought a bottle of water. My throat was so dry it’d squeak if I tried to talk, just like the mouse I was.
Rhett smiled at me like no one else existed, but of course that couldn’t be true, because none of the other students seemed to notice.
“We’ll skip the introduction and get right to the meat of this course.” Rhett strolled to the board, picked up a marker, and began to cover it with the half-cursive scrawl that hadn’t changed much since he was seventeen.
Instead of giving it the same laser-like focus the rest of my classes had warranted, I ducked my head forward, glad I’d left my hair down today. It fell forward and covered my burning cheeks and ears.
I was the kind of girl who made bad decisions sometimes, but I wasn’t stupid.
He’d said he’d see me again, and he’d made it happen. There was no accident here. Being a professor, he’d have full access to the student’s schedules and classes, and he taught English, of course. The perfect in to torment me.
Rhett didn’t look at me again, but my handwriting was shaky anyways as I took my notes. Nobody seemed to notice my discomfort, not even Rachelle, who was gazing at him dreamily the one time I looked up from behind the curtain of
my hair. Maybe I’d get away with this scot-free.
The other shoe dropped when class was over.
“Jane Fawkes, stay behind, if you please.” Rhett watched the other students filter out, like he didn’t notice me at all.
Rachelle winked at me jokingly and my heart dropped somewhere near my knees. The hope for a smooth year I’d felt earlier was cold and dead now.
When the room was empty, Rhett shut the door. “Enjoying your classes?”
I pulled my beat-up messenger bag over my shoulder, hoping he had a real reason for this. If anyone ever found out… “It’s been great so far. I love this place.”
That was the truth, at least. If I hadn’t screwed myself over already, I’d be as happy as a piglet in muck right now.
A breath later, Rhett’s hands were on the wall on each side of my head, caging me in.
“What did you dream about last night?” he breathed in my ear. Goosebumps rose over my neck and rolled downwards.
What I’d dreamed: Rhett pounding into me, his face flickering between Gabriel Spears cool, hard gaze and Thayer’s warmer, but crueler, one.
What I told him: “The usual, you know. Showing up to class and realizing I’d forgotten to get dressed.”
His tongue flicked my earlobe, the smell of mint gum mixing with his tobacco cologne, and everything in me responded to that scent on a visceral level. My body and its primitive drive had gotten the memo loud and clear: this was the guy it wanted to fuck, in every position and on every surface.
My brain was only half-logical: he was now my professor. But he smelled like pure sex. He was authority. But I knew what he felt like and I wanted more.
My voice broke before I could even begin speaking. “I dreamed of you,” I whispered.
It was like they were the magic words and he was just waiting for them. Rhett caught my mouth in a harsh kiss. My lower lip ground against my teeth, and he tilted his head to force my mouth open, tongue sliding over mine.
My hips ground against him when he pressed in, the full height of him covering me, and I was already picturing round two of forbidden activities when his cell rang.
Rhett released me, eyes boring a hole right through my skull for a long moment before he strode back to his desk and answered.
I remained against the wall, letting it hold me up. My legs were unreliable.
“Harlow,” he said, and paused. Blue eyes flicked my way. Fuck. “She’s here.”
Time to pull myself together.
My stomach did a slow roll as Rhett listened. He finally murmured an assent and hung up, sliding his cell in his pocket. “You’re to report to the Dean’s office before you head to the library,” he said. He looked me over, and there was something so primal and hungry in his gaze that I almost missed the importance of his words.
“Don’t worry,” he said when I paled. He pushed me back against the wall, kissing me softer this time. Being caught between lust and fear was a little like the world’s worst rollercoaster ride. “He has some ground rules to discuss with you. We take our role as mentors seriously, Jane.”
God help me and my bad fucking life choices, but I kissed him back. “Did anyone know you were there?”
Rhett’s lips moved over my cheek to my neck. “No.”
I breathed a little sigh of relief and he pulled his full weight off my body. “You’re free to go. Thayer is a punctual bastard.”
I swallowed my completely-unwarranted disappointment and offered Rhett a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” He wound a lock of blonde hair around his finger, smiling back at me.
That was the last image I carried in my mind as I found the small, dark corridor where the Dean of Students kept his office. I knocked on the door, and a gruff voice said, “Enter.”
Feeling a little like I was walking into the belly of the beast, I pushed the door open. Professor Thayer’s office was old-money, the furniture made of ebony wood, a red Oriental carpet spread across the floor, and first-edition books covered a massive bookshelf behind him. I’d kill a man with my bare hands to touch some of those books, but he’d never let me. Not after I’d destroyed a first edition with coffee.
He gestured to the empty seat across the broad desk. “Close the door behind you.”
I complied and stepped forward to take my seat, then saw what was spread across that desk. It didn’t gel with Rhett’s sunny smile, his reassurances, his promise that no one else saw us.
The desktop was covered with a slew of glossy photographs, and I was intimately familiar with both of the subjects depicted, even though only one face was clearly showing.
My face, heavy-lidded and open-mouthed, as Rhett plowed into me on the table. My head lolling over the back of the chair while he knelt between my legs, my hand tangled in his hair.
Coldness seeped through my limbs. He was so carefully positioned in the photographs, it would be easy to argue that any dark-haired, broad-shouldered man was the one, but there was only one me.
A single word echoed through my mind as Professor Thayer raised an eyebrow, juxtaposed against Rhett smiling down at me, telling me no one saw.
Liar.
Chapter Five
“Damning, aren’t they?”
I couldn’t breathe, my lungs frozen and shriveled behind my ribs. It was all over. Less than a day, and I’d fucked up my only chance at the life I wanted.
At least I could go out with whatever shreds of dignity I had left. I wasn’t going to be the idiot that protested no, it’s not me! when it was clearly me shoving Rhett’s head between my legs.
Perversely, my skin warmed just from the sight of the photos.
“Very,” I said, my voice coming out in a rasp. I didn’t seem to be able to speak higher than a squeak. That was me as usual. Mouse.
Caught in the mousetrap this time.
Professor Thayer just looked at me. I’d never stripped naked in front of him, but he’d still seen all I was made of. Like Rhett’s hunger, there was something dark and savage under his skin, a beast that’d caught the scent of weak prey and was waiting to run it down.
“There are clauses to your scholarship, Miss Fawkes.” He tapped a stack of papers I hadn’t seen, not with my eyes glued to the photos. “Stipulations written out in very clear language in the contract.”
I sank into the chair, my knees watery and boneless. He pushed the contract towards me. “Read it.”
I’d already read it. I knew the exact paragraph he was talking about, and the words jumped off the page at me.
Code of morality.
Unseemly conduct.
Inappropriate relations.
Impropriety reflecting a poor image on the values of Bourdillon University.
I silently placed the contract back on his desk.
“Impropriety,” he said softly, his eyes never moving from my face. “Unseemly conduct. If I’d known how unseemly you could be, Miss Fawkes, I might’ve had you pay me back yesterday.” A hot blush rose to my cheeks as he spoke. “On your knees.”
A hint of anger rose under the shame. “You can’t speak to me like that,” I retorted, but it came out weak, barely a whisper. Another ineffectual squeak. Grow a fucking spine, Plain Jane.
“I can speak to you however I damn well please.” And he could. Fuck it all, but he could, because mine was the only visible face in those photos, and I couldn’t afford the defense lawyer Rhett could, and even if I could… how much of a hell would they make my life?
“Is this it, then? Are you kicking me out?”
The question hung between us like a dark cloud. Thayer rubbed his lower lip with one scarred knuckle, his gaze on my mouth now.
My mouth was still swollen and red from kissing Rhett.
“That’s entirely up to you.” He picked up a photo from the pile, examining it intently. I cringed when he flipped it to face me. My back was arched off the table, fingers curled over the edge of the table. “You have two choices, Miss Fawkes. One: Your scho
larship contract is null and void. You go home. You don’t come back.”
He didn’t need to give me further details. It would be The End. No finishing college, just a lifetime of waiting tables ahead of me, always several steps behind the hospital payments.
I had a terrible feeling I knew what option two was, but I wanted to see his full lips form the words. Maybe it was a little bit of a masochistic streak I had, but I wanted the words out between us, ready to punch right through my chest.
He rubbed his salt-and-pepper beard with one large hand, dark gaze boring through me. “Option two. You remain under a strict code of silence. You never touch another man attending this university besides the ones we’ve given you permission to touch.”
We? A warm hand descended on my shoulder. I jerked, dropping my bag, and looked up at Professor Spears. He was as silent and cold as yesterday, but a dark fire had kindled in his eyes when he looked from the photographs to me. “Interesting way to choose to spend your first night here, Jane. Perhaps I should’ve taken you on as my assistant.”
He was no Superman now. His fingers tightened, holding me in my seat.
“You exist here at the beck and call of myself, Professor Spears, and Professor Harlow. When we want you, you come.” Thayer made the word sound filthy, as I was sure he intended to. “When we tell you to strip, you take off these rags without a word of complaint. When we tell you to drop, get on your knees. Every word from our mouths is a direct order, and your continued stay rests entirely on how well you’re willing to listen.”
My mouth had gone dry. “You’d let me stay?” I heard and processed his demands, filing them away for later while the most important detail was still at stake.
“You would stay, prove to us personally how hard you’re willing to work to overcome this obstacle, and graduate. These photographs will never see the light of day.”
I clutched the arms of the chair with white-knuckled fingers, my heart threatening to beat right through my chest. The strange urge to laugh hysterically almost overcame me.
Blackmail. This was sexual blackmail, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it if I wanted to achieve my dreams.