Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

T hroughout the rest of the day, I shelved mindlessly, my thoughts returning to the moment we'd shared in the stacks before we were interrupted. His words and touch over the last two days didn't seem real. It wasn't a possibility…whatever this was.

I was floating, my feet barely touched the ground. Dr. Wilder stimulated me, he challenged me, he set my body and mind ablaze. And here I was, breaking every rule students and instructors shouldn't. I was becoming what ethically good people would scorn and damn.

And I didn't feel anything but exhilaration.

No mind was paid to the dying sun outside the lattice windows. I shelved and organized and cleaned the messes of students long gone as Mrs. Cocoran did her closing routine. It wasn't terribly late, but it was quiet and dinner had to be soon.

I hadn't felt so productive in all my life—so needed and worth something important. Mrs. Cocoran exhaled happily, calling my name from the front desk as I pushed in one of the final chairs at the back of the library, turning off the last lamp .

"You've been such a wonderful librarian today, thank you for all your help."

"It's my pleasure," I replied, fingers trialing the smooth wood of the desks as I made my way to her. "I find a comfort amongst the books."

"Kindred spirits are we. I think we're all going to get along quite well." Her smile was audible. "Oh, I do hate keeping you so late, I'm afraid you might have missed dinner at this rate." Mrs. Cocoran checked her wristwatch, gray brows dipping.

"No need to fret." I offered her my most charming grin, making for the spiral staircase. "I'll grab my stuff from upstairs and order something for delivery."

"Hurry now, it's awful dark already!"

I chuckled, taking the stairs in no rush. What was it with Dr. Wilder and the late nights? He'd warned me twice now, and with Mrs. Cocoran's own comment it hung around me like some childish foreboding of the boogeyman.

Only…I had seen that figure in the cloak that night…

The image of billowing black over the grass had me hurrying now. There were whispers when Walt first applied here, hushed words between him and my father and their pompous group of friends…mumbles of hidden and powerful societies, ancient and ever present. I'd only ever caught glimpses, snippets of conversations that would have anyone mildly interested in the occult pressing their ear against the door for more.

Though I hadn't the slightest idea of what I hoped to uncover, I pulled my laptop open as my heart beat uneasily, fluttering inside its cage. The library website was already up, thankfully, allowing my fingers to dance over the keys in search of an article or book I hoped would exist on the subject.

"Oakwood University Secret Societies."

I chewed the skin of my lip as the page loaded–blank and white, leaving me disappointed .

"Goddammit," I muttered, revising my search once more.

It yielded a similar baron crop—nothing.

"I thought I told you not to stay out late," Dr. Wilder's silken voice carried from the top of the stairs. From the vantage point through the stacks, I could barely make out the wool blazer he wore.

"It isn't late," I said as I shoved my work into the messenger bag with trembling fingers.

He finally came into full view, one corner of his mouth tipped up though it didn't reach his eyes. "I say we will have to disagree, once more. It's dark."

"It's Autumn," I shot back playfully, hoisting the bag over my shoulder. "I'm not sure if you know, but due to the tilt of the earth, it gets darker earlier in Autumn. That doesn't necessarily mean it's late."

"Wear your coat, please," Professor Wilder instructed. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Yes, sir, Professor." I giggled. It annoyed me that I liked his overzealous care. No one in my life ever showed me such a level of consideration, not even Walt. What did they need to care about other than if I showed up, did as they said, and kept my mouth shut when they needed?

My arms slipped easily into the sleeves of the trench before I pulled my bag back up onto my shoulder. "Thank you for accosting me. I think I'll be on my way."

I made to breeze by him, but he caught my arm with a gentle tug.

"You're not walking by yourself, Vivian."

"Mrs. Cocoran can walk me, I'm sure she won't mind." I gave an overly enthusiastic smile up at him. He really was so tall.

"No, she's left. I'll be escorting you home." He gripped my chin between his fingers, giving a gentle shake before he went toward the stairs. "Come now. "

I followed, chest buzzing with curious prospect. Each time we were alone, the tension continued to build and it felt as though at some point we would explode.

What that explosion meant, I wasn't sure.

He led the way outside, locking the library behind us. I hated to admit that he had been right, of course. It was cold. A gust of wind sent my coat flying out from around my body and chilled my legs through the tights.

"I appreciate your…caution?" I said as we started toward Roosevelt House together. "But I think it's a bit overdone."

Dr. Wilder pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one between his lips. "I wish you'd take it more seriously," he grumbled.

"You're the only one I know who's worried about…anything, really. The students haven't been made aware of some ominous threat." I spun around up ahead so that I could see his expression as we walked. He took a long drag, thin wisps of smoke escaped from his mouth in a twisting cloud.

"You won't be." He blew a puff in my face with another one of those wolfish smirks I liked so much. I wanted to breathe in his smoke, to taste him on my tongue.

"Oh? And why is that?" I was genuinely intrigued now. If there was some sort of threat on campus, even if only rumored, shouldn't those most vulnerable be made aware?

Why was I the only one being given a warning? It didn't sit right that hundreds of other young women could be in danger.

"It's Oakwood, darling. It's the way things have been done for centuries."

My brows knitted together and I stopped walking beneath the burnished glow of a lamp. The walkway leading to the library was dotted with circular spaces of light, casting the rest of the campus in a black darker than night. No students roamed by us and an eerie quiet settled, save for the soft whooshing of leaves in the breeze—tumbling and cascading over the earth.

"You've my attention," I said. Fingertips tingling with cold, I shoved them deep into the pockets of my coat.

"I'm afraid I have nothing to divulge." Professor Wilder stopped in front of me, tossing his half smoked cigarette onto the brick and tamping it with the toe of his shoe.

"For some reason, I have a hard time believing that," I echoed my previous assertion.

"Such a clever girl," he laughed humorlessly.

Something rustled behind me, light footsteps over the discarded leaves, quick and unrestrained. I twisted, eyes searching the dark as I stepped backward into Professor Wilder's chest.

"What was that?" I hissed through clenched teeth.

"You're awfully jumpy." His large hands came to the tops of my arms.

"I swear I saw someone stalking us one night when we left the library late." I gazed up at him, watching his eyes pierce the darkness. God, that square jaw was set tight and the shadows from the lamp only accentuated his high cheekbones. "Mrs. Cocoran and I."

"Oh?" Wilder's attention came back to me, more iron than ever.

"Yes."

"And what did Mrs. Cocoran do?"

"She said kids sneak out all the time, but this person was wearing some kind of cloak. It didn't look like a student sneaking out to me."

Another rustle sounded, closer this time, and I clenched his hand.

"Do you see anything?" I whispered. My eyes scanned around us to little avail. The light of the walkway was entirely too bright for our circumstance.

"No…" Professor Wilder's palms slid down my arms, encouraging me to face him. "Vivian…"

I tried to crane my neck to find the source of the sound but Dr. Wilder tipped my chin toward him, his lids falling as he finally brought his mouth to mine.

I was struck, my heart ceased to beat.

Time stopped its tick onward. His mouth, so soft and yet firm at the same time, came over mine with a gentle caress. He tasted of cigarettes and coffee and his warm, wet tongue teased my lip with beckoning.

It took me all but a moment to realize that he was kissing me.

And I gave back, hungrily reaching my hands into his silky hair, crushing our bodies together at the same time I came to my tiptoes for better reach and every wanton need translated in the swish of my tongue against his.

I might have been a virgin, but oh, I loved to kiss.

Professor Wilder's hands found my cheeks and all I could think of in that moment was how badly I wanted them elsewhere—my waist, my breasts, my pussy. He could have all of me, take everything from me and I would thank him for it. But he only held me there to kiss endlessly, our panting breath clouding out around us.

Kissing him was like holding myself under water. Pressurizing, stifling, beautiful. I could stay there forever, watch the ripples of water dance as I drowned and feel no remorse for it whatsoever. Every rush of his breath, every nip of his teeth sent a pulsing wave to my clit.

His mouth slowed, pulling away as he sucked my bottom lip and rested his forehead on mine.

I swallowed the tightness in my throat. "Dr. Wilder, I?— "

"Please." His voice was hoarse and quiet. "Call me, Ambrose, Vivian."

"Ambrose." I tried it on my tongue, let it fall from my mouth like a prayer.

"Get home," he said, thumbs gliding over my cheeks. "Your next shift at the library will be Monday evening."

The heels of my shoes hit the brick as I came down from my high with a smack.

He was leaving me here.

Did he regret kissing me then? Were the immoral implications catching up to him?

I pulled his hands from my cheeks and nodded, scarcely able to form words.

"Goodnight." Ambrose pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and turned on his heel, heading back the way we came, his coat swelled around him as he strode.

"Dr. Wilder?" I called, pulling my own coat tighter around my frame in the absence of his heat.

He didn't face me, only turning his cheek in my direction.

"What about what we heard?"

His cheek rose in a grin. "You're safe, darling. I promise."

I drew in a tired, full breath for a moment. How could he be so sure?

But he continued walking, his shoulders bunched and head ducked from the cold wind.

And I did not move for some time.