Chapter 5

5

Alana

Islide the flash unit out of my Nikon and place it carefully in my camera bag, adjusting my aperture so I can try to shoot without it. There is a squirrel eating a student’s lunch in the quad and I’m going to tell him. Eventually. But first I have to get the shot.

My eyes are gritty from crying myself to sleep last night, but I rub them with the back of my wrist and line up the shot through my viewfinder. The squirrel is just about to hit the bricks with one of the napping student’s Cheetos and—

Damn. Missed it again.

Mentally, I nickname that squirrel Speedy.

Wrinkling my nose, I start to fiddle with my camera settings, hoping I can figure out the right mode in time to catch the thief in the act. I don’t have sociology class for another hour and I should be getting something to eat or catching a nap, but I have to distract myself from the fissure that seems to have formed in my heart. It would probably help to talk to Ripley, but I meant my promise to Gavin. I’m going to keep his secret.

Knowing my best friend, if she found out a man broke my stupid, naïve heart, she would wait outside his classroom with a switchblade and carve him up like a turkey.

That bitch is crazy.

I’m kind of avoiding her, because she’ll take one look at me and know I did something dumb. I went and fell for a member of the opposite sex and trusted him not to hurt me. It’s a tale as old as time, isn’t it? There’s nothing special about my personal heartbreak, except I’m the one who has to try and breathe around the broken glass in my throat.

I realize I’ve been staring into nothing for long moments and shake myself, going back to working with my camera settings. What did I think was going to happen when Gavin walked into that classroom? That he would say “damn the rules” and carry me off into the sunset? That’s not how life works. People have responsibilities and jobs and priorities. It’s ridiculous to be this depressed that I wasn’t Gavin’s top one.

And yet.

There’s this…bond that formed the night in the brothel. When I called him that name, when he asked me to call him by it, there was a transference of trust. He took responsibility of my fears and happiness and that title spoken in the heat of the moment…it seemed to imply that his protectiveness would extend everywhere. Never let anything bad touch me.

Especially bad that came from him.

It was an effective illusion, I’ll say that much.

Maybe it’s a good thing I got my first shock of pain out of the way on day one of freshman year. It can only go uphill from here, right?

The bench creaks beneath me, letting me know someone has taken a seat on the other side, but I keep my head down, not feeling much like meeting anyone new.

“Set your command dial to M before you adjust the shutter speed,” comes Gavin’s deep voice beside me. “You should catch him that way.”

Awareness is like a hand around my neck, fingers biting into me from all sides and preventing me from swallowing. “Thanks.” Still refusing to look at him, lest my heart actually leap out of my mouth and complete its death throes in his lap, I follow his instructions. I click the command dial to M and roll the shutter speed to the desired number, raising the camera and waiting, waiting for the right moment before snapping.

There on the display screen is a shot of Speedy mid-leap after hijacking a Chewy granola bar. “Got it,” I breathe, the flush of satisfaction warming me enough so that I can at least breathe again. “Thanks.”

Several beats pass. “You won’t even look at me.”

The anguish in his tone brings my head up, my eyes zeroing in on his face to see he looks just as exhausted as I do. Worse, even. His face was clean shaven yesterday for the first day of class, but it’s covered in scruff now. I shouldn’t be wondering what those coarse whiskers would feel like rasping on my breasts, but my lady parts are apparently behind the wheel here. “How did the vote go?”

“It went how I’d hoped it would,” he says, offering nothing more.

Meaning he was voted in. Meaning the fact that he can’t be with me goes double now. I hate myself for the weight of disappointment in my belly. It’s selfish and immature. “Congratulations,” I manage. “I’m sure you worked very hard for it.”

He doesn’t respond to that, continuing to watch me in that intense way of his. The way I once mistook for obsession. But it can’t be or he wouldn’t have let me go. He wouldn’t have been able to. And anyway, do I want him to be obsessed with me?

No way.

It would be super annoying to have this sexy professor who kisses like a God and loves photography chasing me around. No thank you.

Real convincing, Alana.

“You’re living off campus.” Not a question. A statement of fact. “Is that right?”

“Yes. With my best friend Ripley.”

A line forms between his brows. “Do you need help paying rent, Alana?”

“No,” I say firmly, surprised he would ask. If Ripley’s father wasn’t footing the whole bill and I was required to pay rent, would Gavin actually give me the money? I should be outraged by the very suggestion. But instead I feel cared for. Like he wants to make sure I’m safe.

He’s just being nice. Stop reading into it.

With purpose, I straighten my shoulders and command myself to be friendly. It’s nobody’s fault that fate decided to be a jerk. He didn’t know he was going to be my professor. Expecting him to give up his dreams for me is ludicrous. Furthermore, I’m a photography major and he runs the department, so I’m going to be seeing a lot more of him. Best to set a friendly tone now. Grin and bear it, like a big girl. “Rip’s dad is a really strict judge back home. He sentences criminals to death row like he’s popping vitamins. So we’re in a gated community with tight security.”

“Good.”

“Yeah?” I shoot him a skeptical nose twitch. “I don’t know. I was kind of hoping for the whole college dorm experience. We’re skipping the irresponsible part and veering right into adulthood. Soon I’ll be carrying around a briefcase like you.”

That surprises a deep, rich roll of laughter out of him that makes my toes curl in my sandals. “A briefcase is what makes someone an adult?”

“It’s one of them.” I pretend to fuss with my camera, but in actuality, looking at his beautiful face outlined by the sun is making me want to snap a picture and I think that would step past the boundary I’m trying to set here. “Other things that makes someone an adult are credit cards that earn airline miles and an open container of baking soda in their fridge. I bet you have both.”

“Shit. You got me.” His amusement is making him look less tired, and I love that I have something to do with it. If things were different, causing this man to laugh would be my favorite part of every day. I hold his smile for a perfect moment, but as we keep eye contact, the air changes. His energy changes. Heat filters into his eyes. Thick, unruly heat.

Gavin looks like he’s about to say something else when my name is called from the steps of the nearest building. It’s two of the male students I met earlier this week. Backpacks slung over their shoulders, they’re descending the stairs into the quad. One of them waves at me, the other one—Landen, I think—looks…kind of annoyed to see me sitting with our professor. What’s up with that?

“Hey,” I call, shooting them both a quick wave.

“Party tonight at our place,” Landen calls, and I don’t remember his voice being that deep. Is he trying to make it sound lower? He holds up his phone. “Everyone is going to be there. I’ll text you the details.”

Gavin growls, for my ears alone, and a prickle of unease ghosts over my skin.

I smile tightly at the guys, hoping they’ll take the hint and leave. “Sure, thanks.”

Though Landen looks reluctant, his friend pulls him along toward the east side of the campus, leaving me and Gavin in a heavy silence. For some reason, I find myself looking down and studying my knees, as if waiting to be chastised. It requires no thought. I simply do it on autopilot. As the tense silence stretches between us, shame and excitement form a foreign mixture in my belly, warming and spreading to my thighs.

“You gave those boys your phone number?” Gavin says softly, dangerously.

“No,” I whisper. “I only gave it to one girl. She must have passed it around.”

“Are you telling me the truth, Alana?”

My knees begin to tremble, but it’s not with fear, it’s with anticipation. My Daddy is jealous. He covets me still, even if we can’t be together, and that’s something I can’t help but cling to. “Yes. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Gavin hums low in his throat. “Will you go to this party?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I lick my lips. “The girls are nice. I like them.”

“I’m not worried about the girls.” He snaps the sentence at me and I can feel his composure evaporating. When he sat down, I don’t think he intended anything but a friendly conversation, but now everything seems to have changed. He’s been thrown a curveball. “Those boys want to fuck my princess.”

My princess.

I feel those two words in my clit, beating like a heartbeat, and I bite off a moan.

He’s not finished, either. It’s a mistake to turn my head and meet his eyes, because they’re clouded with lust and jealousy. And intent. There’s something exciting about being in the open like this, while he looks at me like I’m his prey. My body is thrilled to be the center of his attention and it responds by priming, preparing for sensual punishment.

“If one of them so much as lays a goddamn finger on you, Alana, they won’t live to see graduation. Are we clear on that?”

His possessiveness is like a drug roaring down my bloodstream. Later, I’ll worry about what it means that he makes this order. What it means that I obey. Later I’ll wonder if he wants to keep me as his secret lover and never tell a soul. I’ll wonder why that makes me want to cry enough tears to fill an ocean. Later. Right now, I can only obey my instincts. “Yes. We are clear.”

My agreement does nothing to soften him, though there is a flex of muscle in his cheek. “Tell me, Alana. If frequent flyer miles and a briefcase are what make someone an adult…what makes someone a little girl?”

A cloud passes in front of the sun, but my shiver has nothing to do with the sudden cold. Desire spreads on the seam of my panties and I scoot my thighs together to hide it, but his eyes follow the movement sharply. “Gavin,” I whisper, trembling. “We shouldn’t…everyone c-can see us.”

“Answer me, Alana.” His voice is low, hypnotic. It resonates in my tummy and lower. Everywhere. “What makes you a little girl?”

It’s getting hard to breathe. I look around, expecting everyone in the quad to be watching me turn into a ball of fire on this bench, but life rolls on as usual. “I don’t know.”

“Is it me that makes you one?” He lays an arm along the back of the bench, wrapping a curl at the nape of my neck around his finger. “Is it the way I held you down and crammed myself into your tight girlish cunt…and the excitement of pleasing Daddy eclipsed the discomfort so thoroughly you barely even felt the pain?”

I feel as if I’ve liquefied into hot metal and become one with the hard slats. If I move I’m going to shatter, I know it. I know it. My clit is throbbing and aching between my legs, as if it knows the one who learned its secrets is nearby and it wants more.

“Is it your eagerness to please? Don’t think I didn’t notice you sat in the front row of my class. So diligent taking notes, weren’t you? Such a good teacher’s pet.” He shifts on the bench and lets me see the thick ridge of his erection, hidden just inside his suit jacket. “And all the while your thighs and tits had me so hard, I nearly jerked myself off behind the podium.”

With a sucked in breath, I cross my legs, but the ache he’s creating between them is ruthless. Nothing is going to help.

“Squeeze your thighs together, Alana,” Gavin bites out, subtly massaging his arousal with the heel of his hand. “You’ve made me jealous. Now you’re going to come right here on this fucking bench. Right here in front of everyone.”

My grip flies to the edge of the seat, my desire-dampened thighs sawing together. I drop my head forward so none of the milling students can see my eyes close, the sweat forming on my top lip, or the blood I draw with my teeth on the bottom one. “Daddy,” I whisper.

He leans in, speaking a few inches from my ear. “I know what makes you a little girl. That wet, horny pussy of yours. It knows it only belongs to one man. It waits so innocently for him to pound it like sweet fuckmeat, doesn’t it?”

The spasms course through me so suddenly, I almost scream, but manage to clamp my lips shut at the last minute. I rock on the bench, up and back, mentally begging for the climax to be over, begging for it to continue forever. I’m a mess of trembles and red skin and white knuckles, orgasming on the bench, inches from my professor, my panties a sodden disaster by the time the clenching subsides. I fall back on the bench, gasping for air, my limbs liquefied.

Gavin stands, coming to a stop in front of my and blocking out the sun.

There is a strain around his eyes and mouth, his jaw clenched, but he leisurely buttons his suit jacket so that it covers his extensive erection. “Be a good girl, Alana. I’ll be watching.”

Dazed, I nod.

I’m not sure how long I sit there trying to absorb what just happened. Am I in a clandestine relationship with my professor now? Or was he just acting out of jealousy and still doesn’t want anything permanent with me? Either possibility weighs my heart down even more heavily than it was this morning.

My phone rings. Ripley.

“Hey, girl,” I answer, my voice hoarse from trapping that scream.

“Uh, hey yourself. You sound like a cam girl.”

“Cool. I don’t even have to wear pants for that job.” Not wanting her to delve too deep into why my voice sounds funny, I change the subject. “I got invited to a party tonight.”

“Oh!” Silence.

“Oh?”

“I can’t go. I have kind of a…date. Thing.”

“With who?”

She hedges. “No one special. But you shouldn’t go to a party by yourself.”

I want to push and find out who she’s going out with, but she let me slide with the raspy voice situation, so I have to reciprocate. “I won’t be by myself. I’ll know people there.”

“You sure?”

“Totally.” An alarm beeps on my phone. “Crap. I have to run to sociology. Can I borrow your black dress for tonight? The short one with the crisscross neckline?”

“Sure thing, babe. Byeee.”

“Bye.”

I hang up and start a jog across campus, my legs still unsteady from my quad-gasm. But I feel more in control after deciding to attend the party. I’m not just going to sit around in confusion waiting for Gavin to tell me if there’s something between us. I would rather be with him than at some party, of course, but at least I’ll be distracted from the ache in my heart.

Except the party is nothing like I expect.