18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Room and Board

The door to my dorm room swings open, the sudden draft making pages on the desk flutter. I jump, my heart leaping into my throat, as Professor William Stratford steps into the room. His presence fills the small space, making it seem tiny. It’s a little mouse hole. He’s the lion. I’m the mouse in this scenario.

His gaze lands on the packed suitcase on my bed, the open drawers, the emptied desk. His jaw clenches, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

His eyes, intense and stormy, lock on to mine. “What the hell are you doing?”

I straighten, steeling myself against the onslaught of emotions that always come at the sight of him. Frustration, sadness, longing—they all war within me, making it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to speak. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

He closes the door behind him. And locks it.

Ominous, that.

I wish I could pretend that I mind more than I actually do.

I wish I didn’t want one last kiss. It will have to last a lifetime.

“You can’t leave,” he says, his voice a command, a demand, a plea.

I bristle at his words, at the assumption that he can tell me what to do. “Watch me,” I say, though I can’t deny that it feels like foreplay. I turn back to packing, shoving a stack of clothes into my threadbare duffel bag with more force than necessary.

He crosses the room in two long strides, his fingers brushing my wrist, stopping me mid-motion. His touch is electric, sending a jolt of awareness through me, a reminder of the passion we shared, the love that lingers despite everything. “I fought for you,” he says, his voice low. “I fought for us . Now I’ve won, and you’re leaving?”

I wrench away from him, the sudden absence of his touch leaving me feeling bereft. “You won,” I say, my voice shaking with emotion. “What about me? I’m still fighting, and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of everything, period.”

“What does that mean?”

“The lies. The betrayals. The manipulations. I worked so hard to get here, but I can’t be just a college student. I can’t just have a panic attack over a final exam like every other college student. Instead I have to worry about a freaking coup.”

“You’re so strong. So brave. You shouldn’t have to be, but you are.”

I shake my head, dislodging his hand, breaking the connection between us. “I can’t stay here, not anymore. Not after everything that’s happened. And besides, the scholarship money is gone. There’s nothing left for me here.”

“Then I’ll pay your way.”

“Don’t.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t say it. Don’t think it. It’s not happening.”

He takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll pay for your education. You don’t have to leave Tanglewood. You can stay, you can study, you can graduate.”

I shake my head. “No.”

His eyes flash, a storm brewing in their depths. “Why the hell not?”

“Because I’m not going to take your money, that’s why. We’re sleeping together. We’re lovers. Or at least, we were lovers. So I can’t take your money.”

“Why was it okay for me to pay you when we were at the hotel, but not here?”

“Because it was different then,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “It was a temporary solution. And you were a stranger.”

“Bullshit. You needed help, and I provided it. Let me do that again.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within me. “It’s not the same. That was a onetime thing. This is my education. An entire semester of tuition at one of the most expensive schools, an entire semester of room and board at outrageous prices, especially considering the state of the meatloaf. I can’t accept that from you.”

He takes another step closer, his voice dropping to a low, intense murmur. “Why not? Do you think I would make you pay me back?”

“Partly,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper, though it wouldn’t be in money or interest. It wouldn’t even be in sexual favors. I would have to pay him with loyalty. With devotion. And I’ve seen how those things can wrap around my wrists tighter than the ropes in the cathedral. They almost trapped me in Port Lavaca. “I don’t want to owe you anything. I don’t want to be...beholden to you.”

He reaches out, his hand cupping my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “It would be a gift, with no strings attached.”

I shake my head, dislodging his hand, breaking the connection between us. “There are always strings,” I say, my voice thick with resignation. “Nothing in life is free. Everything has a cost, a price to pay. And I can’t... I won’t pay that price.”

He stares at me, his eyes searching, probing. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Nothing.”

“What are you running from?”

“Why are you chasing me?”

He reaches out, his hand cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t even realized had fallen. His touch is gentle, tender, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging in his eyes. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, his voice intent.

“It’s the only way I know how.”

His eyes darken, a storm brewing in their depths as he takes a step closer. “Fine,” he says, his voice a low growl. “Then get on the bed.”

Shock courses through me. “What are you doing?”

“If you want to get paid for sex, then I’ll pay you for sex.”

Anger surges within me, hot and fierce, at his words, at his presumption. “How dare you,” I say, my voice shaking with emotion. Or arousal. Maybe both.

“Lie down. Spread your legs. Prepare to get worked over, because if I’m going to pay for a semester of tuition at an expensive college, along with room and board—” He glances around the small room, clearly unimpressed. When he sees the yellow stain shaped like a tree, he shakes his head. “Then you’re going to have to earn it.”

His hands grip my shoulders, and he gently, gently, gently pushes me back onto the bed. I can stop him. I’m almost sure that I could, but I don’t get to find out.

Because I let him tip me over.

My gasp is real, not out of shock or even true anger.

It’s the arousal that pulses through me at the show of control.

He looks down on me, like a god surveying a sacrifice. “If you’re so insistent on paying your own way, on not accepting my help, then fine. I’ll pay you for the one thing I know you can give me. The one thing I know we both want.”

I struggle beneath him, trying to push him away, but he’s too strong, too solid. And I don’t really want to win. “Get off me.”

He ignores my protests, his hands gripping my wrists, pinning them above my head. I buck against him, trying to dislodge him, but he doesn’t budge, his body a solid weight on top of mine. “Stop fighting me,” he says, his voice a low murmur, his breath hot against my ear.

“I won’t have sex with you. Not here.”

“You want it here more than anywhere else. Where you’re just poor little Ms. Hill, and I’m Professor Stratford. That’s how you want it.”

I shake my head, denying his words, denying the truth in them. “No,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t.”

He ignores my protests, his mouth capturing mine in a fierce, demanding kiss. I struggle against him, trying to turn my head away, but he’s relentless, his tongue invading my mouth, his teeth nipping at my lips.

I can taste the desperation in his kiss, the hunger, the need. And despite myself, despite my anger, my body responds, heat pooling in my core, my breath coming in ragged pants.

He breaks the kiss, his mouth trailing down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. I shiver, a gasp escaping my lips, my body betraying me, responding to his touch despite my mind’s protests. “William,” I say, my voice a plea, a desperate cry. “Please. I can’t.”

He ignores my pleas, his hands rough and demanding as they roam over my body, squeezing, caressing, possessing. I struggle against him, but my struggles are weak, my body melting beneath his touch, my mind clouded with desire and need. He grips the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head, baring my skin to his hungry gaze. His eyes darken, a growl rumbling in his chest as he takes in the sight of me, half-naked and vulnerable beneath him.

“Professor,” I moan.

He silences me with another fierce kiss, his body pressing against mine, his hardness grinding against my core. I gasp, my body arching against him, my mind a whirl of confusion and desire and need.

He breaks the kiss, his mouth trailing down my body, his tongue licking, his teeth nipping, his hands rough and demanding. I’m lost in a sea of sensation, my body responding to his touch, my mind clouded with desire. I know I should stop him, should push him away, but I can’t. My body betrays me, my need for him overwhelming my senses.

He grips the waistband of my pants, tugging them down, baring me to his hungry gaze. I shiver, a gasp escaping my lips as he trails his fingers up my inner thigh, his touch light, teasing, a stark contrast to the rough demand of his earlier touch. I’m trembling, my body aching with need, my mind a whirl of confusion and desire.

“Spread your legs,” he says again, his voice a low growl.

And despite myself, despite my mind’s protests, I obey.

My legs fall open, baring myself to him completely.