Voyeur

“I—I’m so honored you thought of me,” I said, a wide smile splitting my face. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” He stood from his desk and walked over to me with a paper. “Here’s the application. Look it over and fill it out. Deadline is in two weeks, so don’t waste time getting it back to me.”

“I won’t,” I said, stuffing the paper in my bag and standing to leave. “Thank you so much for this. I won’t let you down.”

I walked toward physics, practically bouncing with excitement at the possibility of a paid internship. It wasn’t much, but with all new scholarships and loans, my work study programs, and maybe finding another job, I could quit working at Voyeur. Not that I hated working there, but the reality of Dr. Pierce having seen me brought a whole new issue into play that I hadn’t really considered.

What if I ran into other people who’d seen me? What if it was someone I knew, and they used it against me? Judged me?

I needed that internship.

Walking into class, I kept my head down and avoided eye contact with Dr. Pierce. I’d entered close to class starting, which prevented me from sitting in the back like I’d planned. Olivia waved at me from our usual spot in the front where she’d saved a seat. Damnit.

“Where were you?” she whispered.

“I had a meeting with Dr. Denly about a paid internship.”

Her jaw dropped open and her eyes widened with excitement. She was about to ask another question when Dr. Pierce started the lecture.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Despite spending most of the time avoiding his gaze, his voice drew me in, and I lifted my head. He’d been staring right at me and now that I’d looked, I couldn’t turn away. It was like he controlled my ability to move. I was frozen under his gaze.

Electricity was a living breathing thing between us. Did everyone see it? The more I stared, the more I saw. Yes, the heat was there, but something else. Some other emotion I couldn’t decipher. I tried desperately though, needing to understand what he thought. He’d left me lying there on the bed after I almost begged him to leave, but I couldn’t help but remember his soft kisses and his thank yous, as though I’d given him some gift. I’d been scared of what happened next. Scared that he would think that I could be bought for sex, worried that now that he’d had me, he would let me know what he really thought of me.

The thoughts had run through my head, and I’d panicked. Would I have turned around and seen regret lining his eyes? Would I have seen disgust? Any of the emotions I’d imagined seeing on his face had scared me. I wasn’t even sure of what I’d wanted to see. Was I hoping for desire, happiness, caring? Was I hoping to find that he’d want more than just sex? Was I hoping he’d have a blank stare ready to ignore any of it?

My body and heart had wanted to shout how right it felt to have his body over mine. How perfectly we aligned, and how his lips felt on my skin. My mind had wanted me to run, tried to convince me that I’d made a huge mistake letting my professor touch me. So, I’d been a coward and demanded he leave, taking control of the moment before any other emotions could. However, watching him now, what I was feeling took my breath away. The heat was there, but so was desire and . . . Hope?

A book fell with a loud smack onto the floor, and it broke the lock between us. We blinked, and finally I was free.

I still watched him too closely, trying to avoid his eyes when he’d glimpse my way. I watched his long fingers grip the marker as he scribbled across the board and all I could think about was how they’d been inside me. How they’d felt when they’d wrung an orgasm from my body. I remembered the way he’d licked my cum off of them as he held my stare.

“Dr. Pierce.”

“Call me Callum or Cal while I’m inside you.”

I heard it over and over in my head. My breathy moans and his rough voice that still sent shivers skittered over my skin just remembering it.

His moan haunted me last night when he came all over my ass and back. I woke to a bruise on my shoulder from the way he bit me as he touched my breasts for the first time. I lifted my hand and rubbed against it over my sweater, loving the soreness and the constant reminder of it.

His eyes locking on the motion, causing him to stutter over his words. His gaze seared me with heat. He was remembering too, and it made the ache that much sweeter.