Page 49 of See Me After Class

Drums began beating in my chest. Was there hope for me? Did that sound totally and categorically pathetic? I needed to get rid of her, and quickly.

"If you don't mind, can we talk another time?" I asked, hating the hesitation in my voice and hoping she'd take the hint and gracefully retreat.

We reached my office door, and I fumbled with the keys, my fingers suddenly clumsy. A part of me, the part that enjoyed intelligent conversation and a witty sparring partner, wanted to invite her in. But the other, more cautious part, the part that craved solitude and control, urged me to push her away.

"Well," Dessie continued, her voice surprisingly light, "perhaps you could give me a crash course sometime? I'm sure there's so much I don't know about the human body."

She leaned closer, her eyes glinting.

My breath caught in my throat. This woman was playing a dangerous game, testing the boundaries I had so carefully built around myself.

"Dr. Magnusson?" she teased, her voice barely a whisper. "Lost in thought?"

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to meet her gaze. "Perhaps I am," I admitted, surprised at the honesty that slipped from my lips. "Lost in the complexities of the human mind, trying to understand why someone like you would be so interested in the minutiae of muscles and bones."

Dessie laughed. It transported me to a breezy, sunny room by the sea, music playing on a lone wind chime. "Curiosity, Dr. Magnusson. Pure curiosity. And perhaps a little bit of..." She trailed off, her voice dropping to a whisper, "fascination with the man who studies them."

My heart hammered against my ribs.

Is she flirting with me?

The idea was both exhilarating and terrifying. My hitherto dormant libido, buried under years of self-imposed aloofness and cynicism, raised its head.

She wants you.

The hope was too much, almost painfully so.

I turned away from her and walked over to my desk. "Dessie, you're excused."

This was as blunt of aget out of my officeas I could manage.

Pitter patter.

Her footsteps were soft, almost like raindrops falling on a cushioned surface. Somewhere in my subconscious, I registered slender arms moving up my back, trailing long lines.

"Viktor." She spoke my name like cherry wine, her mouth lingering on thek.

My hands were shaking.

"Look at me."

Don't. Don't fucking do it.

She moved her hands upward and touched my shoulders. "Please," she whispered.

My breath hitched in my throat as she, by the sheer force of her words, turned me to face her. Her mouth was inches from mine, red like poison, the kind you could not stay away from.

If this is death, perhaps I choose it.

"Viktor," she spoke again. "I?—"

I did not wait for her to finish. I reached out, my fingers grazing her angular jaw.

"Is that all you'll do?" Her eyes burned as she moved closer, leaving practically no room between us.

"Hardly," I replied drily.

"Then show me what else you can do," she replied tacitly.

---