Page 58 of Wicked Little Secret

I appear at her desk as the last student wanders out of the classroom. My arms are folded behind my back and my expression is tight but controlled. “I expected you to participate today during the discussion.”

She barely glances up at me. Sliding her books into her leather bag, she busies herself with fastening it shut. “Oh, I wasn’t feeling like it today.”

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“No,” she answers vaguely, “just wasn’t in the mood.”

I pause, letting the seconds tick by. I cast a cautious glance over my shoulder to ensure we’re truly alone. “Would you like to go for coffee? Somewhere not in town.”

Her eyes flick back up to me, brows knitting. “Coffee? Why would we go for coffee?”

The hackles on the back of my neck rise. “Why would we?” I repeat slowly. “Because… because Friday.”

“I was at the frat party,” she recites tonelessly. She rises from the small L-shaped desk, sliding her bookbag over her shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor.”

A short laugh slips out of me. “Really, Miss Oliver? We were in my off?—”

“I have to go,” she says. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Professor.”

I stand back, flabbergasted as she rushes past me, straight for the door.

What the hell was that? Is she really pretending like Friday never happened?

Bitterness pools inside me as its own brand of venom.

My top lip curls in a snarl. “Miss Oliver, you know better than that. If I have to remind you, I will gladly do so.”

It’s nine p.m. on Tuesday night, and I’m waiting for Nyssa inside her apartment. I’ve chosen the living room drapes for now, in hopes she won’t need to pry them open so late into the night. But I’m more concerned with the fact that she’s not home yet.

Her classes ended this afternoon. Any known social engagements hours ago.

She was having dinner with a friend from the art group she’s a part of and then she was supposed to make her way home.

I grit my teeth and check my phone. She’s gradually migrating across town, though she spent far longer downtown than I anticipated. Was she meeting someone else? Someone I wasn’t aware of?

My mind fills with the thousand different possibilities. A girl like Nyssa Oliver has limitless options. She’s beautiful, smart, popular, and well-entrenched among the elite circles in Castlebury. Though it seems like she and Driscoll are having a rough patch, she’s close enough to others to manage just fine.

I’m still obsessing over this mystery meeting when thelock clicks in her door and the doorknob twists. A second later, the front door falls open and Nyssa wanders inside, already tugging off her scarf and coat. She barely remembers to lock the door again before she’s padding down the hall sighing and stretching her arms in the air.

I peek out slightly from behind the window drapes, otherwise so still and silent I might as well be a statue.

My ears pick up every sound in the modest-sized college apartment. The trickling sound of water drifts over from the bathroom and the thud of opening and shutting cabinets follows. She’s pulling out the items for her nighttime routine.

It’s not until I’m certain she’s in the shower that I step out from behind the thick window drapes. My steps are ghost-like, very light and soundless. I slowly drift toward the scent that permeates the air—her sweet, woodsy musk that makes me hard upon inhaling.

Nyssa indulges in her hot shower.

I’m lurking in the distance, out of sight but still able to steal a peek.

She stands under the heated spray of water like it’s the best feeling in the world. It’s certainly one of the best sights. The water cascades over her naked body, thick droplets splashing along the curve of her pert breasts and down the valley of her flat stomach.

I lick my lips and feel the arousal pulsing in my veins.

The moment couldn’t be more forbidden, yet I could never bring myself to turn away.

Now that I’ve had a taste of Nyssa Oliver, I can’t possibly give her up.

I must have her.

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