Page 37 of Tenure

“You’re going to go wash your face. You’re going to catch your breath. And then you’re going to go back to class. Do you understand?”

She nods again.

“Good girl,” I purr, warmth flooding my chest. “I’ll call you later.”

“Thank you,” she whispers.

She remembered to say thank you . . .

I’m so fucked.

30

Kiernan

SJ seemed to have decided to leave my dignity intact and hasn’t said anything even though my face was the colour of an eggplant when I scurried back into class. Or maybe she just thought I was being awkward—it was unlikely the first thing to cross her mind was “Kiernan stripped naked in the bathroom and fucked herself in the pussy and ass on camera for her university professor.” All she said waswe’ll talk about this later.I told her I was going to be busy all weekend.

I didn’t think I’d hear from him again today, considering. When he said he’d “call me later” I’d expected like, Sunday maybe. If at all. But to my surprise he calls around four-thirty, the phone vibrating loudly on the counter just as I step out of the shower.

“Hello?” I say breathlessly, butterflies exploding in my gut.

“Hi.” There’s a rustling noise, like he’s putting on a coat and changing hands. “What are you doing?”

I blush. “Um . . . I just got out of the shower?”

He exhales loudly. “I’mreallytempted to Facetime you right now, but I think one bathroom encounter was enough for both of us today.”

“Thank you,sir.” He groans, and I chuckle. “You really like that, huh?”

“You have no idea,” he says darkly. “I like it almost as much as your laugh.”

I flush, drying the ends of my hair with my towel.

“Do you make all your girlfriends call you sir?” My mouth drops open at the same time as I drop my phone.Fuck. I’m such a fucking idiot.I scramble to pick it back up and feel like I might barf.Girlfriend?! What the fuck is wrong with me?!“I didn’t mean—I’m not saying—I don’t think you’re my—”

“Breathe, Kiernan. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. This is fuckingmortifying,” I grumble.

“This is fuckingadorable.”

“Well?” I snap. “Do you? Make your . . .women . . .call you sir?”

He laughs, an outright unrestrained laugh that makes my skin tingle right to my toes.

“Nobody’s ever called me sir outside of a classroom before. And I’ve never asked anyone to.”

“So, why are you askingme?”I whine.

“I’m not asking you, Kiernan. I’m telling you.”

“But why?” I pout, annoyed. “Sir,”I tack on, albeit irritably.

“Because you’re not the kind of woman who would say that easily. And I’m very,veryrarely challenged.”

“By girls?”

“Byanyone.”

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