Page 65 of Tenure

I tense up at the sound of his voice, and James’ eyes narrow, sharp gaze taking in my fidgety hands, and I watch his entire body stiffen, a black cloud passing over his face and parking itself there.

He stands up slowly and my heart starts tothunder,lodged in my throat, as he turns to face Graham.

“You saidfucking bitch,” he says, his voice deathly quiet.

“What? I’m really sorry, Professor, I’ll pay for the—”

“Kiernan. You called her afucking bitch.”

“What? What are you talking about!”

“At the party. On Bleeker. She picked up the phone, and you called her a fucking bitch.”

His voice is steady. Sharp as razors. I brave turning my head to look at them and see all of the blood drain out of Graham’s face.

“She was practically riding my cock in front of the whole room and then she—”

Blood spatters everywhere as James’ fist connects makes his nose two-dimensional with a sickening crunch. I wince as Graham stumbles backwards into his car.

“What the FUCK!” he shrieks, touching his face and looking down at his blood-soaked hand. “Are you fucking crazy? She—”

Graham’s head snaps back—again—as James plants one right in his fucking mouth, his back landing flat across the trunk of his car.

I scramble out of the door wishing—for the first time today—that I didn’t have a toy in my ass just as James pulls his arm back again. I catch his elbow, and he stops, panting, shaking with rage.

“It’s not worth it,” I say.

James turns to me, eyes full of pure rage.

“Yes. It is.”

I squeeze his arm a little harder, genuinely touched.Who did this to you . . .It echoes in my mind, plays on a loop at night when I’m not thinking about his cock splitting me open or trying toactuallystudy.

Graham spits and there’s a funny little tinkling noise. We both look over at him, and he’s spit a tooth out onto the concrete parking garage floor.

“He’s had enough,” I say quietly.

James cracks his knuckles. “I’m going to fucking choke him to death.”

I smile warmly at him, strings of blood dripping from Graham’s mouth as he stares at us in a panic, clearly dazed—probably concussed—with fear in his eyes.

“There’s only one person you’ll be choking today,” I say.

His eyes flare, but I can feel that he’s torn. That he’d very much like to stay and beat this piece of shit into pulp.

I lean into his ear, my palm on his abs, and whisper to him. “Please, daddy. Take me home and choke me.”

He closes his eyes, body shuddering, collecting himself a little—I think.

He puts his hand on my back and pushes me towards the car. I hesitate, but he looks me in the eye and seems to have rediscovered rational thought because he nods.

“Get in the car. We’ll leave in a minute.”

I get in and put my seatbelt on right away, and he smiles down affectionately at me before turning back to Graham.

“You’ll be paying for this in cash. I’ll email you the quote,” he says in a casual voice. “And if you ever so much as bat an eyelash at Kiernan again, I will remove your skin with my letter opener and use it as a toilet seat cover. Do you understand me?”

“Professor, I—”

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