Page 2 of Degraded Terms

A singular eyebrow raises as he leans back in his chair, flexing his biceps as his arms cross his chest.

“It’s just unprofessional,” I try to explain, my outrage draining and my courage with it.

There’s no indication he cares or even heard what I said. “Is there a reason you’re bothering me, Miss Williams?”

I press the nail of my middle finger into my thumb, the subtle pain centering me as I nod once.

Clearing my throat, I glance around the room before returning to his impatient glare.

“I—uh. I have to take your class again.”

A brief twitch in the corner of his left eye is the only reaction I get, so I continue on.

“I know I didn’t do well last year?—”

“Do well? You are the lowest graded student I’ve ever had.” His sharp tone cuts through me and I briefly shut my eyes.

“Please, I have to pass this class. I need it to graduate, and the other course is full. Ihave totake this one and I’m asking you to help me.” My voice cracks at the end, making my pleading sound even more pathetic.

Professor Rockford lifts his foot, resting his ankle on his knee as he watches me, the blank expression dashing my hopes.

When we stare at each other in silence for a moment, I shift on my feet, uncomfortable with the thick tension in the room.

“So if you have an extra credit or maybe a tutor?—”

“How badly do you want it?” He cocks his head to the side.

“What?”

“Whatexactlyare you willing to do to pass?”

A chill courses through my bones at the underlying meaning of his question that I’m not sure I want to address.

But the truth of the matter is…I will do a lot.

“Anything,” I mutter.

He lets out a mocking laugh. “That’s a dangerous word. I advise you to take it back, Miss Williams.”

Licking my dry lips, I straighten my shoulders and meet his eyes again.

“I’m willing to doanythingto pass.”

Chapter 2

Asher

Pouring another finger of whiskey,I slam the bottle on the table and grab the shot glass. The alcohol burns down my throat, but it doesn’t soothe the beast raging inside me.

I close my eyes, the image of her trembling by the door still at the forefront of my mind.

Ava Williams is a temptation I thought I got rid of, an obsession I successfully shoved away.

I hadn’t prepared for the possibility of encountering her again just yet, and when she came pleading at my door…I struggled not to shove her to the floor right then and there. Pin her to the ground, rip her jeans off, and take that pussy like it’s been begging me to.

I down another shot, my knuckles tightening over the glass before I throw it against the wall.

The quiet little mouse was nearly my ruin last year. I’d almost lost my consideration for tenure, spending far too much time stalking the oblivious, naïve brat.

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