Page 25 of Lessons with the Mothman

I brushed his arm away, covering my cough with my elbow, eyes watering and head shaking as my phone clattered to the table, thankfully face down. The last thing I needed was Lyle asking who Professor E. was, or why I was being offered the opportunity to earn extra credit at a private address.

At least my sudden choking spell—on an inconveniently timed gulp of water—would cover the reason for my face being so red.

Elias wanted torole-play?!

And of all the scenarios he could've chosen… Did fae read minds? For a moment, Lyle's voice faded under a ringing siren in my head as I tried to remember what I'd told Elias that night at the diner. I'd mentioned the affair, but…no, no, I was confident I hadn't said it was with my professor. This was a coincidence. A ridiculous one, but still, not intentional. Just as the dream of "lessons" I'd had afterwards had been a coincidence.

Hopefully.

"I'm fine," I rasped, shaking my head. "Swallowed wrong."

"Ugh, I hate when that happens. Everyone stares like you're dying, and it's the…" Lyle trailed off as I searched the taqueria,but it was late for lunch and early for dinner, and the only alarmed glances I received were from the staff behind the counter. "Sorry. I'll leave you to breathe," Lyle offered with a grin.

Teacher student, Elias? Really?

It was like a scenario out of a cheesy porno, the kind where a simpering girl in a too short skirt and too few shirt buttons—and dear god,pigtails—whines and pleads she'll do anything to raise her grade while a smirking?—

I shuddered and closed my eyes, sadly put off my appetite for my nachos. I would have to email Elias back my disinterest, and maybe it would be an easier way of explaining I'd changed my mind altogether. Did he really think I was the type who would?—

He doesn't. That's the point.

I paused, my hand covering my phone, staring into the swirling wood grain pattern on the table in front of me.

I'd told Elias we had to be different people in any situation we might have sex together. I'd been thinking of some basic compartmentalization, but this was creative. My lips twitched. Crude, and silly, and out of character.

A little filthy.

The shock of the offer, the resemblance to my fling with Stanton and the strange dream, was jarring, but I'd certainly never gone crawling to Phillip asking for extra credit.

And crawling toward Elias… A warm curl of interest brushed through me, stroking between my thighs.

It had an appeal. I wasn't sure I could simper, but I knew how to be demure. My mother had taught me that. I knew how to play a role.

My mouth watered at the thought of how I might be asked to earn the extra credit. It would befor him, just as I had asked. I would have to please him, gain his approval. "For my grades."

I snorted, and Lyle glanced at me.

"Better?" he asked, head tipped in curiosity.

Damn. I'd forgotten again about his sixth sense.

"Still breathing," I answered, sliding my phone into my pocket and reaching for my plate of nachos.

Professor E.

Thank you for this offer. I'll do whatever it takes.

Miss Dempsey

CHAPTER 10

Victoria

I brushedmy fingers through my curls, teeth picking at the skin of my bottom lip and staring at my own reflection. Elias's house was eerily quiet around me. He'd emailed me the gate code and where he'd hidden me a key. It felt a bit like I was breaking in, but there was a kind of relief in not seeing him right away. I'd brought a change of clothes with me, unable to brave the idea of walking around in Chicago in my…costume, even if no one would've glanced twice, and the solitude gave me the chance to change without facing him first.

I stepped back from the mirror, surveying myself. My recently thrifted pleated skirt would never have been short enough for the X-rated movie version of this scenario; it hit the appropriate height above the knee for any school dress code, and I'd buttoned my short sleeve blouse all the way up. But I'd taken off my bra and underwear.

Fuck. What was Idoing?

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