Page 15 of Ruthless Temptation
What if they’re both playing me?
My hands are lightly clenched into fists by the time I’m at Professor Holmes desk. He’s sitting with his legs crossed, twirling a pen with those long, sinful fingers as he appraises a document. He doesn’t speak or acknowledge me immediately, only lifts his eyes to watch the last of the students file out of the lecture hall.
During that time, anger kindles inside me like a lit match. I can’t unsee the story I’ve spun in my head. I wish I could deck him—that would make me feel better. I probably should; it’s not like it even matters anymore.
My hands tighten.
Professor Holmes rakes his eyes over my body and licks his lips. “I appreciate the effort you made to show up early. But it doesn’t matter if you do not pay attention.”
His voice is like light warm rain on my skin, and I hate how it makes me tingle.
So, he noticed my inattentiveness.
“I didn’t think you would care,” I say sharply.
Professor Holmes leans back in his chair, dropping his pen. His green eyes hold a warning, but I don’t care for it. "Miss Vásquez, I suggest you watch your tone with me.”
I narrow my eyes.
“Why would it matter?” I say in a hushed whisper. “None of this matters. I don’t have to pay attention in your stupid fucking class.”
Professor Holmes’ eyes go feral; I’ve hit him where it hurts. He stands quickly, and I’m enveloped by his shadow. Instantly,I’m reminded of just how huge he is compared to me. He towers over me with a scowl on his face.
“This is your last warning.” His voice is little more than a whisper, but it sears my skin like a hot brand. “I don’t tolerate disrespect.” Professor Holmes’ eyes linger on my lips, then my bosom. “Not even from you.”
I scoff.
“That won’t work on me anymore,” I lie, even as the tension in the room wraps around me in a way that makes me ashamed. My thundering heartbeat has moved lower.
Professor Holmes straightens, taking a single step towards me. The sound of his dress shoes on the floor echo like gunshots. “What the hell has gotten into you, Tara?”
He appraises me as if he’s considering what to do, as if what I say next matters to him.
“How many other favorite students do you have?” I say with all the vitriol I can muster. “I’m just a fucking notch on your bedpost, huh? Do you get off on fucking your students, or?—”
Professor Holmes’ hand snaps to my mouth, stifling the rest of my sentence. He grips the back of my head harshly, pulling my hair in the process. The fire in his gaze is an inferno now. His eyes are dark, filled with malice and the threat of pain.
That look is familiar to me. It’s what I’m used to.
He pulls in a breath so deep that he closes his eyes, his chest expanding against mine.
“What the fuck has gotten into you?” His voice is low but pricks my skin like tiny needles. There’s violence in a tone like that. I should be scared, but my traitorous nipples tighten. “Where is this coming from?”
Professor Holmes obviously doesn’t want an answer because his hand is still pressed against my mouth. I part my lips, struggling against his grip until my teeth find purchase in one ofhis fingers. I bite down hard. He doesn’t react, so I keep going until my mouth tastes of copper.
He is stoic, even though I know he’s in pain.
He holds my gaze, the edge of his lip twisting into some sort of macabre smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. If anything, the heat in them has transformed from hatred to something else entirely. He looks as though he would devour me.
My heart hammers in my chest because I know I would let him.
“I’m giving you one chance to tell me what’s sparked this,” he says. “Then, I’ll answer your questions.” His eyebrows lower. “If you swear at me, I will have you punished so harshly you’ll beg me to kill you instead.”
I can’t stop the surprise that twists my features. I know enough about him not to doubt that he would.
Slowly, he moves his bleeding hand from my mouth. I glance at it to see that a rivulet of blood has wrapped itself around his ring finger. He doesn’t seem to care, so I force down the twinge of guilt.
“Cassidy.” My lip trembles. “I know you’re fu—having sex with her too. I know that you lied to me that I’m special and I hate you for it.” My words aren’t powerful anymore. They come off a bit whiny to me. I figure I’m doing a piss poor job of hiding just how hurt I am.
