Page 3 of Ruthless Temptation
“I saved a seat for you,” she whispers when I’ve settled into the seat beside her. We’re smack in the middle of the room. I wish we were closer to the front.
I nod, giving her a slight smile. “Thanks, Cass.”
Though we’re roommates and fairly close, I haven’t been able to tell Cassidy about the future that awaits me when I head back to Colombia this summer. Her life is perfect—she’s descended from royalty, with perfect grades, perfect hair, the perfect fucking life. Hell, she didn’t even have to suffer through initiation like the rest of us on Hemlock House.
She would never understand what it’s like.
My mood starts sinking, so I turn my attention to the whiteboard. Our professor has his back turned to us while he writes something on the board—the Electra Complex. I could care less about what that even means.
I only came here for him.
Professor Erik Holmes is the only bright spot in my life right now.
Today, he’s dressed in a gray striped dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, showing off the shadowy tattoos decorating his olive skin. He’s got his hand in the pocket of his slacks, and the muscles in his hands flex as he writes on the board. Even from behind, he’s a sight to behold. His muscular back ripples beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, his tight ass sits perfectly in those fucking pants—even the way he’s standing has this sort of clever, calculated composure to it that makes my abdomen clench.
I’m gripping the edge of the armrest, waiting for him to turn around so I can see what his mood is like today when Cassidy titters beside me. My eyes snap to her face; she’s trying—and failing—to hold back a laugh.
My eyebrows furrow.
“You’re practically drooling,” she teases, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re making it way too obvious.”
My cheeks heat up and I look away from her, adjusting myself in the seat.
I look at the students around us to see if any of them noticed, but they are either staring at the whiteboard or making notes. Still, I lower my eyes. A tendril of fire blooms in my chest.
I wish I never told Cassidy about my crush on Professor Holmes.
We had been gossiping about who we would have sex with one night while coming back from a party. We were both drunk, and I guess that loosened my lips. Ever since then, she’s never missed an opportunity to tease me about him.
At first, I thought she would stop. Now, it’s just plain annoying. Especially since I don’t tease her about the fact theone guy she’s obsessed with fucks a new girl every week and won’t even give her the time of day.
I am above certain jokes, but clearly she isn’t.
“Give it a rest,” I say, hoping she understands the severity of my tone.
Cassidy rolls her eyes, swatting me away as her grin grows even wider. I’m just about to lean over to tell her I’m being serious when Professor Holmes turns to face the class. I settle in my seat and cross my legs. The thoughts leave my head.
All I can do is stare at him.
His dark hair looks like he let it air-dry after coming out of the shower. It’s still damp and falls over his forehead in slight curls. I’ve always loved the color of his hair—he’s got gray in his sideburns and at the roots by his ears, but nowhere else.
My eyes roam his face, appreciating the stubble on his sharp jaw, the well-trimmed mustache, but I keep going back to his eyes. They are the color of grass at sunset: a deep green that looks almost coppery sometimes. There’s a certain austerity to them that makes me wonder what it would take to make him come undone.
Professor Holmes’ deep voice fills the room. I hold on to every word.
He starts talking about the Electra Complex and its implications. Pages rustle as students rush to make notes, but I focus on him, committing what he says to memory.
“Jung, expanding on Freud’s theory of the negative Oedipus Complex, put forth the idea that an unresolved Electra Complex can result in a woman who strives to dominate the men in her life, either through seduction orsubmission.” He paces the length of the room, his eyes skimming the faces of the students in the front.
I watch him, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Personally, I agree with Jung,” Professor Holmes’ flashes a grin that makes my knees feel weak. His words elicit a chuckle from the class. “I hope that whatever side you choose for your thesis will be well-supported.”
I smile too, and a swatch of color bleeds into my world.
This feeling is the reason why I still enjoy coming to his class.
Not only is he the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, but he’s also the smartest one too. Every lecture feels like a quest for intellectual excellence. No matter where I am in my head, Professor Holmes’ presence always enlivens me in a way that keeps me buzzed for hours after. It’s like a shot of dopamine, to watch him still get excited to talk to us even though he has been teaching it for years.
