Page 47 of In Control

I rap my knuckles against the door and his voice from within calls out, “enter”, the timbre making me shiver like it always does.

Why does this man make me feel this way?

I push down on the handle and let out an exhale of relief when I find a handful of other people already gathered on chairs in front of the professor’s desk.

I meet his eye as I creep into his office and take a seat towards the back of the room. He watches me sit, his stare on me more lethal than any stupid laser.

He laces his fingers together and addresses us all.

“Now Ms Valentine has joined us, perhaps we can begin.”

Arsehole, it’s not like I was late.

Scott’s intelligence on faculty politics is always spot on and as usual his deductions about the subject of this meeting are correct. The professor makes it clear in no uncertain tones that he and his team will have priority over the Quantum Ion Trap from now on and everyone else will be required to apply to him for permission to use it. Which means I will have to come begging him if I want to use the machine. I wonder if the arsehole planned that. I bet he’d like me to beg him. I remember his insistence that I use the word ‘please’ and heat crawls up my neck with a mixture of anger and desire.

He should be so lucky.

There follows some lively debate which he shuts down with his alpha glare and his dominant tone.

I’m barely listening, instead staring out of the window behind him at the view of the college, its ancient buildings spread across the city. I only realise the discussion has come to an end when chair legs scrape against the polished wooden floorboards. I follow suit, standing, happy to escape the repression of his office, that scent of his clear despite my poor sense of smell.

“Ms Valentine, a word if you please,” the professor says in a low voice.

I keep walking towards the door. “I’m sorry, I have to be somewhere.” I don’t.

“I’m sure whatever you have planned can wait,” he says in a way that makes me understand I’d be better off surrendering to him. The other members of the faculty exiting the office glance between the two of us.

When the last person leaves, the door slamming behind them and their footsteps retreating down the corridor, I meet his eyes with a nonchalant expression.

“What is it, professor?” I ask.

He stands, walking around his desk and pausing in front of it. He’s only an arm's length away.

He’s all alpha, all dominance; his broad shoulders tense and hunched, his eyes dark like coal.

I should be afraid. But as always, with this man, it’s a different kind of shudder that winds its way through my body.

“You think it’s appropriate to come into my office dressed in that,” he says, his voice so low it’s almost a growl.

“Wh-what?” I say, automatically peering down at my body. I didn’t have a clue what I expected him to say, but not in a million years did I expect it to be that. “You have a problem with my … outfit?”

His gaze trawls down my body, and I’m not blind to the flicker of appreciation I see sparking in them.

“You enjoy torturing me? You enjoy driving me to fucking despair?”

I take an angry step towards him. “I think you enjoy torturing yourself. I’ve made it clear you can have me.” I meet his hungry gaze with my own, my skin on fire. “Any time you want, Alpha.”

I forget about Sunday. I forget about the complications with his pack. His eyes are all consuming.

I’m snared, caught in his net, and until he chooses to release me, I’m trapped.

“Any time,” he repeats slowly, the words rolling from his beautiful lips. I can hear his breath grow ragged and I watch his eyes grow impossibly dark. He prowls closer to me, leaning down to taste the air between us. “How about here and now, little one?”

“Yes,” I sigh, closing my eyes, waiting for him, waiting for him to end this madness, this denial between us, and give in to it.

He takes a pace nearer, his hands landing lightly on my hip bones. He pushes me backwards, his pace matching mine, until I knock against the floor-to-ceiling bookcase in his office.

“You’re fucking him. Do you know how crazy that’s making me. I want you to stop fucking him.”

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