Page 46 of Love in the Dark

“Good. Can someo–,” my voice cuts off like a record scratch when a hand comes down on Nera’s knee.

Large hand, small knee.

My vision tunnels dangerously.

My gaze moves to Rex who’s sitting beside her, his head turned in her direction like they’re alone together and not in the middle of my fucking class.

“Sorry,” I finally say, clearing my throat loudly. He doesn’t turn away from her. I shake my head with the hope of shaking some sense into myself. “Victoire, please read the first three paragraphs of page forty-seven.”

She starts reading as I look up at Nera’s face. Her eyes are pinned on me, her mouth parted on a surprised gasp. Rex leans closer to her, whispering something mere inches from the shell of her ear.

I can tell by the look on her face that he has no idea she’s bare under her short skirt but that does nothing to quell the murderous impulses raging through me.

His hand is still on her knee, his fingers dancing along her skin, and something about seeing his fingers so close to her pussy when I know she’s not wearing panties makes me want to rip him off her and tear him to shreds.

Outside of one or two darker fantasies, I’m not a violent man. I’m not moved to such strong emotion or extremes. I just don’t care enough.

Right now though, I’m having highly graphic visions of my participation in a bloodbath.

His finger taps her knee and I see blood splattered on the walls.

His other hand goes to the back of her chair and I imagine myself tapdancing happily through fresh puddles of his blood, a real smile stretching my lips.

“The question…,” I start, realizing that Victoire finished reading and the silent class looks to me to lead, “The question is how do we regulate international trade when every party has a vested interest in influencing policy to benefit their country’s position?”

I can barely string two words together. I don’t even know if I’m making sense. I already don’t care about teaching this class well to begin with, and that was before I was forced to sit through this torture.

My eyes keep darting back to where he touches her, where she fuckingletshim. Her legs are still open and I swear to God, if his hand moves up any further, I’ll end him.

I rub my hand over my jaw, trying to refocus on the lesson.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand wrap around his wrist and then she shoves him off her.

Yes.

Good girl, I want to tell her.

“How do we avoid corruption on the global scale?”

His hand comes back, this time on her thigh, and I snap.

“How do– Rex, are we bothering you?”

He whips around to face me, his hand coming off her body. I’m made aware my eyelid was twitching only because I feel it stop when he no longer touches her.

“Sorry, professor. I was asking Nera a question about today’s lesson plan,” he lies.

“Askmenext time. That way you won’t bother your classmate or interrupt my class,” I say, my voice glacial.

His eyes flash with anger but he wisely chooses not to say anything except apologize once more.

“Come down here,” I say, pointing at a seat in the front row. “I want you right where I can see you.”

He reddens, not suffering his humiliation well, but does as I say. He places a hand on Nera’s shoulder as he walks past her and if I wasn’t so sure he has no idea about her and I, I’d say he was doing it just to taunt me.

He slumps into his new seat, his face promising retribution. I’m too busy glaring at Nera to register it.

Her eyes sparkle with excitement, like she’s getting off on watching me intervene. My stomach squeezes in response, the need to put my hands on her thrumming through my veins with a sick beat.

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