After The Bell Rings

Chapter Seven - Terms and Conditions

Olivia’s POV

Two weeks.

That’s how long it’s been since the hallway moment — since his hands pinned me, since his breath ghosted over my skin like a warning and a promise.

And since then?

Nothing.

Not a word.

Not a glance.

Not even my name.

I wasn’t expecting flowers or whispered confessions. I’m not that naive. But I wasn’t prepared for this brutal silence either. I didn’t know someone’s absence could be so loud. Every class, every hallway, every second he passed by me without looking — it cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

At night, I’d lie awake replaying it all. The way he said my name. The way his body felt so close. The way he almost… almost kissed me.

And in the quiet, my body would ache with a hunger I didn’t understand — a need that had his name written all over it.

But he acted like I didn’t exist.

Like I hadn’t pressed my thighs together the second he left me breathless against that wall.

I told myself I was imagining things, that the heat I’d felt the last time we were alone was just… tension. Hormones. A moment.

But moments don’t burn like that.

Moments don’t leave bruises in your mind you can’t stop touching.

Especially not when the man responsible for them walks around like nothing happened. Like he didn’t look at me that way. Like he didn’t want to touch me, taste me, take me.

Or worse—like he had.

And maybe… he had. Not me. But someone else. I wasn’t stupid. I knew men like him didn’t stay lonely. And even if he hadn’t touched me again, I’d seen the signs. The faint scent of perfume that didn’t belong to me. The barely visible scratch on his neck that wasn’t mine. The lazy, satisfied smirk that only shows up after s*x.

He was f*****g someone.

Just not me.

And yet I couldn’t look away.

Today’s class dragged. He barely looked up from his notes.

It broke something in me.

The last student files out. My heart’s racing. My legs feel like lead, but I force them forward. He’s gathering his papers like it’s just another day — like he hasn’t ruined my sleep and sanity.

I stayed back, pretending to gather my things, he walked right past me without a glance.

That was the final straw.

“Why are you doing this?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

He paused. Slowly turned.

His jaw was tight. Eyes unreadable. His voice, when it came, was cold.

“Doing what?”

I stepped closer. My heart was racing, but I forced my chin up.

“Ignoring me. Acting like I don’t exist. You don’t even say my name.”

He laughed once—sharp and bitter. “That’s the problem, Olivia. I shouldn’t say your name.”

“Why?” My voice cracked. I hated how small I sounded. “Because it’ll make it real?”

He moved faster than I expected—one step, then two, until I was backed against the wall, his hand pressed beside my head, his body crowding mine.

“Because I want to bend you over this desk every time you look at me like that,” he whispered, voice low and rough. “Because I’ve spent two weeks trying to erase you from my head by f*****g other people and it didn’t work.”

My breath caught. My knees nearly buckled.

He leaned in, lips brushing my ear.

“You think I’m cruel for ignoring you? I’m cruel because I know if I touch you again, I won’t stop.”

I turned my face toward him, eyes locked on his. “Then don’t stop.”

He froze.

Then his mouth crashed into mine.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle. It was a punishment—teeth, tongue, hands gripping my hips like he wanted to bruise them.

I moaned into him, helpless against the wave of heat crashing down my spine.

His hand slipped under my skirt, palm dragging up the inside of my thigh, fingers just grazing the edge of my underwear.

“This what you wanted?” he growled against my mouth. “Me losing control?”

I couldn’t speak. I could only nod.

My head dropped back against the wall, breath ragged

“You don’t know what you want,” he rasps. “You’ve never kissed anyone before, have you?”

I shake my head, biting my lip. “I don’t know what I feel. I just know I want more. From you.”

That’s when he shifts.

His hands still hold me — firm but gentler now. His eyes rake over my face, looking for something. Then he steps back, like he’s trying to cage himself.

“Careful what you beg for, Olivia. I don’t do soft. I don’t do sweet. I’ll break you open and fill every part of you until all you can remember is my name.”

My breath catches.

“If you want this, Olivia… there are rules.”

I blinked. “Rules?”

“One,” he says, ticking the air with his fingers. “No love. No relationship. You are not mine, and I am not yours.”

I nod, heart thudding.

“Two. I’m in charge. You don’t question me. You don’t control anything. You submit.”

My thighs squeeze together. “Yes.”

“Three. You’re available to me whenever I want. You don’t say no unless it’s a safe word.”

My mouth is dry. “Okay.”

“Four. Outside of these moments, you’re just another student. We don’t talk. We don’t text. We don’t know each other.”

I nod again.

“And five…” He steps forward. “You tell no one. Ever.”

The air crackles between us. And I should run. Should back away. But all I feel is fire — licking up my spine, tightening in my chest, coiling low in my belly.

“Yes,” I whisper. “To all of it.”

He smiles — but it’s not kind.

“Then prove it.”

Before I can react, he grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the desk. His movements are fast — practiced — like he’s wanted this for weeks but kept it caged until now.

I gasp as he spins me around, bending me forward over the edge of the desk. My palms hit the wood. His body presses behind mine, caging me.

“Look at you,” he murmurs into my neck. “Two weeks of silence and you’re still dripping for me, aren’t you?”

I moan when his hand slides up my thigh, fingers ghosting the edge of my skirt.

“I knew it,” he smirks. “You’ve been dreaming about this. Touching yourself at night. Whispering my name like a prayer.”

His fingers slide beneath my skirt. My breath hitches.

He hooked a finger around my panties and tugged—hard. The elastic snapped.

I gasped.

He shoved the ruined fabric into his pocket like a trophy, then dragged his fingers over me, slow and filthy.

His hand dips lower, brushing against my heat, and I shudder against the desk.

“You’re soaking,” he whispers. “And I haven’t even kissed you properly.”

His fingers stroke, slow and maddening, just enough pressure to make me squirm. His other hand grips my hip, holding me still.

“You want me to f**k you over this desk, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” I breathe, the word barely audible.

He chuckles low in his throat — a sound that slides over my skin like sin.

And then—

Footsteps.

Sharp, echoing down the hallway just beyond the door.

Nick freezes. His hand withdraws immediately. I spin around, breathless, dizzy.

His eyes meet mine — something wild burning there. But it’s gone just as fast, locked behind his usual stone mask.

“Go,” he commands, voice tight. “Now.”

I hesitate.

He grabs my chin, fingers firm. “We’ll finish this later. But right now, you need to leave.”

I nod, still dazed. My legs feel like jelly as I fix my skirt and head for the door.

Just before I step out, he calls my name.

“Olivia.”

I turn.

His gaze is dark. Possessive.

“Don’t wear panties tomorrow.”