Chapter 2: Office Hours
750 Words
"Lock the door, Miss Rossi."
The click of the brass lock echoed through the quiet office. Maya stood still, her heart racing. Professor Sterling didn't look up from his paperwork. He sat there with a silver pen, radiating a cold authority that made Maya feel small.
"Come here," he commanded.
She walked toward him, her boots sinking into the thick rug. When she stopped, he leaned back in his leather chair and looked her over. It wasn't the look of a teacher; it was something much more intimate.
He slid a blue exam booklet across the mahogany desk. A B- was circled in red at the top.
"Your thesis on Victorian poisoners was adequate," he said in a low rumble. "But it lacked conviction. You write about the psychology of fear, Maya, but you live in it. You analyze predators from a distance because you're terrified of being seen."
Maya felt her face heat up. "I cited all the sources, Professor. I don't understand."
"I want you to stop hiding," he said softly.
He stood up and circled the desk. He stopped just inches away from her. "Take it off," he commanded.
Maya blinked. "My coat? I'm not wearing a coat."
"The cardigan, Maya." He looked at the oversized burgundy sweater she used as a shield. "Take it off."
Maya felt a surge of panic. She was used to the judgment of the wealthy girls in her seminars. She wore layers of wool to hide her curves because it felt safer.
"Professor, I don't—"
"Maya." He stepped closer. He reached out and covered her hands with his. "You are in my office. You are my student. And I am telling you to take it off. Let me see what you're hiding."
His voice wasn't cruel; it was commanding. Trembling, Maya undid the wooden buttons and let the sweater fall to the floor.
She stood before him in a black lace camisole and jeans. The fabric clung to her curves. She immediately crossed her arms over her chest, blushing deeply.
The only sound was the rain hitting the windows. When Maya looked up, the cold professor was gone. In his place was a man looking at her with hunger.
"Uncross your arms," he whispered.
She obeyed.
Sterling let out a ragged breath and sat back down. He gripped her hips and pulled her flush against him. Maya gasped; she could feel his arousal pressing against her stomach.
"Look at you," he groaned. He buried his face against her stomach, inhaling her scent. His hands gripped her thighs with possessive strength.
"Professor..." she whimpered.
"Alistair," he corrected. "When the door is locked, you call me Alistair."
He looked into her eyes. "The other girls in my class starve themselves to feel worthy. But you... You are a feast. You are so soft."
The raw worship in his voice shocked her. No one had ever looked at her body as if it were a masterpiece.
"Do you have any idea what this does to me?" he whispered, his thumbs brushing her n*****s. "Watching you hide this body under those rags drives me insane."
He pulled her closer. "Tell me you feel it. Tell me you feel how much I want you."
"I feel it," she sobbed softly. "Alistair, please..."
He made a feral sound and reached for the hem of her camisole—
RING!!!
The loud shriek of the landline phone broke the moment.
Maya jumped. Sterling froze. The lust in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, lethal clarity. He kept one arm around her waist but answered the phone.
"Sterling," he said coldly.
His jaw clenched. "Which floor? Secure the perimeter. Do not let the Dean's security team touch the scene. I'm on my way."
He slammed the phone down.
"What is it? What happened?" Maya asked.
Sterling stood up and gently pushed her away. He draped the cardigan back over her shoulders. His touch was professional again, but his eyes were burning.
"Another student," he said quietly. "Found dead in the restricted stacks. Same ligature marks. Same mud."
Maya felt sick. "The killer is escalating."
"He's mocking me," Sterling corrected. He unlocked the door and checked the empty hallway. "Class is dismissed, Maya. Go back to your dorm and pack a bag."
"Pack a bag!? Why?!"
Sterling looked at her lips with a dark promise. "Because you're not staying on campus tonight. Meet me at my penthouse at 8 PM. And Maya? Don't make me come find you."
- Writer
