Extra Credit

012: Number

EVANGELINE

“I’ve told you, Professor,” I replied, looking up at him from under my lashes. It’s a look I’ve mastered well. Using every unfair advantage to my advantage.

The effect is clear.

Professor Arthur swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and for one sinful second, I wanted to kiss it. Trace it with my tongue, feel the warmth of his skin under my lips.

I raised my hand, and for a second I hesitated touching his chest.

Before I could touch him, he seized my hands and pinned them above my head in one swoop.

His grip tightened, to the point where pain shot through my wrists and I whined softly. “Professor…”

“f**k,” he hissed under his breath.

That confirmed it.

He was affected.

“Do you know what you’re asking for, Miss Bramwell?”

“I’m not a child, Professor. I know—“

“You don’t.” He cut me off, his voice stern. “Look at you. It’s clear all over your face, you have no f*****g idea of the world. Tell me, do you know what it’s like to be touched?”

“Yes,” I gasped breathlessly.

“Liar.”

I bit my lower lip. “I’m not…I’m not lying. I mean, you’re touching me now aren’t you?”

His eyes narrowed. I could see that he didn’t appreciate my sarcasm.

“This isn’t a joke. I don’t have a bone of gentleness in my body, Miss Bramwell. A starry eyed girl like you? Out of the question.”

He leaned into me, so close his breath fanned my lips. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to kiss me. I was so hot I felt like melting.

“I’m not starry eyed.” I said firmly.

“You are. You want romance, you want letters and cute dates and flowers. I’m not that kind of man. I cannot give you those. You? Miss Bramwell? I’ll ruin you. I’ll take every ounce of innocence you have and corrupt you.”

I whimpered, my knees quivering as I pressed my thighs together.

“I’ll break you, and I won’t put you back together because I like my toys broken. You’re young. You’re smart. Don’t get involved with men like me. So stop this nonsense and don’t bring this talk up ever again.”

He dropped my hands and stepped back, putting space between us, his back turned to me.

I nearly lost my footing and slipped down the door.

My heart thrashed against my ribcage like it wanted to jump out and run away.

My face burned.

And between my legs was a different kind of burn. One I’d never felt in all my life. Not even when I was with Jeremy. It made me want to reach down my panties and touch myself.

“Go home,” Professor Arthur said without glancing at me.

“What if I want it?” I asked. My voice was so low it came out as a whisper.

He glanced at me. “What?”

“I said, what if I want it?” I straightened myself up, my fists curling at my sides. “Professor, what if I want you? No gentleness, just you. What if I want to broken. What if I want my innocence corrupted. What if I want to be involved with you?”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! I’m not a child! I can make decisions for myself. I know what I want. All my life has been mapped out and planned and coordinated and this, this is what I want for myself. Not because I’m being influenced, not because I’m being manipulated, but because it’s what I want.”

He finally turned and looked at me. Slowly. Like he was seeing me for the first time.

My chest burned and I stood my ground, refusing to back down.

I’m tired of being caged. By my parents, their expectations, the company looming over my head like a guillotine.

“I’m not saying we have to end up together, get married and have ten babies I’m just…” I trailed off. “I have only three months, Professor. That’s not even enough time to fall in love.”

“You intend to use me as a fling, Miss Bramwell?”

I smiled. “You say that like usage is a one way bridge. And who knows, this arrangement might motivate me to do better in your class.”

He laughed.

It was short, but one I wouldn’t forget in a while.

“You’re something. Really something.”

“So you accept?”

“Hell no. You’ve lost your mind completely. Get out.”

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. “Worth a shot.”

He looked offended.

I bit back my laughter. There’s something about his reactions that makes me want to keep poking at him. He’s so much fun to play with.

Looks like I need to go back to planning.

If I’m gonna Pavlov him successfully, I need an even stronger trigger.

With my mind made up, I flashed a dazzling smile. “Have a good night, Professor. I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and, please can I have some duties? I feel like a TA on paper.”

“Just go home. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“And then you’ll give me your number?” I clasped my hands together, my smile widening.

“My answer remains no, Miss Bramwell. No.”

“Alright let me give you mine? Just think about it. Let’s say you forgot something important you wanted to tell me—

“I have your student email.”

“What if it’s working that can’t be said in the emails?”

“I’ll say it in person.”

“But what if I’m so far away and I—

“Fine. Goodness you talk up a storm.” He took a sticky note and handed it over to me. “Write down your number.”

I squealed, feeling proud at my work. I quickly scribbled my number, writing my name and drawing a cute little heart.

“Here! I look forward to your call, Professor.”

“Don’t bank on it.” He grumbled, folding the sticky note neatly in half before placing it in his pocket. “Can you go now?”

I nodded. “Good night! Don’t miss me too much!”

“Don’t say things like that, Miss Bramwell! For goodness sake!”

See? He’s so easy to rile up. He’s fun.

And I’m going to have so much fun with him!

I waved him goodbye and sprinted out of his office. I felt over the moon, my heart warm and fuzzy, and the smile on my face so wide my cheeks hurt. I didn’t even know when I started humming, a skip in my step as I headed outside the school.

I gave him my number! It wasn’t anything big, but it was some improvement. Once he calls or texts, I’ll finally have his private number.

Oh my goodness I’m on cloud nine! All I need to do is—

“Evangeline.”

My blood turned to ice.

That voice. I knew what voice well!

I turned, and to my greatest horror, my father was here. He’d just stepped out of his car and was about to head into the building. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me.

My father! Oh f**k s**t! He didn’t tell me he was coming!

My heart raced in fear and dropped down to my stomach. This can’t be good. What is my father doing here?!

“You said you were in the library. What are you doing in the Humanities?”