She’s a ball of mixed signals. Her body shows clear signs of flirtation and intrigue but her words sing a very different tune. The last thing I want to do is frighten her.
“As a matter of fact, no, I don’t do this often. Actually, this is the first time anything even remotely like this has happened to me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Fuck. She’s scared of me.
“If I was uncomfortable, as you say, that would mean I have to care what you say or do. I was wanting to call you out on your creep value. Don’t flatter yourself to think you have that much power over me. You don’t.”
She punctuates her blast of ire with a lean into my desk. It’s like the cobra fanning its hood in lieu of a strike. She’s asserting her position, thereby igniting a fire I don’t know will be able to be extinguished.
I move, not toward her, but just to my left, one single pace toward the curve of my desk. “And you’re flattering yourself by assuming that I want to exert any type of power over you. I much prefer all female participants in any aspect of my life to be eager and enthusiastically willing to do whatever it is that is desired by them… or me.”
As I progress to the right, she follows behind me. We are opponents on each side of a playing field. We circle slowly with the desk being the barrier between us. “It’s a wonder anyone gets a choice with you at all.”
“Now that was below the belt, wouldn’t you say? Do you truly think that of me? You hardly know me.”
She isn’t backing down from this or from me. This could prove to be a very large problem. With every passing moment, the desire to pounce on her like prey winds its way through me like a vine.
“And you don’t know me either, unless it’s through a lens or challenging me like a child in front of my peers. I’m more than just a face, Tristan.”
I can see the flush of red come over her cheeks. She can’t believe she said my given name. Not Professor, nor Professor Sloane. Tristan. I’ve had that name called many times in many ways. I can honestly say without a doubt, hearing it from those lips I want against mine, feasting on my skin, or around my cock, is nearly the most intoxicating thing I’ve heard in my life.
“My debate with you wasn’t intended to make you feel like a child. You were the only student that has ever challenged me in that way, especially in front of their peers. Seeing you speak your mind so openly, on the first day of class, no doubt, was something masterful and something others needed to see.” Not to mention it made me ravenous for you in a way I’m incapable of showing you.
What I wouldn’t give to have her say my name again.
“Please, don’t tease me.”
“I could never tease you like that.”
My next move has to be calculated very carefully. I’m on campus, in my office, with a female student...who I’d like to bend over my desk. However, I can’t let this moment go by without making my intent abundantly clear .
“That’s what it feels like. Being here, with you looking at me like that and saying these things,” she sighs heavily and fiddles with the necklace around her neck in what I can only assume is a nervous habit, “it makes me feel overwhelmed.”
I’ve never wanted to slide my hands across someone’s naked body so intensely in my entire life. The way she’s flushing the most beautiful shade of pink that I’ve ever seen makes my fingertips actually tingle with need. I shove my hands in my pockets, just to make sure I don’t give in to temptation.
“I can tell. You’re trembling, but I don’t think you’re scared. Are you scared of me, love?”
“I um… scared of you? No. Scared to be alone with you. Yes.”
The word yes floats like a feather on a breeze from her lips to my ears. “Tell me why, Miss Morgan… Nora.”
I can hear her sharp intake of breath when I say her name, like it physically pains her or quite the opposite.
“Because I don’t know if I can trust you… even though I want to.” She finally looks into my eyes directly with her chin held high. “I really want to.”
The mixture of fear and confliction on her face is difficult to witness. Someone hurt this girl. I can see it in her eyes.
“I’ve not given you a reason to do anything but trust me, have I?”
“Besides watching me and making me feel beautiful? No. Not yet.”
“Not yet? That’s very cynical of you.”
“Life can teach you things.”
“Life can teach you many horrible things. Judging by the tension you’re wearing across your face every time that I see you, besides when my camera lens is on you, I’d say you know that fact all too well.” I remove one hand from my pocket and scrub my fingers over my slightly stubbled jaw, “And that is not a fact I’m too keen on.”
“See, you say things like that and I’m left wondering why? Why do you care about me? What’s in it for you?”
The hand that was on my chin falls to my side at the assessment of the situation. I need to give her something so she doesn’t run and never return. “What’s in it for me you ask? Would the answer of your presence be too forward?”
She crosses her arms over her chest in a protective gesture and furrows her brow a little. I’d be lying if I said that expression on her face wasn’t adorable.
“Too forward? Yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate that answer.”
“I’m going to be looking for a TA. It has a modest stipend attached. I’d like for you to consider the position.”
“Why? So you can have more power over me?”
“I can assure you, Nora, this has nothing to do with power. If it did, you’d be in complete control. Would you like to see the pictures, so you can see what I see? You can see for yourself I do not have ill intent.” Her bag slides off her shoulder, coming to rest on the chair next to the door. Even with her arms set in a clear defense, she’s curious as ever. She’s like a stray kitten who when they encounter a human who wants to offer them any sort of attention, they immediately distrust it. If there comes a next step, she needs to trust me implicitly. “You don’t have to, but I think it would help you understand.” I pull my phone from my desk drawer and open up the photo gallery, scrolling through until I see her face, her body, fill the screen, and then I offer the device to her. “Take it and have a look for yourself.”
For a moment, our hands meet over the phone. We both go from looking at the exchange to gazing at each other. I recognize her look as well as the one I know I’m giving her. We’re back in the nightclub, back in that hallway, back in each other’s arms.
“Nora,” I whisper so low I barely hear it myself.
“I know,” she says just as low as I did.
In a moment of brazen confidence, I step forward, closing the distance between us just a little, but it’s enough for me to feel the heat sizzling between our bodies.
“Nora…” I say again, in a warning? A plea? I’m not even sure myself.
“Tristan.”
My name is a lighter to a fuse, and I move even closer to her, this time, backing her flat against the wall by my very open office door.
With one hand on the wall behind her head, I use the other to push her hair behind her ear. I want to see her full, beautiful face.