The Professor Ep. 02

This morning...

There's something about the way silk feels across skin after a steamy shower. And there's something about the way rain hits a window pain in soft, gentle patters. And... there's something about the skin of a man you're not supposed to touch... that'll drive you wild.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I wanted you to."

I couldn't believe I'd said those words. I was the good girl of my friend group. I rarely drank before I was of age and never tried drugs. I came home in high school before curfew, and I'd only slept with a few guys and was selective at that--fearful I'd meet regret if not. But here and now, my life was taking a chaotic turn and I knew it.

With eyes eating me up, his gaze ignited a wanton desire I hadn't known. Students and Professors having any kind of physical or romantic involvement was strictly prohibited at my university regardless of age or department. It didn't matter that he was 28 and I 21. Or that we'd met previously. Or even that at the time of our meeting we'd had no idea we were both affiliated with the same institution.

None of it mattered because he was not allowed.

Not allowed. You can crush on him but HE'S NOT ALLOWED. I repeated that last line in my head until it didn't sound right anymore.

Like that habitual good girl I was, I broke the tension that held us and removed the obstacle first, "I have a class."

I rushed out before anything more could be said or lustful looks shared. That didn't stop the thinking of it, though, because my next class was torture. My "Anatomy" class was my least favorite and Professor Sloan--a bore. It made all the not thinking of Voss, fully impossible. So my mind wandered.

I pictured his hands around his beer the night we met. Those veiny, large-hands I dreamt would be warm and rough against my neck. I pictured all the ways they might hold me, pin me, touch me--if given the chance. And I dreamt of that chance.

But mostly, I pictured Voss's golden skin in that dimly lit pub. That perfect tan highlighting those deep blue eyes that never wavered. Then, my mind wandered to all the classes we'd shared where his gaze found mine in a crowded room of students listening to his lectures. I recalled the few times he'd spoken my name, and to the moment just before earlier, when his intensity enveloped me.

Suddenly, I felt weak. Thank god for the chair beneath my ass, because otherwise I'd be floor bound.

My distress must have been palpable because the classmate beside me leaned over to whisper, "You okay? Looking faint, Em."

I smiled, nodding at her and returned to my notes for the rest of class.

The day dragged on, and the longer it went, the more I began to regret rushing out. Despite it being the right decision. The smart one. I'd hated it. Anxiety, nerves, and frustration boiled in my chest like a cannon about to fire. When the last classes of the day ended, my impulse and curiosity eventually overruled my previous judgment and I did something I'd never thought I'd do.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, failing miserably at keeping calm. My palms began to sweat and I was dizzy, yet somehow my feet marched down that familiar hall to the room I'd attended twice a week for the last month. I peaked through the door's glass window. Students all gone home for the day, Voss too. I cracked the door, walking in to find his desk lamp on and the low, warm-light of a fresh spring evening streaming in through half-drawn curtains.

I jumped at the sound of a throat clearing. Voss stood inches behind me. He must have been on the other side of the door, hidden from view when I peered in.

"Forget something, Emma?"

Emma.

Professor Voss never referred to anyone with our first names. Doing so now when we were alone was like an invitation to something, but to what, I wasn't sure. Only that I was somehow special for it.

His posture was straight, tight, and his chest moved like he was hardly breathing. I wondered if he too, was nervous. Maybe even, surprised.

"No," I answered sheepishly. Suddenly, I felt faint. The adrenaline had worn off and the realization of how stupid I was being was setting in. That, with my irrevocable curiosity and budding desire made for an overwhelming burst of emotions.

Whatever the limit for my body was, I'd passed it. My vision blurred until all there was, was endless black. Briefly, I came to--sight spotty. Sound was dull under the his and hum of passing out, but I could swear I heard Voss say, "Don't worry, Emma. I've got you."

Maybe it was all a dream or hallucination. However, when I blacked out for good, I must have stayed that way for a long while because when I woke I knew two things.

I'd not dreamed of Voss carrying me, because he actually had.

And... I was somewhere unfamiliar, wrapped in sheets that weren't mine, and facing a bare back I'd stared at through clothes long enough to guess whose curves they belonged to. Even if those clothes had been ill-fitted, the color of that skin and the rich dark waves of that hair, was all too familiar.

This was Voss's bed.

End of Episode 2

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