I close my eyes, composing myself before I look up.
I should have kept my eyes closed.
He is dressed more professionally than I’ve seen him. Dark grey suit pants hug his hips, and his shirt is tight over his biceps. With sleeves rolled up, I can see the strength of his forearms. The veins that strain away from the muscle.
My body acts all on its own. I step toward him, reaching for his tie. I tug it, pulling his face towards mine.
“Wait.”
I jump back at his hesitation. Crossing my arms around my stomach, I squeeze my hands into my sides to hold them steady.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
Oliver steps past me to close the door. The click of a lock registers in my brain, and then the heat of his body behind me.
I spin to face him, but his hands hold my shoulders still.
“You are here to discuss your studies,” he whispers. The warmth of his words brushes over my pulse point, and I feel it in my core.
“Yes, professor.”
A groan escapes him, and his forehead drops to rest on the back of my head.
“Call me that later.” Pushing his body into mine, I can feel his erection against my back.
I hadn’t meant for my words to do that, but I can’t help myself from enjoying his reaction. Leaning back against him, I tilt my head to rest on his shoulder and stare up at him. My tongue darts out to lick my lip.
Oliver groans again but guides me off him and walks towards the desk.
“You have a scholarship, Madison. And I’m your advisor. Whatever else happens between us, that relationshiphasto stay professional. When we have these monthly meetings, your coursework comes first. Everything else comes after.”
He brushes a hand through his dark hair as he leans back in the chair.
We spend the next twenty minutes doing exactly what he asked. Discussing my coursework. He makes note of when my assignments are due, checks I have an appropriate study plan in place, and offers his advice on additional texts and references I should be using. Focusing on the paperwork is frustrating, but when he finally closes his laptop to look up at me my fingers tingle in anticipation.
“You seem to have a solid grasp on your coursework, let me know if you need any assistance with anything. You have my number.”
I take my time packing my notebooks and planner back into my tote, sliding them in one by one. When Oliver doesn’t say anything else, my shoulders droop and a hole opens in my chest. The realisation that I read too much into our situation starts to sting my eyes. I stare up at the ceiling, blinking away the tears that threaten to fall.
“About earlier,” my voice cracks, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Hands slam on the desk between us. Professor Fraser stands. He towers over me, and I shift my eyes to look at his face. His eyes are dark, pupils so large I can hardly see the rich brown of his irises. The fire reignites. And I know there is no extinguishing it.
“Nothing like that can ever happen on campus.”
I nod, biting my lip but holding his gaze.
“But you will call me professor again.” He pushes away from the desk.
I stand from the chair to take a step to unlock the door, pausing before I open it.
“When?”
“Not now.”
He stares at the tree outside his window. An arm stretches up to the window frame. His cock strains his pants, and he uses his other hand to adjust himself.
“Madison,” he pleas, “you need to leave before I decide to scrap my own rule and fuck you right over this desk.”
