Alexis smiled. “How about you meet me at the Olive?”
I nodded and found myself staring at where Professor Baldwin was seated. My heart jumped into my throat as I noticed him studying me, his gaze concentrated, as if he demanded me.
“The Olive. Six. Sounds good,” I muttered those words, and when I looked back at Alexis, I could see a curious expression on her face. But she didn’t probe for more information.
And I was happy for that since I didn’t know how I would explain my infatuation with Professor Baldwin.
I should’ve been more discrete, disguising my devotion, my obsession for Grace. But I couldn’t help myself, definitely not when she was so close.
She was this addiction I had, one that made my heart race, my mouth dry, and my hands shake. A withdrawal that I didn’t know if I’d endure, because I knew the only remedy for it was her.
I watched as she left the library, happy when she continued peeking across at me. She kept biting her lip, pulling at the red, plump flesh with her straight small white teeth.
It’s a good thing I was seated behind the desk because my cock was harder than a rock, pressing against the zipper of my jeans, screaming to be free.
The disgusting things I thought of doing to her had me feeling primal, wild. She was so innocent, though, so fragile.
But her innocence simply stoked my hunger for her, had me desiring her even more.
I wanted to be the one to corrupt her, to show her just how fantastic it might feel, how good I could make her feel.
And I would make that a reality, since the alternative wasn’t an option.
I made a latte, poured it into a to-go cup, put the lid on top, and gave it off.
Monotonous actions that swallowed up the time and had me earning minimal wage.
If I were being honest, I loathed brewing coffee; hell, I didn’t even drink it. But being a college student meant I couldn’t be picky on what job I obtained. I didn’t have a lot of time for anything else, not with my full-time studies.
Although I was covered with student housing and money my parents had saved up for me over the years, I still had to make money. Maybe not to live off of while school, but for my own integrity and mental well-being.
So, I worked at the coffee shop on campus a couple days a week, making cappuccinos and lattes and wrapping up croissants and egg sandwiches. I rung up the customer, delivered them their double-shot espresso, and helped the next one.
The same thing, only a new day.
The coffee shop on campus was consistently busy, especially with students coming in to hang out and study as they sipped their five-dollar coffees and ate their three-dollar pastries.
“What can I make for you?” I said and looked up from the register only to feel my eyes widen as Professor Baldwin stood on the other side of the counter.
He wore a dark blazer and underneath that, a white Oxford button-down shirt, which was a sharp, stark contrast to his jacket. Being so close to him really accentuated how much bigger he was than me, with his broad shoulders and tight waist.
He was tall and slender, like an Olympic swimmer, raw force below golden skin.
I peered into his black eyes, like chunks of coal that could ignite a fire… and I was the one who would burn alive from it.
I stood there for many seconds not speaking, and it was only when I heard the froth from the cappuccino machine start to operate that I jerked out of my stupor. “Professor Baldwin,” I eventually murmured, finding my voice, although it was wobbly, unstable.
“Miss Hart.”
I swore fireworks went off inside of me.
“How’s your paper coming along?”
I licked my lips and nodded. “Good.” Although that was a lie. I hadn’t even started it.
He grinned, just the corner of his mouth curving up as if he knew I was lying. “Good. I look forward to reading it.”
I offered him an uneasy smile. I could feel how uncomfortable it was, my own nerves making me act like a crazy right now. “What can I get for you?” Being professional when all I wanted to do was wrap my body around his, was like living in literal hell.
