Page 9

Chapter 8

Deirdre

“To while away, forbidden things! My heart would feel to be a crime unless it trembled with the strings.” Edgar Allan Poe

W e stand in silence in front of the fireplace. I cross my arms across my chest, as if that will make me feel less seen. My heart is thudding so hard in my chest, I am positive he can see it through the fabric of this black shirt. Kieran’s words still linger in the air between us.

He trusts me enough to tell me his darkest secrets, his pain. I need to give him something in return to show him that we’re on the same page.

“This is all so confusing. When I first saw you, I thought you were trouble. In fact, I would have put money on it.” I finally admit. “Part of me feels safe with you. Even though there is still a quiet voice inside me telling me to run for the hills.” In front of Kieran, I feel like an open book, where he could judge the darkest parts of me, but he doesn’t.

Kieran tugs my arms free and gently pulls me to him. Our bodies press firmly against each other. I rest my palms on his chest, and I can feel his heart pounding under my hands.

“And yet, you’re still standing in front of me,” he replies, his tone calm but with an edge of emotion that betrays his usual control.

I tilt my chin up, my eyes searching his. “Because I feel it, too,” I admit, my voice trembling. “Whatever is happening between us, I damn sure can’t explain it, but I don’t want to ignore it.”

Kieran’s hand brushes my bangs out of my eyes, and he lets his thumb glide down my cheek to my bottom lip, pressing down and opening my mouth. My breath quickens as his heated gaze stays locked on mine. His free hand slides up my back to the base of my neck as he lowers his face to mine. Stopping mere inches away, the intensity of his dominating presence makes my breath falter.

“Say that again,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with longing.

I swallow hard, my pulse racing. “I feel the same way,” I whisper. My words are barely audible, but they are enough for him.

Kieran pulls me even closer, our lips brushing against each other. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he breathes out, his voice filled with desire.

“Show me,” I beg, closing my eyes and waiting with anticipation.

And then I feel his warm lips crashing down against mine.

His kiss isn’t soft or tentative. Kieran’s kiss feels like he has something to prove. It is electric, a spark igniting a wildfire deep inside my stomach. His lips claim mine with a hunger that makes my knees weak. My hands dig into his shirt, fisting the fabric as if it will hold me up.His hands slide to my waist, pulling me closer as the kiss deepens, leaving no space between us. Parting my lips, I open myself up to him. He takes advantage of the invitation and slides his tongue across mine. A guttural groan escapes his throat. All the anticipation, the suppressed feelings, pour into our kiss, making it impossible to tell where I end and he begins.

When we finally pull apart, both gasping for breath, he rests his forehead against mine. “This is…insane,” I admit, as a quiet giggle escapes my lips.

“Maybe,” Kieran replies with a faint smile.

I back away slightly so I can look at him, tracing my fingers across his chest. His kiss awakened something inside of me, and I want to explore this new, playful feeling brewing inside of me.

Lifting an eyebrow, I tease, “So…do you expect me to be submissive?”

His laugh is soft, a rare sound that makes my chest bloom with warmth.

“I expect you to be exactly who you are,” he replies, cupping my face in his rough hands. “Do what feels right to you. That’s all I want from you.”

Still running my fingers lightly across him, I tease, “And what if what I want is for you to show me what you enjoy?”

Kieran’s expression grows serious, though his eyes sparkle with something deeper, desire maybe. “Then your first assignment, Miss Ravencroft, is to research. Like all good scholars do.”

Confused, I scrunch my face, furrowing my brows, “Research?”

He nods, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“Your boundaries. What intrigues you, what excites you, what you know you don’t want. Write it down, process it, and when you’re ready, we’ll go from there.”

This man really expects me to Google being a submissive?

The thought amuses me so much that I can’t stop myself from giggling.

My laughter surprises me, filling the space between us. “You really can’t stop being a professor, can you?”

Kieran shrugs, his hands squeezing my waist. “What can I say? I’m thorough. But this isn’t just about me leading or being in control. You have to know what you want, too. In reality, you’re the one with the most control.”

I don’t fully understand what he means by that last statement, but I have a feeling I am going to learn so much about not only this dynamic but myself. If I’m being honest, it fills me with a sense of giddiness and excitement that I haven’t felt in years.

Tilting my head, I study him for a moment before leaning in and brushing my lips against his once more. This time, the kiss is softer, slower, but no less intoxicating. Our lips and hands take their time exploring each other. When I pull back, I flash a grin at him.

“Fine,” I say, putting my hands on my hips. “I’ll do my homework. But don’t grade me too harshly.”

Kieran lets out another chuckle, a sound I am beginning to revel in hearing. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs, his voice soft but full of promises. “I am sure there will be extra credit.”

Looking at the clock, Kieran sighs. “It’s late. I need to get you back to your dorm.”

I try to hide the disappointment on my face as I follow him out the door. The risk to his career and my success at the university would be too great if I stayed the night with him.

The drive back to my dorm is quiet, the silence between Kieran and me a comfortable one now that we have both admitted our feelings. I keep my eyes focused on the views passing by the window as we drive. Being in Kieran’s home felt like a dream, but the black shirt I am still wearing that smells of him assures me I did not dream up tonight. What transpired between us was real.

When we pull up to my dorm, Kieran puts the car in park and turns to me, his face is illuminated in the glow of the dashboard lights. He reaches into the backseat behind him, pulling my now dry blouse from the backseat.

“Here,” he says, handing it to me.

I hold it up to inspect the damage. A faint pink stain remains where the wine spilled, just noticeable enough to warrant a trip to the dry cleaner. I frown slightly.

“Well, at least it’s not totally ruined,” I say, looking back at him.

I hope Claire doesn’t mind. I’ll just pay for the dry-cleaning bill.

“I did the best I could,” Kieran replies. His gaze lingers on mine for a moment too long, and I can feel the energy between us starting to build again.

I nod quickly, folding the blouse over my arm. “Thank you. For everything.”

Kieran’s jaw tightens, and for a fleeting second, I think he might say something more. His hands grip the steering wheel as if to steady himself or gain control against his carnal urges. He doesn’t have to say or do anything. I can see the desire in his eyes.

He wants to kiss me again. I know, because I want more than anything to feel his mouth on mine again.

But he doesn’t act on it. Instead, he clears his throat, breaking the tension. “You should head inside. It’s late.”

I hesitate, disappointment tugging at my chest, but I nod my head in agreement. “Right.” I open the door, stepping out into the cool night.

Before I can close it behind me, Kieran leans across the seat, his voice low. “Deirdre.”

I turn back to him, my heart skipping. “Yes?”

“Do your research,” he says, his tone full of authority. “Make sure this is what you truly want.”

My breath hitches, and I nod again. “I will.” I’m going to have health problems with the heart palpitations this man gives me.

That can’t be healthy, can it?

“Good night, Miss Ravencroft,” he says, his lips curling into a faint, almost devilish smile.

“Goodnight, Professor.”

I close the door and watch as his car disappears into the night before walking into the dorm.

The hallway is eerily quiet, except for the occasional creak of the old floors under my feet. Inside my room, I set Claire’s blouse on the back of my desk chair and pulled my phone from my purse.

A text notification lights up the screen.

Gabe: Hey, you okay? I told you to text me. Did you get home safe?

Amused by his big brother concern, I quickly type a reply.

Deirdre: Professor Broody was surprisingly a gentleman. Got home safe, thanks.

As I hit send, Claire stirs in her bed, groaning as she sits up and rubs her eyes.

“You’re just now getting home?” she asks groggily.

Dammit. I woke her up.

I freeze for a moment, then sigh. “Yeah, it took a while to dry your shirt.”

Claire perks up slightly, after she remembers what happened at the club.

The realization washes over her face.

“Wait, you went to his house ?” She looks at the clock on her desk, “Deirdre, it’s three a.m. My shirt doesn’t take that long to dry and now you’re sneaking back into the dorm in the middle of the night like a naughty schoolgirl. Spill.”

I shake my head, and shrug, trying to keep my voice calm so she can’t see right through me. “Nothing happened. We just talked for a while, and time got away from us.”

Even in the dark, I can see Claire’s expression. She almost looks offended that I am blatantly lying to her. Clearly not convinced, she urges on, “So, what’s he like? Is he just as grumpy when you get him alone or is he the ultimate romantic?”

I let out a huff, kicking off my shoes, and tossing my phone onto the bed. “Claire. You’re either delusional or still drunk. Go back to sleep. We have a long day of studying tomorrow.”

Claire grins knowingly but doesn't push further. I haven’t known her for long and even though I feel like I could trust her, I still am not going to divulge what happened between Kieran and me tonight.

“Fine, fine. But if you’re hiding something juicy, I expect a full report tomorrow.” She flops back onto her pillow and pulls the blanket over her head. Within minutes, I can tell by her breathing she is falling back into dreamland.

Keeping Kieran’s shirt on, I climb into my own bed and stare at the ceiling for a long time. The faint scent of his shirt still fills my nose, bringing me a sense of calm, and the feeling of his lips hungrily finding mine encompasses my thoughts. Heat grows between my legs, causing me to squirm under my blankets. I roll onto my side, attempting to find sleep, but I toss and turn most of the night until the rising sun peeks through the curtains of our dorm room.

While Claire is still peacefully sleeping, I quietly grab my laptop and begin researching the dominant/submissive dynamic. As I am reading and learning about different types of Doms, it makes me wonder what type Kieran is. I find an image of a couple that causes the ache between my legs to grow, and I know exactly what I want from Professor McDreamy.

I have just shut my laptop and got cozy under my blanket when Claire shakes my shoulder.

Just as I was dozing off.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” she chirps, way too cheerful for this hour, but she at least got a full night's sleep. I got five minutes.

I groan, burying my face into the pillow. “Claire, it’s Saturday.”

“And we have an analysis paper to finish. You’re the one who wanted to study, so up you go!” She yanks the comforter off me, leaving me shivering. “Come on. Breakfast is calling, and so is the library.”

Reluctantly, I sit up and rub my eyes, watching as Claire throws on an oversized hoodie and leggings.

“Let’s go. You can’t write brilliance on an empty stomach.”

Fifteen minutes later, we’re seated in the campus café, mugs of coffee steaming in front of us as we devour cheesy bacon-filled breakfast sandwiches. Claire chatters about Gabe and the Kappa Theta Nu initiation party next week. I nod along, half-listening. My mind keeps drifting to the night before.

After finishing breakfast, we make our way to the library. The sun is high in the sky, casting long shadows across the university courtyard, and the air is crisp and unusually chilly for September in New Haven. Claire walks beside me, scrolling through her phone and occasionally rattling off random facts about Poe that she’s found online.

“I don’t think Google is going to be a reputable source for this assignment, Chica.” I laugh.

“Yeah, we get to dive into some dusty old books.” She rolls her eyes as she slides her phone in her back pocket.

As we walk across the wet grass, I feel like I am being watched. Looking around, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Then out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of a tall, broad figure moving just beyond the line of trees at the edge of the courtyard near the gates.

My steps falter. I turn my head slightly, trying not to be obvious, and glance toward the direction he is standing. He moves with a familiarity that causes chills to erupt on my skin, his shoulders broad and his gait confident.

“Deirdre?” Claire’s voice snaps me back to reality. “You good? You have this weird look on your face.”

I nod quickly, “Yeah, sorry. Thought I saw someone I knew.”

Claire shrugs, oblivious, and continues her chatter.

But I can’t shake the eerie feeling bubbling inside my stomach. I trail behind her, my focus locked on the figure as he disappears behind a cluster of trees near the path to the library.

“Go ahead,” I tell Claire, waving her off. “I’ll catch up.”

“What? Why?” She furrows her brow.

“I just forgot something at the dorm. I’ll meet you in the library in a minute.”

Claire hesitates but finally sighs. “Fine. Don’t take forever, okay?”

I nod, and as she walks ahead, I cut across the courtyard, weaving between the brick paths and students scattered on benches. My boots click against the pavement as I approach the edge of the trees, my heart pounding harder with each step.

By the time I reach the spot where the figure disappeared, there’s nothing. Just the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant sounds of students laughing.

I turn in a slow circle, scanning the area. Nothing. No sign of anyone.

I try to shake the uneasy feeling away and make my way back toward the library, but my mind is racing. He looked so familiar.

Could it have been Trevor? Or just someone who looked similar?

Surely not.

I try to convince myself that there is no way he could know where I am. I do this all the time. Things start going well for me, and then I get paranoid and bolt. Not this time.

No more running.

Claire is waiting for me at the entrance to the library, her arms crossed. “You didn’t forget anything, did you?”

“No,” I admit quietly.

She studies me for a moment, her expression softening. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, though my voice lacks conviction. “I’m fine.”

As we are opening the glass doors, Kieran walks through, almost running straight into me. He’s dressed in a tailored charcoal coat with his scarf loosely wrapped around his neck.

He quickly sidesteps us, narrowly missing me. He nods at both of us as he passes. “Miss Ravencroft. Miss Thompson,” he acknowledges us, his deep voice cutting through the courtyard.

“Good morning, Professor McKnight,” Claire replies cheerfully, nudging me with her elbow.

His gaze lingers on me for a moment longer than necessary, and my breath catches. “Good morning, Professor,” I manage to say, my voice steadier than I feel.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Claire turns to me with a wide grin. “Deny it all you want, but there’s some serious heat between you two.”

“Claire, stop.”

“No, don’t even try to downplay it,” she interrupts. “That man practically undressed you with his eyes just now.”

I shake my head, feeling my cheeks flush. “You’re imagining things.”

“Sure I am. But when you’re ready to admit the obvious, let me know.”

I don’t respond, but my thoughts churn as we climb the steps to the library. If she only knew how right she was.

The library is unusually quiet for Saturday morning. Most students are likely sleeping off the effects of a Friday night out, leaving Claire and me plenty of space to spread out at one of the long oak tables. Piles of books surround us, but we’re barely making a dent in our analysis assignment.

Claire taps her pen against her notebook, her brow furrowing. “Okay, so explain to me why the Usher family was insane?”

I try to focus on the text in front of me, but her relentless tapping makes it impossible.

“The story alludes to a history of incest. And as a result of their isolation, they believed the house itself had a life of its own, which highlighted the family’s mental and physical spiral. It’s pretty straightforward.”

“Fascinating.” She drops her pen and sighs dramatically. “You know what else is fascinating? You.”

I glance up from my notebook, narrowing my eyes. “What are you talking about now?”

Claire leans forward, resting her chin on her hand.

“You. Your story. You’ve never told me anything about you. You’ve got this whole mysterious, guarded thing going on, and I want to know why.”

I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “We’re supposed to be studying, Claire.”

“We’ve been studying,” she counters, waving her hand at the books. “Now we’re taking a break. Spill it, Ravencroft.”

I sigh, knowing she’s not going to let this go. My fingers trace the edge of my notebook as I speak.

“Fine. My dad passed away a year ago from esophageal cancer that eventually spread to his lungs. I took care of him after I graduated high school, so I never got to go to college until after he passed. He made me promise to follow my dreams of being a journalist.” My voice wavers slightly, but I push through. “And my boyfriend, Trevor, wasn’t exactly supportive of my writing or storytelling. He was controlling, manipulative, and abusive. He had to know where I was at all times, and who I was with.”

Anger flashes across Claire’s face, “Why would you stay? Why didn’t you turn him in?” Her voice grows louder.

“Shhh. Keep it down,” I whisper, looking around. “The night I came home with my third busted lip is when my dad finally threatened to turn him in unless I left. I was never strong enough to turn him in, mainly because his dad was the chief of police. Who would believe me?”

Claire’s expression softens, and for once, she doesn’t have a quick or witty reply. “Deirdre, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

I shrug, trying to shake off the heaviness in the air. “It’s in the past. I left him, and I’m here now. Can we change the subject? Please ?”

Claire is silent for a moment before a mischievous glint returns to her eye.

“Hear me out,” she says, leaning on the table. “I know you keep denying there’s something between you and Professor McDreamy, but what would it hurt to have a little fun?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” I reply, lowering my voice even more. “Maybe the fact that I could get kicked out of Cornelia. He could get fired and lose any chance of working at another reputable university?”

Claire waves me off. “You’re both consenting adults. It’s not like you’re in high school. And it’s so obvious he’s into you.”

I shake my head, trying to focus on my notes. “It’s not that simple, Claire.”

She grins, undeterred. “Nothing worth having ever is, Deirdre. Just saying.”

“That was so cheesy.” I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. Leave it to Claire to turn a serious moment into matchmaking.