Page 22

Nic

“Go lock the door.”

My heart drops to my stomach.

“Why?”

“Now, Nicole.” The command is barely above a whisper, but its weight is undeniable.

My legs move without permission, and a wave of panic flares in my chest as I find myself at the door.

I don’t want this. So why can’t I pull the door open and leave?

My fingers tremble on the lock. I should leave.

Instead, I twist the lock, sealing myself in.

I am so going to hate myself for this.

“You’re an ass,” I whisper as my fingers linger on the lock like it’s my last lifeline.

I’m too mortified by what I just did to face him. But I don’t need to because, a second later, his chest presses against my back, a wall of heat and muscle caging me in.

His delicious grass-after-rain scent coils around me, seeping into my skin.

I clamp my teeth together and swallow the stupid, reckless sound threatening to break free from my throat.

His hands find my waist. I try to jerk away, but I’m trapped between the door and his hard body.

Then he deftly spins me around and presses my back against the door. His hands slide lower to cup my ass, his fingers digging in like he owns it.

“I missed you.” His rough admission hits like a gut punch.

I curl my hands into fists and flash a mocking smile. “What, am I overdue for another mind fuck, Professor? Is that what this is about?”

He doesn’t bite. Instead, slides one hand into my hair and tugs just enough to force my gaze to his. I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to give him what he wants.

“Tell me what the matter is, Nicole,” he whispers.

“Don’t act like you care. Just say your piece and let me go.”

Kai’s grip on my nape tightens, a delicious bite that sends a jolt of heat through me. “Alright. You look like you haven’t slept in days. You’re cranky as hell and snapping like a damn turtle. Yet every inch of you . . .” His hand leaves my ass to skim up my side, and higher, until he finally cups my jaw, “. . . is screaming for relief. For me.”

I hate how bold . . . how cocky . . . how right he is.

“Whatever you need to believe, sir,” I snark.

With a rough exhale, he releases his grip on me and steps back. “Go over to the desk, take off your shoes, and bend over.”

I blink my eyes open. “What?”

“You heard me.” He shrugs off his blazer and folds it neatly. Like this is the most normal conversation in the world.

Heat pools low in my belly as I watch him pull up the sleeves of his turtleneck to reveal inked, corded forearms. “I’m going to teach you something.”

“Teach me—” I choke on a humorless laugh. “No, thank you. I’ll pass.”

He takes a step closer. “Ask me for what you need, then.”

My mouth twists in derision. “I don’t need anything from you. Not a fucking thing.”

He smirks. “My point exactly. You don’t know how to ask. And that’s okay, I’ll teach you.”

Before I can ask what exactly he means, his hands guide me forward, stopping only when we get to the edge of his desk. He shoots a pointed glance at my sneakers and I instantly toe them off without thinking.

“Unbelievable,” I mutter more in shock at the way I obeyed his wordless command.

“For you, it is. Go on.” He gestures at the gleaming oak desk

Heat rushes to my face. I should fight this. He can’t just expect me to bend over and let him fuck me whenever the mood strikes him.

A large palm presses between my shoulder blades, grounding me. And urging me down, not stopping until my cheek rests on the cool, smooth surface.

His other hand slides around my waist, his fingers finding the button of my jeans. I suck in a sharp breath at the feel of those callused fingers against my stomach.

Slowly, he peels my jeans down my hips, over my ass, and off my legs. Cool air kisses my exposed skin, colder still between my thighs because I’m already wet.

His palm strokes the curve of my ass over and over again until a thready moan makes it past my gritted teeth. I’ve always been self-conscious about my disproportionately curvy ass—no matter how many diet fads Mrs. Aldridge helpfully suggested, nothing changed.

But the low, satisfied sound rumbling from his chest and the way his fingers dig into it feels almost . . . reverent.

Until his palm comes down hard, the sound cracking through the quiet room like a gunshot.

“Ahh!” I jerk forward, a choked gasp tearing from my throat. The sting flares hot, then fades into a low, molten burn. “What the fuck?”

Another slap—harder this time.

Tears spring to my eyes, my body locked somewhere between fight and surrender.

“Kai!” My voice breaks.

His palm glides over my burning skin, a soothing counterpoint to the sharpness of the blows.

“Tell me to stop, and I will. Otherwise, you’ll repeat these words after me.”

I grit my teeth, nails digging into the smooth wood of the desk. “Repeat. . . are you insane?”

Kai chuckles. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Another crack of his palm. This one burns even hotter.

“Fuck!” The word rips from me, half fury, half something I refuse to name.

“When I need something,” he begins, his tone as measured as if he’s reading off lecture notes.

“Bite me.” I lock my jaw, refusing to give in.

He laughs darkly.

The next blow has me arching off the desk, my core rippling in shameless response.

My tongue loosens and I whisper, “When I—”

“Ahh!” I slam my own palm against the desk. “I was saying it, jackass!”

His hand glides over my stinging skin. “Say it louder.”

“When I need something,” I grit out, the contrast between pain and pleasure making me dizzy.

“That’s better.” He murmurs, then delivers another blow. The force drags another cry from my lips. “I’ll ask you,” he finishes.

I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow hard. This is crazy—

Smack!

“I’ll ask—you!” I scream.

His hand strokes over me again. “Again,” his voice is all silk and sin now.

“When I need something, I’ll ask you,” I sob.

“Good girl,” he praises, his gravelly voice numbing something painful inside me.

Just when I think I’ve earned a reprieve, his tone hardens.

“Keep going. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

The next blows are softer—more a claim than a punishment.

My sobs blur into moans, my tears pooling on the desk. And the weight of the past two weeks cracks open, letting out all the pressure.

The burden of my dad’s illness.

My guilt about Bea’s future college plans.

The Jenna Anderson saga.

And this. This impossible, arrogant, hateful man who sees right through me. Who just won’t let me be.

“Now.” Kai’s fingers graze my tingling skin. “Let’s try that again—with my handprint on your gorgeous ass. What do you need, Nicole?”

I swallow. What do I need?

Everything. And nothing. My lips part, but the words won’t come.

Kai bends over me, his arm snaking around my waist. He lifts me up, dragging my back against his chest.

“Tell me what you need, Nicole,” he whispers against my ear. “I swear I’ll give it to you. Or die trying.”

A fresh wave of tears burns my eyes. “I don’t . . . I don’t know.”

“Then let’s start small.” His fingers brush my damp cheek. “Are you angry?”

“Yes.”

He gathers my hair off my nape and presses an open-mouthed kiss to my skin.

“Are you hurting?”

“Yes.”

Another kiss.

“Do you feel better now than when you walked in here?”

I hesitate, my throat closing around the truth—but I can’t lie. Not with his hands on me, his voice stripping me down to nothing.

“Yes.”

“Good.” His arms tighten around me, like he’s absorbing my confession. When he tilts my face to meet his, I expect a smirk. Not flared nostrils and widely blown pupils.

Kai’s just as wrecked as I am.

His voice softens. “What else do you feel, Nicole?”

I shut my eyes, and the confession claws its way out before I can stop it. “Like I’m drowning.”

He grunts softly. “Look at me,” he commands. He fists my hair, tilting my head back. “You won’t drown. Not with me.”

Something in his tone shatters the last of my defenses. A sob rips from my throat, and he turns me around and cradles me against his chest, his arms like hot steel bands closing around me.

He’s hugging me. For the first time in forever, I let myself fall into someone else’s strength.

“My dad has Parkinson’s.” My whisper is muffled against his chest. “He’s getting worse. He can’t even open his pill packs anymore. And Bea—”

My voice cracks as fresh tears spill over. “My sister might not go to the college of her dreams because I broke up with Theo. A-And the whole damn town is whispering about it, calling me ungrateful. Saying I’ve thrown everything away after all the Aldridges have done for me.”

Because my face is hidden, it’s easier to keep going.

“They paid for my surgeries and my dad’s treatments.” My fingers twist in my shirt. “His parents practically raised me, and now, I don’t know how to face them. Not after I threw their son away.”

My voice wavers, thick with shame, but I can’t make myself stop now. “A—And there’s a sex tape. . . of Theo with another girl that’s still making the rounds on campus.

A deep slow inhale is Kai’s only reaction.

“And the kids . . . the only thing that made sense in all of this . . .” My fingers dig into Kai’s chest, needing his solid warmth to ground me for this last part. “The moms are pulling kids out of the club because I’m a mess and a horrible teacher.”

My words dissolve into wracking sobs. I clutch at him, desperate, unable to finish.

Kai does something I don’t expect—something that makes my breath hitch for an entirely different reason. He swings me up into his arms. I barely register the couch until I’m curled in his lap, my face pressed into his neck, his fingers combing through my hair like he’s giving me permission to fall apart completely, if that’s what I need.

I do.

I break again.

The sobs rip through me, ugly and raw. My nose runs like a faucet, my breath hitching with every wave of emotion that crashes over me.

It’s messy. Undignified. Cathartic as hell.

And the whole time, Kai just holds me, stroking my back, murmuring “I’ve got you” like it’s a vow. Like he knows exactly how much I need to hear it.

When the sobs finally taper off, I feel lighter—emptied out.

“Better?” he asks.

I nod, too spent to speak, even as heat coils low in my stomach. Not in a million years would I have guessed this—being held down and stripped bare by the one man I hate—is exactly what I need.

“Why are you doing this, Kai?”

He studies me like the answer should be obvious. “Because you need it.” His thumb brushes my cheek, “And because I don’t trust anyone else to, nor would I ever let them do it to you.”