Page 77 of Teacher's Pet

I stopped just in front of him. Even sitting, he looked up at me like he was six feet taller, a faint smile curving his mouth.

“Well, Ryan, you didn’t study. Your grade reflects that. Simple.”

I bit my lip, refusing to move. “Can I get extra credit… sir?”

The innocent note in my voice was deliberate. He grinned, dark, almost cruel, and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head.

The way his eyes slid down to my thighs sent a shiver down my spine. He would never have done this during real office hours.Hell, even when I was actually his student, he hated crossing that line in his office.

“Mmh… I don’t know,” he said, his voice low, his gaze sinking lower.

I swallowed. “May I sit down?”

He nodded toward the chair across from him. I sank into it, tugging my shirt up just enough to expose a strip of skin.

His eyes tracked the movement openly, lingering, unapologetic.

Finally, his stare met mine, but it felt invasive, like he was taking me in piece by piece, memorizing me.

“What kind of extra credit?” he asked, eyes flicking back to my legs like they were nothing more than something to gawk at.

I crossed them, dragging my skirt down a little. His gaze sharpened.

“Maybe… help grade?” I suggested.

He chuckled, the sound short and cutting.

“You think I need a pretty blonde airhead to help with that?”

The insult jolted through me, heat pooling low. I shook my head quickly, pressing my thighs together.

“No,” I whispered.

He stood, circling my chair slowly before stopping behind it.

“I can give you a better grade, Ryan. But you’ll have to earn it. Are you ready for that?”

I nodded without hesitation.

He didn’t move for a beat, then there was a soft clatter, the sound of a pen hitting the floor. It rolled across the room toward the door.

“Anything, Ryan? Anything at all?” he murmured, his voice sinking even lower. His hands settled on my shoulders, kneading lightly. The touch was barely there but enough to make me feel pinned, trapped under his control.

“Yes… sir.”

He removed his hands. “Fetch my pen. I dropped it.”

I gulped and started to stand, but he caught me and shoved me back into the chair before stepping around to the front again.

“Surely your pretty little head can figure out a way to get it without using your feet… right?”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

“Good. Fetch, Ryan.”

He caught a fistful of my hair, not harsh, but firm enough to guide me, and pushed me to the ground. My skirt flipped up in the process, revealing exactly what I wasn’t wearing underneath.

His shoe brushed my thigh, nudging the fabric higher.