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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

TATUM

Highland University

Twelve Years Ago

These assholes thought I was bluffing when I came back to campus, but they were wrong. See if I care about spending Christmas away from all their bullshit.

Mom will pick me. She will. She just needs a few days to come to her senses, and then she’ll be begging me to come back. They’re going to learn their place.

I jog across campus, bag in hand, and head for my dorm. I could’ve easily stayed at my parents’ house while attending Highland, but I wanted the full college experience. I didn’t want my mom breathing down my neck about every little thing. Besides, I wanted my foster brothers close by. I wanted to make sure they knew they were never going to escape me, not really.

When I spot her walking across campus, her arms are loaded with books, her dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail. I have the sudden urge to wrap it around my fist and tug. The idea warms something deep in my stomach, and I jog after her, keeping back a fair distance until I can tell where she’s going.

I watch her slip into her office, warmth and possibilities spreading through me. Once she’s inside, I step in and shut the door behind me.

She spins around at the sound, obviously startled to see me. Her eyes flash wide, then shoot to the door as she takes a step back. “Mr. Thompson, I don’t have office hours until after break. You’ll have to come back.”

“I’m not here for office hours,” I say, stalking toward her. “I’m here for you.” I step forward until we’re just inches apart and reach my hand out, twirling a piece of loose hair near her ear around my finger.

She jerks back, swatting my hand away. “Excuse me? That’s completely inappropriate. Do not touch me.”

I lower my face to her ear, my breath tickling her skin, and she freezes. “I like it when you’re feisty.”

Snapping back to reality, she steps away again, huffing a breath. “As I said, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”

“Aww, come on, now. I’ve seen you naked. Don’t you think we should even the score? It’s only fair.”

Her pretty cheeks flush pink, and she scowls at me. “Please, go, Mr. Thompson. This is inappropriate. I’ll have to report it to the dean if you don’t leave.”

“I specialize in inappropriate, Professor. Haven’t you heard?” I wiggle my brows at her, then turn and lean over her desk, blocking her in. “The dean is away for the break. Would you rather spank me instead? I like a little corporal punishment now and then. Just like I like when you call me Mr. Thompson.” One corner of my lips tugs upward. “So formal. I’d like it even more if you were on your knees.”

I see the fear flash in her eyes then, and it awakens something primal in me. I stand up straight again as she steps back, and I follow, pinning her between the desk and me. “This is inappropriate. You should leave.”

“I will eventually,” I promise, leaning in to kiss her mouth. “But not until I get to taste you.”

She pulls back again, jerks back really, both hands on my chest. “Tatum, stop. ” Her voice is firm, and it just turns me on more. She really thinks she’s going to control me. It’s sort of hot. I lean in and bite her neck. When she squeals, all the blood in my body shoots straight to my dick.

“Please go,” she whispers, a hand lifting to the place on her neck that is now marred by an imprint of my teeth.

“I’m not finished yet.”

“What do you want?” Her wide eyes meet mine. “He’s your friend. Please don’t do this.”

“We’re all alone, Professor.” I lick my lips. “No one has to know.”

“I would know.” She tries to slip away from me, to duck around me, but I catch her wrist, spinning her until her back slams into my chest. I rake a hand down her side, gripping her hip.

“Don’t make me beg for it, Professor. I don’t mind chasing what I want.”

“Tatum, stop,” she cries, pulling away, but I lock my hand around her wrist, the other on her hip even tighter. She can’t move. “Stop or I’ll scream.”

“Scream, and I’ll give you something to scream about.” I spin her away from me and shove her into the wall, my body pressed to hers. Her scent is citrusy and fresh, and it consumes my thoughts. I close my eyes and inhale it, wondering what she must smell like everywhere. “We both know you want me. Why are we wasting our time?”

She doesn’t say anything, just glares at me.

“On your knees,” I order, tilting her chin up.

Her nostrils flare. “In your dreams.”

“What would you know about my dreams, Professor?” I tease, licking along her jawbone. “On your knees, or I’ll tell everyone you’re sleeping with your students.”

She holds eye contact, refusing to look afraid, though we can both feel her trembling. “So tell everyone. He’s not my student, and we both know it.”

“Then I’ll send the whole school the photos you sent him.” That stops her. She wavers, her eyes searching mine as I click my tongue. “You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?”

“You’re lying. Matteo would never show you those.”

I bounce my head from side to side. “Eh, show me…leave his phone around so I could find them and send them to myself…what’s the difference, really?” I pull my phone from my pocket, flipping through the photos I stole so she knows I’m not bluffing. “You do what I say, I’ll delete them. If you don’t, I’m happy to send them to everyone I know, your boss included. It’s a shame to deprive them of the fun, really. These pictures have certainly provided me with”—my eyes flick up to meet hers—“hours of entertainment.”

She swallows, and I catch the glint of tears in her eyes. When the first one falls, I lean forward and lick its path back up her cheek. This time, she doesn’t move. She’s as still as a stone.

I’m so hard it hurts, but I’m patient. I have to be. She wavers at the threat, I see it in her eyes, but eventually, her steely gaze returns. “Send them, then. It’s illegal. If you want to go to jail, be my guest.”

I smirk. “And if I tell them you asked me to send them? That you like messing around with students, and you wanted everyone to have them? I think we all know who they’ll believe.”

She locks her jaw. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

I sigh. “Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. I’m not opposed to the hard way, but I think you’ll find the easy way much more appealing.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Tatum. No matter what you say or do or how you threaten me. I’m with Matteo. I love Matteo.”

I shrug one shoulder. “You can still be with Matteo. I don’t want a wife, Professor. Just a good time.” My hand lifts to her head, and I stroke that same piece of loose hair near her ear, wrapping the strand around my finger once more. Normally, girls look like shit when they wear their hair up, but somehow she manages to pull it off with flying colors.

“I’m sure there are plenty of other girls on campus who can help you out with that.” She tries to slip away again, and I let her think she’s going to, then grab her at the last second and shove her into the wall with more force than necessary. She cries out from the blow of it, and I press myself into her back, using the other hand to slide down her leg and lift the hem of her dress. Her skin is on fire as my fingers skate across it. When I reach the fabric of her underwear, I close my eyes and inhale the scent of her hair.

“I don’t want other girls. I want you.”

She struggles, but I don’t give in. Her strength is no match for mine. I pull her back from the wall, tugging the front of her dress down, and snap a photo before she realizes what’s happened. In it, we’re both staring at the camera, her breasts entirely exposed. If you didn’t know better, you might think we were a couple.

How fucking sweet.

She struggles to tug her dress back up, to cover herself with her one free hand, and I click my tongue. “I guess I could just send this to Matteo instead. Break his wittle heart.” I pucker out my bottom lip.

That causes her to go still as she turns to look at me. I drop her wrist, waiting.

“You and I both know he’d believe me if I said you came onto me,” she says, bluffing. “If I said you assaulted me.”

I scoff, looking away. “Like hell. Have you seen me? I don’t need to assault anyone. Girls come to me.” I step forward again, slipping my leg in between her thighs as I lower my voice. “They beg for me.”

“He loves me.” She swallows. “This will break him. Please don’t do this. He’s your friend.”

“You’re my friend,” I mutter into her hair. She smells like absolute heaven. I nip at her ear, tracing the outside with my tongue. She shivers, sucking in a breath. I’m done waiting. “So be friendly.” I shove her to the ground, and her knees hit the tile with a sharp smack. She cries out but doesn’t give me the satisfaction of making more of a sound than she has to.

“No,” she says, shaking her head.

“I’m not asking anymore.” I unzip my pants and shove myself in her face, snapping a few more pictures with my phone. She realizes what I’ve done but is too slow to move. When her eyes meet mine, we both know I’ve won.

Her chin quivers as she locks eyes with mine, silently pleading.

“Do it, or I’ll ruin his fucking life.”

She swallows, her perfect little eyes meeting mine. “Please, Tatum.”

I grab hold of her throat, squeezing until she can’t take a breath. “Beg me again, ask me to stop again, and I’ll bend you over this desk instead. And I promise I’m not as much of a gentleman as Matteo. This is the easy way. So make your choice.” I release her neck, and she sucks in a deep breath.

She closes her eyes, a tear streaming down her cheek, and then she takes me in her hand and leans in, mouth open wide.

Fucking heaven.