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Oddly enough, I’d had the feeling he’d been standing outside my dorm room watching me, although every time I’d looked out the window, I’d seen nothing but cheerful students preparing to graduate or leave for the summer.
Shuddering, I finally finished dressing, moving a little too quickly. The ache remaining on my buttocks was real, so much so I’d been forced to sleep on my stomach.
But I had to fake it or Josie and Taylor would know something was wrong, grilling me to death until I confessed my sins.
And boy, did I have a lot of them.
For all the times we’d giggled over our raunchy fantasies, nothing could compare to what had actually occurred. If only I could slide into a box and stay there for a while.
I returned to the cup of coffee I’d been nursing, noticing a report on the news. I turned it up, curious as to why the reporter had such a gloomy face.
“And in breaking news, it appears the Angel of Death has struck again, this time ending the life of a graduating senior at the University of Chicago.”
Angel of Death. You couldn’t be an angel and kill someone at the same time. As I listened to the reporter, another shiver tore through me. Murders weren’t unusual, but the poor kid had had his throat slit in a bad part of town. Was the reporter actually serious about a serial killer striking again? I’d heard nothing about it, although watching the news wasn’t something I usually did.
I glanced at my watch, realizing I barely had enough time to make it across campus. I needed to get my butt—my aching butt—in gear.
Grabbing my bookbag and a bottle of water, I headed out the door, doing my best to stay focused and preventing another round of hyperventilating. That’s what had occurred the moment I’d slunk into my dorm room two nights before, furious with myself for enjoying the horrid event.
I waved to a couple of girls who noticed me but otherwise kept my head down as I took long strides. By the time I walked in, I was almost the last one to arrive. I dared not look at the man’s desk or toward him for fear I’d lose my nerve. And I certainly couldn’t blow my final. I needed to find another decent paying job, which had me completely befuddled at this point.
“There you are,” Josie hissed. “I tried calling you like six times. What happened?”
“Nothing. I was studying.”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “We don’t even know what Professor Saint wants. How could you study? We wanted you to go to a hot club with us last night.”
I glanced from one to the other, feeling another pulsing sensation as heat rose across my jaw. And I knew the reason why.
He’d found my location inside the oversized classroom. I didn’t need to be any closer to know he was staring straight at me.
Or that he appeared even more handsome than when I’d been up close and personal to him.
“I think she has a boyfriend,” Josie said in a slightly loud and far too singsong of a voice.
“I do not!” My retort was equally loud, which forced the professor to rap his knuckles on the desk.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Can we all settle down?” He barked the words out even more harshly than usual.
It still took a few minutes and I could swear the man never took his eyes off me.
I was obviously right when Taylor leaned over. “Is he staring at you?”
Shrugging, I had no clue what to say.
“Confess,” Josie whispered hoarsely.
Something told me I wasn’t getting out of telling them something. “I fucked up a job interview with him. Okay?” Once again, my exasperation was overheard, a couple of students laughing.
“Ladies. Is there something you’d like to share with the entire class?”
I could barely think of him as a professor any longer since we’d been… intimate. Easton sounded better to my mind, less forbidden.
“No, sir,” I said defiantly.
He kept his hard, cold stare on me before glancing around the room. “For the test this morning, you will need to write a three-thousand-word story. The subject? A dark fictional take on what it would feel like to be a serial killer.”
The majority of the class groaned, including Taylor and Josie. I was elated and would have been more so if I was better able to wrap my mind around the lust that continued to fester with a life of its own.
