The Professor

The Professor

CLAIRE

I was going to fail.

Again.

Every fucking assignment was harder than the last, and I was tired of it.

Do well, improve on your sister’s grades. She is doing so well…you~ will be there soon, too~.

Fuck off!

Society’s expectations were draining me. Don’t get me wrong; I’m clever. Top of my class kinda clever, but I’m not on my genius sister’s level, oh no.

She was a high profile lawyer, married to a judge. They lived in an upscale part of town, and they had two perfect children, thank you very much.

Hey, guess what? I didn’t give a shit.

Except, it was worth the effort to do well.

My parents had promised me everything if I succeeded in passing my degree with flying colors—a swanky apartment in the city, any car I wanted, an allowance until I was taken on full time.

They were rich, high flyers like my sister. Dad was a partner in a plushy law firm, Mother a socialite. Not that I wanted their money, but why not take it?

I had the mental capacity to do well, too, so I suppose they were just encouraging what was natural.

So, I was sitting here, listening to my professor drone on and on about things I couldn’t care less about. I found my eyes drifting to the window as I tried not to yawn, having been kept awake into the early hours by my boyfriend.

“Miss Sharpe. Can you enlighten us on your view on which statement is most likely appropriate as a response to the question?”

I looked up to see the blue eyes of my professor glaring at me over the thick, dark frames he wore. If only he weren’t so fucking miserable, he might have been deemed a potential distraction with which to pass the time.

I cleared my throat and smiled, which only made his eyes narrow further.

“I would say there are doubts about the conclusive nature of studies on animals. So…C.”

He lifted an eyebrow, before challenging me further.

“On what basis?”

I glanced around the room to see if people were taking an interest in him making a point of me being his scapegoat, and I tried not to respond too sarcastically.

“On the data presented to us in the past… If the government was to act before the study can be proven conclusively, it would lose credibility. Sir.”

He was annoyed that I was right, but having grown up in a household including my sister and father, I couldn’t have helped but learn how to argue and debate successfully.

The professor dragged his eyes away from me, but not before he handed out our grades from our previous assignment. I’d worked particularly hard on that one, despite not having any passion whatsoever for the subject.

He slammed mine down upon my desk, before moving past me with a strange smile on his face. I turned the sheet over quickly, preparing myself for a B grade or thereabouts, when I saw a big, fat, red D staring angrily up at me.

I blinked in surprise, glancing around as I took in my peers’ little whoops and high fives. Even Jonathan Bewley was happy, and he was a fucking idiot if I’d ever known one.

A fucking D?

This couldn’t be right.

“Sir…,” I began, holding up my hand as the bell started to ring. He ignored me as my classmates gathered their things, rushing off to the next class like their lives depended on it.

This university was not like others; you woke up early, you showed up early, and you worked your ass off. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t make it.

Welcome to Law.

“Sir,” I repeated, pushing my way to his desk as I finally noticed his gaze dart toward me in irritation.

“Yes, Claire?”

“I think there’s been a mistake… I’ve been given a D?”

I held my page up as he continued to shuffle papers on his desk, until his eyes finally met mine.

He exhaled. “There’s no mistake. Your work was abysmal.”

He stared at me for a moment, and a bitter laugh broke forth from my mouth. “Sorry, did you just say…?”

“Abysmal. Catastrophic. Embarrassing. Shit!”

I blinked, stunned. Did he just say…

“Anything else?”

I was floored. This professor couldn’t have been older than thirty-five, yet he was speaking to me the way you would to a child. Except I was not a child. I was twenty.

“Are you fucking joking me?”

The words were out before I could stop them, and he leaned back in his chair; hands crossed over his chest, he smiled frostily at me.

“Such a dirty mouth. No, Claire, I’m not joking you. Could you not rephrase that in a more eloquent manner? Or are you also failing your native language?”

I was unable to respond, as he glanced again at the papers on his desk. I tried to move but my feet seemed stuck to the ground, probably due to my determination to wait until I’d argued my way to at least an A.

“I am challenging your method of marking. I want someone else to mark it… You are clearly biased.”

He stood up then, and walked around the desk to stand in front of me. He removed his glasses and slowly blew his hot breath onto them.

Then suddenly he reached forward and tugged my shirt out of my skirt, using a corner to clean his spectacle lenses. In doing so he pulled me closer to him, and I could feel my nipples harden instantly. What the…

“I’m not biased. You can do better. No one else will mark it, so if you want a better grade you need to impress me further.”

He tucked my shirt back into my skirt, his fingers touching my bare skin, which sent an unexpected shiver through me.

“Impress you? I wrote that very well. I couldn’t have argued my point any better. In fact I challenge you to show me a better piece of work.”

He stepped closer, and my heart started thudding against my ribcage as he gazed at me. I was truly unsure what he was going to do.

He spoke softly, his mouth close to my ear. “Listen, Claire. I’m bored of this conversation. So take your D, and leave. Or…”

I bit my lip as he sighed, watching me in annoyance.

“Or what? I need to pass this,” I whined, while he crossed his arms again.

I was aware he was well built beneath his shirt, and unconsciously I was following the line of hairs on his arms under the fabric of his cuff, when he waved at me.

“Have you finished checking me out? It’s highly inappropriate you know… I am your superior.”

For once I was stumped for an answer. Of course I found him attractive, everyone did. But he was an ass, a miserable, boring, argumentative dickhead who was out to make my life hell.

“I was not…”

“Yes you were. You were checking me out.”

I felt my cheeks flush beneath his gaze, as he raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you leaving, or are you going to attempt to change your grade?”

I was not sure I’d heard him right, and I shook my head in confusion. “You want me to argue my way to an A?”

He laughed a deep chuckle as he loosened his tie, his fingers tugging it down slightly while he opened the top buttons on his shirt.

“Is that what you want, an A?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” I snapped back, as he began to walk toward me, his eyes on the door behind me the whole time.

“I’ll give you an A. But what are you going to do to earn it?”

His voice was now a whisper in my ear, and I almost fell back in surprise. Was he propositioning me?

Surely not…

“Claire, I haven’t got all day.”

He was so close now that I could smell his aftershave, mixed with the scent of fresh laundry and a hint of peppermint. God, he smelt good!

“Sir, I’m confused… What exactly are you asking me?”

He smiled then, still walking toward me, his body inches away from mine.

“You want an A, right? I can give you the A,” he smirked suddenly, and I realized what he was referring to. His gaze traveled from my neck down to my chest, which was rising and falling rapidly under his intense scrutiny.

“But are you going to give me what I want?”

I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze, knowing he could get into serious trouble for what he seemed to be suggesting.

“W-what…what d-do you…w-want?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes moved over my body slowly, as he leaned close to my ear. I started to panic, afraid he might hear my pounding heart, whereas all I could hear was the blood roaring in my ears.

“You.”

Instinctively I averted my head; his lips were inches from mine as I backpedaled, almost falling against a desk.

He stopped walking, and simply rubbed his chin ruminatively, glancing at the open door.

“That’s…blackmail,” I murmured, my eyes now taking in his broad chest and tight trousers. My god, I already knew what he was going to say.

“Yes, I suppose it is. But you want to do it anyway, and so do I. We may as well call it a deal, because otherwise our social circles will never cross. I fuck you here, now, and you get your A. It’s entirely your decision.”

He walked over to the door, closing it noiselessly and then pulling the blind down. He didn’t lock the door, but turned to me as I straightened up, my legs shaking.

“I’m not a predator, Claire. You’re a beautiful young woman, and I want you. I also want you to do well in life, so luckily I feel we can strike a bargain. If not, take the D and I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

He shrugged, stepping aside as I licked my lips, my fingers sliding up my skirt as he watched me with a devilish expression on his face.

I slid my underwear down, my fingers quivering as the panties fell to the floor around my boots. He looked meaningly at me now, before walking to the door and locking it. Then he hit the lights, and we were in semi darkness.

I was so wet it was absurd, but that was nothing compared to when he walked over to me. He lifted me effortlessly onto the desk, tugging his zipper down as I started to protest.

“You need to wear a condom…”

He shook his head and kissed me roughly. Before I knew it, his tongue was in my mouth. His fingers twisted my nipples through my bra, and I whimpered with pleasure.

“No condom. I want to be in you.”