Page 111 of Give In

I didn’t want things to return to how they’d been. I could deal with avoiding one another again. Actually, that would be the best option. But I couldn’t face his cold indifference. Even if I knew it was an act, his previous apathy would kill when I was already flayed open and vulnerable.

Steeling my spine, I hoped for the best but mentally prepped for the worst as I walked into the room and headed for my seat. Damien’s attention was on his desk as he shuffled around some papers. He didn’t lift his head, but I could feel his eyes on me. There was the slightest change in his body language, but since I didn’t want to get caught staring, I didn’t have time to figure out what it was.

How many times has he watched me without me knowing?

A sick thrill went through me, its path leading directly to my clit.

I took my seat, barely suppressing a hiss as my sore ass cheeks made contact with the unyielding plastic. Chancing a peek at Damien, I lost my breath.

His eyes were locked on me, a wicked smirk pulling at his lips as he watched my unmistakable discomfort.

I wonder if seeing me in pain made him hard?

The sick thrill became a visible shudder, goosebumps spreading along my suddenly overheated skin.

God, we’re dysfunctional.

Unable to look at him again, I got ready for class and hid my red face behind my laptop.

Brooks dropped his things next to me. “Hey.” When I looked his way, his smile faltered. “You feeling okay? You’re a little…” He gestured to his face.

“I thought I was late, so I hauled ass,” I lied.

He bought it, nodding in commiseration. “I cut it close and had to run through Shitstorm Hall,” he said, referring to the region at the far corner of the building that’d been under construction for as long as I’d been there.

The urban legends ranged from haunted to murder site, with a quick stop at teacher hook-up zone. I liked to think it was a simple case of asbestos-laced black mold, but I was just a realist like that.

Before I could say anything, Damien stood, drawing everyone’s attention.

I braced, but other than a sharp look, he didn’t say anything to me as he began his lesson.

For the most part, class was the same as always. He mostly ignored me. I mostly ignored everyone. The only switch-up was that he called on me to answer a question that didn’t include any baiting or taunting.

Class wrapped early and a sense of relief washed over me, loosening the tight knot between my shoulders.

Pulling my backpack onto my lap, I packed my laptop. When I looked up again, I was eyelevel to a crotch.

A familiar one.

I let my gaze linger longer than I should’ve before slowly moving it up.

His expression was blank. “I need to reschedule our IS meeting.”

We don’t have a meeting scheduled.

“Okay,” I said, confused.

Brooks stood when I did. “I’ve gotta run, otherwise I’ll be going through Shitstorm again. See you.”

I shot him a forced smile that I hoped didn’t broadcast the off the charts level of uncomfortableness I felt. “Bye.”

Brooks started for the door at the same time Damien returned to the front.

“Get down here,” he ordered.

“We don’t have a meeting this week,” I pointed out, not moving.

“Get down here,” he repeated.

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