Page 4 of The Professor's Indecent Obsession

“I mean it,” he says, his voice smooth as silk. “Your prose is stunning. The rawness. The rhythm. The way you builttension...” He pauses, lips curling just slightly. “You didn’t just write a fantasy. You crafted it. With detail. With feeling.”

My legs nearly give out.

My entire face is on fire. I can feel the blush blooming from my chest to my cheeks, all the way to the tips of my ears. I duck my head, mortified. There’s no hiding how red I am.

My throat tightens. I don’t know if I want to cry or crawl under a desk or kiss him senseless.

He taps his fingers gently on the closed notebook. “And I have to admit… you captured me perfectly.”

I force myself to meet his eyes and immediately regret it. They’re heavy with meaning. Intense. Devouring.

I stammer. “I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to read that.”

“I’m not sorry. Not in the least.”

I can’t breathe. My whole body is buzzing, and I’m torn between horror and disbelief and an almost painful swell of pride. The man who’s inspired everything I’ve written for the last year is complimenting me. Complimenting my writing.

And I swear to God, I’m getting lightheaded.

Roman shifts in his chair, the movement casual but magnetic. “Have you written anything else?” he asks, softer now. Curious.

I nod slowly. “I… I’ve written a novel.”

That earns me a spark of genuine interest. “What kind?”

“Dark academia. Romantic. A little tragic.” I swallow. “It’s about obsession. About two people who shouldn’t be together, but can’t stay away from each other.”

His eyes darken. “Sounds familiar.”

My breath hitches.

“I’d like to read it,” he adds, his voice low and certain. “If you’d let me.”

“I...” My voice breaks. “Okay. I mean… yes. I’d love that.”

“Good girl,” he says, and I swear I almost come on the spot.

The air between us shifts. Becoming denser. Warmer.

“Which of your fantasies is your favorite?” he asks, his gaze unwavering.

My eyes go wide. “What?”

“I’m curious,” he says, his voice dark and hungry now. “You wrote dozens. Some softer. Some not. Some with restraint. Some with none. So I’m wondering…” His gaze drops to my mouth. “Which one kept you up at night? Which one caused you to slide your hands into your panties and play with your wet little cunt?”

I want to melt into the floor. I’m starting to realize that the real Roman Thorne is much bolder than the version of him in my imagination. Much more filthy.

So much hotter.

“I... I don’t know. Ummm, I don’t really have a... have a favorite.”

He looks at me like he doesn’t believe a word of it. His gaze drags slowly down my body and back up again, heavy and knowing.

“You can tell me,” he says, voice dipping even lower, “and we can act it out right now. Or…” He tilts his head, his mouth curving into something darker. “I can pick one. Either way, it’s time for me to start making all your dreams come true.”

Chapter Three

Callie

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