Page 85 of Unapologetic Obsession
The office lookedlike a hurricane had hit it. The rug was strewn in my effort to get away from Professor Maxwell. There was a broken incubator on the floor. At some point during our battle, one of us had kicked the coffee table, and the papers on the table were now scattered on the floor.
Everything was in disarray.
The scene paled in comparison to the tornado raging inside me. I was battered and broken.
Peeling myself off the ground, I rested my back against his desk and wrapped my arms around my chest. I glanced at Professor Maxwell on the rug. His hand was over his eyes as if needing a minute to recover. It was the first time I had seen him vulnerable. It was also the perfect time to escape, but I couldn’t leave. My knee-length skirt was in tatters and hiked to my waist. The buttons of my white shirt were torn, with my bra on full display. I couldn’t go out in front of his staff like this.
What kind of sick joke had the universe played on me?
After years of pining for a man, I mistook his twin for him and slept with him instead. I had never confused them before; their physical attributes and demeanor were unmistakably different. Perhaps I was intoxicated, but even so—why was hesmoking like Damon? During one of our lunches, he mentioned that he gave up the habit years ago.
Professor Maxwell dropped his hand and rose to his feet. Immediately, he looked around until he found me leaning against his desk. He straightened his clothes, and I gulped. He looked threatening, like the demon of lust with his body of steel.
I looked away when he tucked his semi-hard dick back into his black slacks. How could he still be hard?
Oh God. I shouldn’t know what his dick looked like, let alone what it felt like inside me.
He marched toward me and dropped to one knee. I tensed when he placed a hand on my trembling cheek, lifting my face to his. His eyes swept over my features. “Was I too rough?”
I had no idea what to say. I wanted to scream at him, but it felt like my voice was permanently gone.
Instead, I slapped his hand away.
He frowned. “You’re mad,” he surmised.
My weary eyes scanned his expressionless face. How could he be so utterly detached from basic human emotions? Of course I was pissed. Did he not notice it when I fought him?
“On the boat, you told me never to hold back with you.”
My heart careened.
Oh fuck, I said that to him, didn’t I?
I started all this because I thought he was someone else. I hit on Professor Maxwell, not the other way around. I kissed him. I crawled into his bed willingly. I told him not to hold back because I didn’t want to be the infamously timid girl, especially when in his arms. I wanted him to treat me like his woman, not delicate glass.
“I thought that was how you wanted it,” he added.
It was a weak excuse for why he had attacked me in his lab with people on the other side of this door. But at least there was some logic behind it—Ihad practically asked him to do this.
What didn’t make sense was everything else. I made a move on him, but why did Professor Maxwell reciprocate?
Other women regularly sought out the impossible-to-please professor—I had seen it with my own eyes. He dismissed them without a second thought. And he hated it when female students were bold with him. Breaking his personal and professional code of conduct was entirely out of character for him. If anyone found out what had happened between us, it would jeopardize his career. He could lose everything because of me, and I didn’t want that at all. So, why did he do it?
Professor Maxwell never made emotional decisions. He was cold, calculating, and always in control.
“I couldn’t hold back,” he said at my extended silence. “I’d been going crazy all weekend.”
He reached for me again, and I recoiled. I didn’t want to be consoled by the man who had forced himself on me, though he seemed unaware of the magnitude of his actions.
“If that’s not what you had in mind, it can be different next time,” he promised, brushing his thumb over my lower lip.
Oh God, there couldn’t be a next time. I just wanted to forget any of this ever happened.
“You’re safe with me,” he said when I still hadn’t spoken.
I swallowed my tears as my body started to shake.
“You trust me, don’t you, Rose?”
