Page 6 of His to Teach
“I’m about to begin my graduate studies,” she says, and my stomach sinks. This could be a complication, her being a student.
“What field?”
“Sociology.”
I let out a breath, relieved. Even if she is at the same university, not necessarily certain in a city this size, she won’t be studying under me if her field is sociology. Which leaves open the possibility of her studying under me in a much different context…
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
I force my thoughts from the many things I’d like to teach this woman so I can focus on her words. “My senior thesis last year was on Sexual Counterculture and its Impact on Relationship Structure,” she rattles off, looking far more comfortable now. “I’m interested in expanding on those studies in grad school. I’ve been dying to come here so I can develop a stronger understanding of what happens in a place like this.”
I study her face, wondering why I don’t feel more disappointed. She’s basically just told me that she’s only here to observe. To study. Which would mean she’s not interested in doing the kinds of things I’m dying to do to her. Yet the disappointment doesn’t come. Interesting.
Maybe because I’m not buying it.
“So your interest in this club is purely academic?”
Her face colors again, eyes flashing downward.
Satisfied, I smile. Thought so.
“No,” she says, her voice once again whisper quiet. “I was…curious.”
God, I love her shyness, the way she automatically looks down without being told. I would bet a large portion of my considerable trust fund that this girl is a natural submissive.
I take a step closer and place a finger below her chin, tilting her head up so she has to look at me. Her eyes are dark and I see both fear and excitement in them.
“Curious, are you?”
She nods, licking her lips in an unconscious sort of way that has the blood rushing straight to my cock.
I make up my mind without a second thought.
“Then you should let me show you.”
HARPER
You should let me show you.
I never would have guessed that a handful of words could have such an effect on me. Of course, it isn’t just the words. It’s everything else, too—his voice, the solid sturdiness of his body leaning in towards me. The way he holds my gaze, those fiery blue eyes intense and hungry.
God, the way he looks at me. It frightens and excites me in equal measure. Something inside, some deep primal survival instinct is warning me to move, to go, to run. So why am I leaning closer? Why do I feel suddenly desperate to let him show me everything this place has to offer? Everythinghehas to offer.
I feel a rush of warmth on my hand and look down to see him taking it again, his palm dwarfing mine as he entwines our fingers. And just like that, the decision is made for me. I’ll follow this man wherever he wants to take me, so long as he keeps that hand wrapped around mine. As long as I can feel his warm skin pressed into mine.
“Okay,” I whisper, looking again into his eyes. He’s smiling now, more like a smirk, and I get the feeling he predicted my agreement before I said a word.
My eyes flick over to the steel door at the back of the space. The door is as conspicuous as it is plain, stark and gleaming amongst the lush fabrics and dark woods of the club. It looks out of place here, industrial and cold in the midst of old world luxury. According to Andres, the host who had shown me in, most of the scenes take place through that door. So I’m surprised when Nate turns in the opposite direction, away from the back rooms.
“I need a refill first,” he says, his hand moving to my back, gentle pressure guiding me across the floor towards the bar. “And you need a drink.”
I swallow, wondering what, exactly, we might see that will require I drink liquor first.
“Another Macallan, sir?” the bartender asked, reaching for an empty glass.
“Yes, please, Keith,” Nate says. “The same for the lady.”
He nods before turning to pull a bottle from the shelf behind him. Nate tilts his head down towards me and when he speaks his voice is a shade more commanding. “Always limit yourself to two drinks here.” I meet his gaze, curious, and he smiles slightly. “The hosts won’t allow you to participate in scenes if you appear intoxicated. But even as an observer, it’s important that you keep your wits about you in this environment.”
