Nothing is Forbidden, Right?
Nothing is Forbidden, Right?
Author: QueenOfSarcasm18

Chapter One

Isis Davenport rushed to class. She couldn’t believe how unfortunate she was. It was her first day of college and she was already late! She dashed down the halls, unable to recognize any of her new surroundings; she just focused on finding her first Humanities class. She prayed to God this professor was as nice as her former literature teacher.

She pushed open the door and declared. “I am so sorry, I’m late.” One more step in and she tripped, slightly losing balance. Isis righted herself but, her books, her handbag, and all of her belongings were scattered on the marbled floor. The sound of the objects echoing deadly in her ear and her embarrassment grew as the class stifled their snickers.

She immediately bent to retrieve them, “Crap!” she muttered under her breath.

“Ms. Davenport, I am assuming.” A tense male voice bounced off the walls of the classroom.

“The professor I am guessing.” She muttered angrily under her breath.

“You’re late.” The voice was harsh, vibrating through the room and she flinched. She knew she was late! Hence, the reason for her dashing into the classroom like a paper aeroplane; wild and directionless.

And you have a very masculine voice for someone at the age of forty! She mused. She would never say it out loud, of course, but her mind couldn’t contain its ability to conjure insults.

She finally assembled her things and escalated to her full height. Her eyes connected and widened at two perfect grey orbs. They were so intense, and she felt uncomfortable at their soul searching powers. They certainly didn’t appear to be that of a forty-year-old man.

Isis was shell-shocked, suddenly hyper-sensitive to the male specimen towering over her; a mist of darkness shrouding him. Her eyes roamed over the man in question. Her spotted chiseled cheekbones that no mere mortal should be able to possess smooth skin and a body that told of strength and power.  Isis couldn’t begin guessing an age. She would say in his mid-twenties but that was impossible...right?

“Well?” He glared at her, his arms folding at his chest and his not so concealed muscles bulged. By the looks of the room, she was certain every female counterpart hoped to be the fabric clinging onto him.

She immediately remembered her place. “I am so sorry. There was an accident on my way here. The traffic was unbelievable. It took forever just to pass; I had to run to class.” She explained truthfully and out of breath. Although, whether her lack of oxygen consumption was due to her rushing to class or due to the man standing in front of her, she couldn’t quiet tell.

She stared at him and he returned her gaze stonily. “That’s it?” He asked, his brows rising haughtily. Isis’ temper flared, and she schooled herself to calm down. She gritted her teeth and tried to sound neutral.

“I am sure people were injured, maybe even killed in that accident. It’s no situation to disregard.” The memory of her mother’s death trapping her and she cursed herself for acting emotionally, yet this bastard was acting as if it was nothing of consequence.

He closed the distance and stood a few inches away from her, he towered well over six feet and Isis felt her intimidation growing. Isis became less and less aware of the stunned gazes of the students as they looked on in amusement.

“People die every day.” He pronounced each word callously and she could feel the emotion rising, she clenched her fists at her sides. Her mother had only died a year ago and she had to make major life changes. She hardly had the time to mourn her but anything that sparked her memory made Isis feel weak. She would want to fade out of civilization and just be alone. Her mother was her closest friend and there was nothing, no time or person who could fill that void.

“They do. But it’s disrespectful to disregard their lives and existence. They deserve to be mourned. All life is precious.”

She saw his jaw clench. Maybe he didn’t like her answering him in such a brazen manner?

“Since you have so much regard for life, I will try to put yours to some purpose.” He handed her a paper. She eyed it, taking hold of it cautiously.

“You will write an essay per question. I expect it to be handed in tomorrow. Starting from today, you will be assisting me in the evenings.” He declared his eyes cold and she stared at him unbelievably.

“That’s not fair,” Isis retaliated, her voice low. He had to be crazy! How on earth did he expect her to write two essays for him by tomorrow? Especially if she had to stay after hours to help him? Forget sleeping, she wouldn’t even have time to breathe!

“Since you know so much about life, I needn’t tell you it isn’t fair.” He countered smugly and Isis’ jaw almost dropped at his callousness.


“Do you want more punishment?” He snapped and she was certain her face indicated her anger. If there was anything Isis hated, it was being yelled at.

“I did nothing wrong.” She tried to sound respectful but was certain she failed.

“You were late.” His voice boomed. “I care not for your petty reasons. I value punctuality Ms. Davenport and you will do well to remember to keep on my good side.” He warned and then turning to class, “That also goes for everyone else.”

“If only such a side existed.” She muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” He questioned.

“Oh, nothing.” Isis smiled venomously and she swore she saw some emotion flickering in his eyes. As if he had emotions! Her mind spat.

“Good. So if you are finished interrupting my class, I suggest you find a seat.” He commanded and she walked past him in forced submission. The amused expressions on the rest of the class annoyed her. They were around nineteen for God’s sake! Didn’t they possess an ounce of maturity?

She found a seat at the back and plopped down. This was going to be a very long class.

“So for those who missed our introductions,” The devil of a teacher began. Isis knew he was referring to her and so did everyone. She maintained the scowl on her face and leaned into her seat.

“My name is Lex Greyson and I will be your professor for this class. We were amid introductions so, next in the row stand and state your name, any hobbies, age, one of the greatest joys in your life and favorite genre of music.” He laughed along with the class. Isis rolled her eyes. “Also tell us something personal as well.” He finished and walked to the front of the class.

One by one the students rose and divulged, Isis let the sounds fade around her after hearing silly comments from girls such as how attractive they found professor Greyson and how he was every female fantasy. Could they be any more embarrassing to the female sex? She took to doodling on her binder.

“Ms. Davenport.” Isis allowed the sounds to stimulate her eardrums and she realized it was her turn. The class spun around to stare at her. She slowly rose and stared directly into the insolent’s teacher’s enthralling eyes.

“My name is Isis Davenport. I just turned nineteen in September. My hobbies include reading and writing.  One of my greatest joys is animals. Favorite genre of music; rock and—“

“Didn’t take you for a pathetic Goth!” A girl sitting directly in front of her gushed to her friends and they all giggled. Isis looked at her and smiled sweetly.

“If only you paid so much more attention to yourself than others you would find that half of the words typed on your word document are incorrectly spelled.” She spat silently enough for the girl and her friends to hear her, a smile plastered on her face.

“As I was saying, where was I?” she muttered to herself. “Right!” she recapped her memory, “Something personal” Isis drew breath, “My mother died last year in a car accident, she was the only family I had.” Isis blinked back the tears as she stared directly into Mr. Greyson’s eyes.

She swore she saw him do a double-take and she hoped he felt horrible! She motioned to take her seat when he stopped her.

“Why did she name you Isis?” he questioned. She knew it was a weird name but she owned it and loved it. Isis smiled as she recalled her mother’s reasoning when she had asked why she gave her such a name.

“My mother was an Egyptologist.” This was all she was willing to disclose.

“Interesting, did she have a specific reason why she chose Isis among all the other names?” he questioned.

“I already gave a personal piece of information.” She replied and took her seat.

Mr. Greyson couldn’t stop staring at this student. In all his years he was never that rude. Yet she sparked a rise of emotion. Maybe it was her ability to keep her intimidation of him hidden. She was headstrong, he could see it. But she had to understand that he was the boss around here. He was in control and he would be damned if some girl tried to take that from him. She was just a student, he was the teacher. He held all the authority and he would help her remember that even if he had to be a complete arse.

“Right.” He countered her last comment. “This may be your first day,“ Lex turned his attention to the class. “But I intend to have some work done.”

“So let’s start with the play. What was it about?” his voice rose and the class muttered. He could tell that they didn’t read it. He grew impatient.

“Mrs. Davenport?” He singled her out and he saw her eyes harden as she regarded him. She inhaled deeply and glared at the same girl from before. She had taken to look at Isis mockingly now, clearly assuming she would be further embarrassed.

Isis went into a flawless explanation and Lex was impressed, yet he felt that she needn’t know that. He shook his head and indicated that she was correct. He wouldn’t praise her, although he could admit to himself that he let his bias get the better of him; a very unprofessional affliction.

“Well, at least we have established that. We don’t have much time left to divulge into discussions so I trust you will read up for tomorrow’s class. In the few minutes remaining are there any questions?” Lex asked, his hands thrusting into the pockets of his trousers.

“How old are you?” A brunette with blue eyes questioned. To Isis, the girl’s posture was beyond flirtatious. She rolled her eyes. Mr. Greyson probably adores the attention, she mused.

She saw him consider the girl and then he smiled. “I am thirty.” He answered.

“And what are your views about dating someone younger than you are?” A redhead piped up and Isis inwardly groaned. Were they serious? Yep, he was so handsome he was probably craved by Michel Angelo in an attempt to capture the beauty of one of those Greek Gods! Yet Isis felt that personality spoke a lot and he was so tainted she just wanted to throw her books at him! And to those who knew her, she had lots of respect for the written word.

He considered the question causing Isis to question his morals. “I have no qualms about it, yet I prefer my women a year or two younger than I am. And of course, there must not be any restrictions; therefore, I do not date my students or women under the age of twenty-two.” He answered and Isis smirked at the hopeless faces of the girls in the class.

Mr. Greyson stared at his watch. “Class is over. You can make your way out.” He declared and Isis mentally thanked God.

She gathered her things. She was the last to leave, a consequence of sitting in the last row. At the door, Mr. Greyson’s voice echoed.

“Come around my office at four.” He demanded and Isis clenched her fists.

“Of course.” She replied, annoyed that she had to now search for his office since her pride prevented her from asking him where it was.

“You really need to control your anger issues.” He replied indifferently, his eyes glued to his desk.

“I do not have anger issues!” Isis declared. He sighed exasperatedly, his eyes connected with hers. “Then why are you clenching your fists?” He questioned.

“I sometimes lose feeling in my hands, clenching seems to help.” She lied, turned on her heel, and placed her palm over the doorknob.

“Don’t be late.” He demanded.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She replied sardonically and exited the faculty auditorium.

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