Racing emotions

Isla’s POV

I froze. I definitely wasn’t affected by his words. But then goosebumps lined my skin. Heat built low in my belly and my thighs clenched together instinctively. If I wasn’t affected by his dirty way of talking, why then was my body betraying me?

I cleared my throat. “You are my professor sir and I’m nothing but a student. I don’t think there’s anything I would be able to offer you.” I completely ignored the part where he mentioned the night before. 

He stood up from his chair and I internally screamed. Why was he coming close? I would be able to take it if he were far away but up close? I didn’t trust my body. His scent wafted through my nostrils making me dizzy. 

He hummed. “Are you sure about that?” His voice was velvety, smooth. It slowly crept its way up my skin. He had a slight accent, that slowly slipped its way through when he talked for a long time. It was hot, he was hot. 

“Get a grip on yourself Isla.” I internally berated myself. 

I nodded. “You would be doing me a huge favor sir. I will make sure to work extra hard. I will…”

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to work extra hard. I want something else. Something only you would be able to give me.”

“W…what is that?” I hesitated before asking. I didn’t trust him, not even a little bit. He moved closer to me. 

“You see, I have an exhibition in the next three months. The location has been booked, the artworks have been booked and paid for also but I haven’t found the perfect model yet till I met you,” he replied taking slow steps around me with his eyes still lingering on me. Of course, he was an artist. He is an art professor after all. 

“You haven’t drawn anything but people have already paid for it?” I inquired in surprise. What level of trust did those people have in him? He smiled placing his hands in his pockets without saying anything. 

“They are nude arts,” he murmured. My lips parted in surprise. His gaze landed on my mouth. He lifted his hand, his thumb pushing forward. I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes closed waiting for his touch which never came. 

“Be my model Isla. I can’t think of anyone else aside from you. That is how you are going to repay me for bringing this matter up to the board,” he declared. I pried my eyes open but he had moved away from me. 

“B..but why me? Is this even legal? What if the other students find out?” I couldn’t. I haven’t ever imagined myself as a nude model. How could I possibly?

He raised a brow, clearly amused. “Which of your questions should I answer first?” There was something dark and dangerous in the way he smiled. 

“All of them.”

“I want you because you are gorgeous. It’s not illegal, we would be out of the school premises. This has nothing to do with the other students except you want a repeat of what happened last night?” He asked, his eyes locking into mine, searching for answers. Damn it. Damn him, his perfect face and hypnotizing eyes. 

I scoffed. “Of course not.” 

He nodded. “So what’s it going to be? Deal?” 

I couldn’t say no. I definitely needed the scholarship. Being his model for a little while wouldn’t hurt right? I needed this badly. Before I could overthink it, I nodded. 

“Words Miss Caldwell. I’m not a mind reader.”

“We have a deal,” I affirmed. He smirked once again pulling a card from his pocket and stretching it out towards me. 

“It has my number and my address. Meet me later today by six and we can go over the details.”

I slowly took the card from him. Sebastian Sinclair was boldly written on it. He walked back to his chair, took his seat, and began typing on his computer, the same way he had earlier when I walked in. I took that as my cue to leave. I barely made it out of his office before Macy rushed in front of me, curious to know his response. I placed the card in my back pocket. 

“So?”

“He agreed to bring it up to the board and promised to get my scholarship application reviewed.”

She squealed pulling me into a tight hug. “That’s great. Professor Sinclair is so nice. We will have to find a way to thank him properly.” I forced a smile. She had no idea what I had to do before he agreed. I couldn’t tell her about it yet. We held hands as we headed back to the next class together. 

*****

I tugged at my dress after ringing the doorbell to Professor Sinclair’s apartment. I felt out of place in the neighborhood. The apartment building stood out among sleek townhouses, its exterior all glass balconies and soft lighting. The streets were quiet, lined with tall trees and luxury cars parked in the driveway. 

The door suddenly opened and he appeared in front of me in a black shirt, blue jeans, and an apron that was stained with paint. He had a paintbrush tucked behind his ears. I gulped. He looked way better than he did on suit. 

“Miss Caldwell, please come in,” he muttered, stepping out of the way. I stepped into the apartment and was taken aback by the interior. High ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows of the city. The furnitures were elegant. I couldn’t take it all in at once. It definitely didn’t look like an apartment that was paid for with a professor’s salary. Just who was this man?

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked with a raised brow. 

I shook my head. “Let’s get to it.” I just wanted this to be done with so I could take my leave. I didn’t want to spend longer than necessary with him. Well, mainly because I didn’t trust myself around him. 

He looked amused but he nodded and led me towards another room which was his art room. There were canvases, art brushes, and paints neatly laid out. 

“Why does it seem almost as if you are keeping your distance from me?” he asked taking a seat. That’s because I was but I didn’t say that out loud. 

“I’m not here to get comfortable, am I? I’m strictly here on business,” I retorted. 

He shrugged. “Before we start, I would like to see what I’m working with.” 

He pulled the paintbrush from his ear and twirled it around his fingers, his gaze fixated on me. 

“Strip.” He ordered. His voice came out low, dark, and commanding. I was taken aback. My cheeks burned, my mind screaming at me to hold it together. I promised myself I wouldn’t let him ruffle my feathers but here I was squirming under his piercing gaze, which seemed to enjoy it. 

“We don’t have all day princess. Go on, I’m waiting,” he probed, getting comfortable in his seat. I blinked, stunned. The endearment made my resolve come crashing down. Professor Sinclair was going to be the death of me.