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CHAPTER TWO
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2025-09-10 19:28:16Ava Sterling stared at the paper in her hands like it had personally insulted her.
"C+"
Written in red ink, underlined twice — as if he wanted to rub it in.
Her heart dropped.
She flipped through the pages again, eyes scanning the margins, searching for harsh notes or critical feedback — but there was barely any. Just that one, clipped comment at the top:
“Surface-level analysis. Expected more.” — Dr. W. Reid
Her jaw clenched.
She had expected more too. Her work was good — thoughtful, well-structured, insightful. She’d spent hours crafting that essay. There was no way in hell it deserved a C. Unless...
Unless this wasn’t about the work at all.
This must be about: The slap. The stare-down. The refusal to apologize. The flirtation.
The fact that she she showed no fear in his office and had walked away with her chin up.Petty bastard.
Handsome, but very petty.
Her stomach churned as she checked the grading weight for that assignment: 25% of the final grade.
This could cost her her scholarship.
Her graduation. Her entire future.Ava took a breath.
She didn’t want to go back into that office. Not after the heat that had passed between them last time. Not after the challenge in her voice — the one that said, "I dare you."
But pride wouldn’t keep her in school. She needed to be smart.
Just this once… she needed to play the game differently.----
By the time she knocked on his office door again, her anger had simmered down into something sharper — a mix of fear and strategy.
If there's anything she had learnt from her relationship with Louis, is that all men, whether married or not, couldn't resist a challenge that has to do with a woman's body.
So she had intentionally worn a tight dress, revealing a bit of her cleavage. She had plans to distract and earn Dr. Reid's attention.
And maybe just maybe, he might regrade her paper.
He opened the door himself this time, looking every bit the villain in a white dress shirt and no tie, sleeves rolled up again like he had just come from tormenting another student.
His expression didn’t shift. Even with her cleavage exposed for him to see.
“Miss Sterling,” he said, voice unreadable. “You’re becoming a regular visitor.”
She clutched the graded essay in her hand, her fingers crumpling the edge.
“I’d like to discuss my grade, sir.”
Sir.
It slipped out before she could stop it. She never used that word. But something about the way his brow lifted told her he liked it.
“Come in.”
She stepped inside, quieter this time. No bold eye-rolls, no fire in her tone. Just careful control. She sat without being told.
He leaned back in his chair, studying her like a puzzle he already knew how to solve.
“You disagree with my evaluation?”
She met his gaze. “I think the grade was… unexpectedly low.”
“Do you?” he murmured.
Her fingers tightened around the paper.
“I worked hard on that essay. I know it wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t worth a C.”
He said nothing, just held her gaze.
She inhaled slowly. “Please. This paper counts for too much. If I drop below a 3.5, I lose my scholarship. If I fail this class, I can’t graduate with my year.”
He tilted his head. “And you think you’re the only student with something to lose?”
His voice was calm, but underneath it was steel. She felt it — the unspoken: You pushed me. Now I’m pushing back.
A beat of silence.
Then, in a quieter voice:
“Was this about what happened in your office?”
His mouth curved just slightly — not a smile, but something darker.
“You mean the office where you refused to apologize for doing something wrong?” he asked.
Her throat tightened.
Ava looked down, then slowly up again. “I’m sorry.”
The words tasted foreign.
"And now you apologize?" he scoffs, a wicked grin at the corner of his lips.
"I sincerely am. I don't know what came over me."
"Where? At the office or at the club?" he asked, the grin still on his face.
"Both. Please do forgive me." She pleaded, swallowing her pride.
His eyes narrowed. Not because he didn’t believe her — but because he did. And that made it worse.
“That’s a start,” he said softly.
Then, after a pause, “Come back Friday. Same time. We’ll go over the essay together.”
She blinked.
“So… you’ll regrade it?”
He didn’t answer. Just watched her with that cool, unreadable stare.
“We’ll see.” He eyes finally landed on her cleavage.
Jackpot!
And for a moment — just a moment — she felt something stir between them again. Not just attraction, but also temptation.
And above all, Control.
And the slow, dangerous way he was starting to enjoy having it over her.
As she stood to leave, he added casually:
“Oh, and Miss Sterling?”
She turned at the door.
“Wear something less… distracting next time.”
Ava’s breath caught — and for the second time that week, she walked out of Dr. Reid’s office with her heart pounding and her pride bleeding.
But this time, she wasn’t sure who was winning anymore.
And all she could think about was being in his office again.
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Camille was halfway through her evening coffee when her phone buzzed on the table beside her.She barely glanced at it at first.Then she froze.A familiar blue dot blinked against the digital map on her screen.Ava’s location.Camille frowned.That wasn’t campus.It wasn’t the dorm.It wasn’t Louis’s apartment.Her thumb pressed the screen, zooming in slowly.Her stomach dropped.The motel.The same one.The same cheap, forgettable building with peeling paint and flickering signage—the one she had once walked into herself, believing she was stepping into something thrilling, dangerous, exclusive.Her pulse spiked.No.No, no, no.Ava must have forgotten to turn it off.Camille stared at the dot as though willing it to move. It didn’t.It remained perfectly still.Room-level still.Her breathing quickened. Anger came first—sharp and immediate. Then humiliation, thick and suffocating.She had warned Ava.She had given her a chance.She had made it very clear what would happen if she di
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER SIXTY ONE
The kiss deepened, but not woth urgency.It was tentatively passionate, as if both of them were testing the reality of the moment, confirming that they were still standing in the same room, still bound to the same disastrous gravity that had pulled them together in the first place.William’s mouth was warm, familiar. His hand slid from Ava’s cheek to the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair with a possessiveness that made her breath hitch. The moment she responded—softly at first, then with more certainty—something in him snapped.The restraint he’d been clinging to all evening dissolved.He pulled her closer, the space between them vanishing as if it had never existed. Ava’s hands found his chest instinctively, palms pressing against the steady rise and fall of his breathing. She could feel his heart beneath her fingers, fast and insistent, betraying the calm authority he’d tried so hard to maintain.“I don't know if I can trust you,” she whispered against his mouth, tho
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The door clicked shut behind William with a finality that made Ava’s chest tighten.The motel room felt smaller with him inside it—too quiet, too intimate, the hum of the old air conditioner the only thing breaking the silence. He didn’t move toward her immediately. Instead, he stood near the door, one hand still resting on the lock, as though bracing himself.“This ends tonight,” he repeated, his voice low, controlled.The words hung between them.William slowly shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the chair. He loosened his tie further, the practiced motions of a man trying to regain authority over a situation that was slipping through his fingers.“Hope you didn't come here with expectations,” he said.Ava swallowed. “I didn’t come with expectations. I came with the truth.”That made him pause.He turned back to her slowly. “What truth?”Her hands began to tremble despite her resolve. She clasped them together in front of her, fingers digging into her palms as though ancho
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Ava stood outside Dr. William Reid’s office longer than she meant to.The hallway was quiet that late afternoon. Classes were still in session, but this wing of the building had emptied out, leaving behind only the distant murmur of voices and the soft hum of the ventilation system.Her hand hovered near the door.For the first time since everything had begun, since secret glances and late-night calls and promises whispered in low voices, she wasn’t trembling.She was braced.Ava lifted her hand and knocked.Once.Twice.“Come in,” William’s voice called, clipped, controlled.She opened the door and stepped inside.William Reid looked up from his desk, and whatever mask he’d been wearing slipped for half a second before snapping firmly back into place. Surprise flickered first. Then irritation. Then something darker, anxiety he was trying desperately to bury.“Ava,” he said, already standing. “This isn’t appropriate.”She closed the door behind her carefully. “We need to talk.”His ja
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William Reid sat alone in his office long after Louis had left.The ticking of the wall clock felt unnaturally loud, each second scraping against his nerves. His laptop screen had gone dark, forgotten. Papers lay scattered across his desk, but he saw none of them. His mind replayed the last moments of that conversation over and over again, each repetition tightening the knot in his chest.I want Ava in my bed tonight. Make that happen, professor.William pressed his palms flat against the desk and leaned forward, breathing slowly, deliberately. That demand wasn’t just blackmail, it was cruelty. Calculated. Personal.Louis wasn’t just after leverage anymore.He was after revenge.And William knew exactly why.Louis had loved Ava once. Had believed she belonged to him. Discovering her secret—their secret—had twisted something inside him, turned heartbreak into a weapon.William straightened abruptly and began pacing the room, his steps sharp, restless. Every angle he examined led to ano
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The campus was already awake when William Reid arrived.Students clustered in small groups along the walkways, laughter drifting through the crisp morning air, backpacks slung over shoulders, coffee cups in hand. It was a familiar sight—one he had once found comforting. Orderly. Predictable. Controlled.Today, it felt like camouflage.William parked in his usual spot, stepped out of his car, and adjusted his tie with deliberate precision. He forced his shoulders back, his posture immaculate, his expression calm. To anyone watching, he was exactly what he had always been: Dr. William Reid, respected lecturer, model academic, a man who belonged here.Inside, however, his thoughts were sharp and singular.Control the situation.That was all that mattered now.He walked briskly toward the faculty building, nodding absently at a colleague who greeted him, returning a polite smile to a student who held the door open for him. Each interaction felt performative, as though he were playing a ro
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