Chapter 11: Tutor Me, Professor Lucien

Sofia Pov.

I don’t think, I just blurt it out.

“You want a blowjob? Will that make you let it go?”

I freeze. My heart kicks against my ribs.

Oh my God.

Did I just say that?

Heat explodes across my face, shame slapping me hard. It’s not just what I said—it’s how I said it. The way I leaned in. The way my voice dropped.

I just flirted.

With Professor Lucien. Grumpy pants.

No. No, no, no. I don’t see him like that.

He’s not some... attractive guy. He’s just—

A perverted professor trying to manipulate me into sleeping with him. Giving him a blowjob.

But you did stare at his photos.

My mind mocks me. Traitorously.

I wasn’t staring.

I wasn’t.

My face is on fire. Not because he’s standing there, silent, leaning against his desk like power itself—

But because I’d fantasized.

At twenty-two, I’m proud to say my only sexual experience was in high school.

A stupid, forgettable moment.

Nothing I ever wanted to repeat.

But last night, after I tucked Grandma into bed...

I couldn’t sleep.

And my mind... wandered to him.

To Professor Lucien.

And I felt that awful, shameful tingle between my legs.

I can’t meet his gaze, but the air thickens.

“I didn’t take you to be filthy, Sofia.”

Sofi...a.

Why does he say my name like that?

Like it tastes different on his tongue.

His words finally register.

Filthy?

“I’m not filthy.”

My eyes snap to his.

But he’s already watching me. The way his lips tilt to the side...

I remember his fingers guiding mine—low, firm, deliberate—placing my hand on his...

God. No. Don’t think about that.

“Sofia...”

My body jolts. Eyes snap to his.

“You make it hard to forgive you when you say things like that.”

I blink, like the word short-circuited something in me. “Things...”

“Come tomorrow. Get your phone. You can leave.”

I exhale. Just like that.

One moment he’s a pervert. The next, he’s giving me my phone for free.

What is he? Some kind of mood-swinging enigma?

“Why.”

The word slips out before I can stop it.

“Why what?” he asks.

He asks.

I swallow.

Why did I say that? Why can’t I just shut up and leave like a normal girl?

Get the phone. Leave. Simple.

But I need a tutor.

And it had to be him.

Professor Lucien.

Only he could do that.

Somehow, I know it.

I could channel this rage—this hatred—into something useful.

Into learning.

Under his care.

"Why are you giving it back? Just like that? Had a fight with your conscience?"

My voice barely sounds like mine—too sharp, too small.

Why did I say that? Why am I still standing here?

I should just leave.

Run.

But instead, I’m spitting questions like I want something more.

Like I need something more.

And now he's staring at me like I’m the puzzle he finally wants to solve.

His lips twitch. Something dangerous flickers in his eyes.

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to, Sofia."

The way he says my name—it shouldn't make my stomach tighten like that.

But it does.

Instead of satisfaction, something burns in me—an annoyance, a shame, a hunger I won’t name.

"Sure I don't," I mutter, even though part of me does.

My heartbeat is loud. Throbbing.

Is he dismissing me? Is that what this is?

Am I nothing but a mess in his office to toss out like trash?

He casually pushes himself off the desk and takes a step forward.

I step back—instinct.

But the wall meets me before I can breathe again.

"I thought I knew you, Sofia."

His eyes are so intense, raking every piece of my skin. And somehow I don't want him to stop.

I suck in a breath, the air electric, as that tingling sensation between my legs returns.

"When you followed me in here, don't tell me you were willing to wrap that pretty mouth of yours around my—"

"Stop..." I snap.

That wasn’t my thought.

No.

I don’t want him. I don’t want his cocky attitude.

I don’t want to know if he’s times five the size of anyone I’ve ever been with.

And yet...

"I stopped. A while ago. From the moment I asked you to come back tomorrow for your phone."

He pauses right in front of me, barely inches away, his eyes burning into mine.

"I ended it. Why are you still here, Sofia?"

My mouth goes dry. My back is already against the wall.

I have nowhere to run.

Why am I still here?

Because even though every nerve tells me he’s dangerous—

Even though I’m angry and ashamed and confused—

Even though I should hate him—

There’s something in him that makes me question what I want.

Like no one ever has.

"Because..."

My voice falters.

His gaze drops lower—slowly, too slowly.

Over the outline of my collarbone.

My dress feels thin. Bare.

My body betrays me, standing straighter under his gaze like it wants to be seen.

And God help me, I want him to see it.

Pride swells through the shame.

That’s the worst part—I like being looked at like this.

Like I matter. Like I’m powerful.

"You love that power, huh?"

His voice is fire against my skin.

His eyes shift back to my face.

"You love seeing men like me losing their facade in front of you, huh?"

"No."

My face heats up at the accusation.

"You're too close."

"Then why are you still here, Sofia?"

"Because..."

I swallow the rest of it.

Say it. Say the truth.

"Because I want you to tutor me."

*

*

*

*

“Sofia, are you okay?”

Mia and Keira rush over as I keep wiping the tears that won’t stop streaming down my cheeks.

“Talk to us,” Keira says, grabbing my arm just as I pull my bag from Mia’s grip.

It’s been almost an hour, and they’re still clustered around that jerk’s photo. What’s so great about him? Just because he has a hot body and an average-looking face doesn’t mean he gets to treat people like dirt.

“I just want to go home,” I whisper, exhaling shakily as I fight to stop the tears from falling again.

Mia gently pulls me away from the other students. “You haven’t been the same since that day with Professor Lucien. What’s going on? We’re your friends, for fuck’s sake.”

Keira rubs my head softly. “At least let us walk you home. We’re your friends for a reason, right?”

Somehow, Mia and Keira have managed to end up in my room, sprawled out on my bed like they live here.

I walk out of the bathroom feeling refreshed, a towel wrapped around my head and my skin finally cool from the storm of earlier.

Mia glances up from her phone. “Hey there, you look better.”

Keira flashes a smile. “Yeah. Whenever you’re ready to talk about what’s going on—we’re here.”

I chuckle as I pick up the hair dryer and start running my fingers through my damp hair. “Stop being emotional, you two. You’re acting like a pair of soft-hearted old ladies.”

“Did you get your phone from Professor Lucien?” Mia asks suddenly.

The question hits harder than I expect. My throat tightens as I fumble with the dryer’s switch.

Mia notices. She scoffs. “This is about Professor Lucien, isn’t it? We were supposed to raid his office together, remember? So why are you acting like you’ve been cursed by the consequences?”

They both stare at me now—Keira sitting up, eyebrows raised; Mia folding her arms like she already knows I’m lying.

I turn away from their gaze, forcing a casual tone into my voice. “It’s no big deal. I’ll get the phone tomorrow.”

They exchange a look behind me. The kind of look that says we’re not buying this.

“Really now,” Keira says flatly. “We’re hiding stuff now?”

“Trust me,” I say quietly, the blow dryer still in my hand but long forgotten.

Their silence hangs heavy in the room. I can feel their worry pressing against my back, but I keep my eyes on the wall—because if I meet theirs, they’ll see it.

They’ll see everything.