Leighton It started with a text. "You free tonight?" Simple. Straight to the point. But when I opened the door to my apartment and saw Caleb standing there in black jeans, a fitted tee, and eyes that said I’m not here to play anymore, I knew something had changed. This wasn’t the boy from three weeks ago who stammered when I touched his thigh. This was the man who came to collect. “Nice place,” he said, stepping inside like he owned the walls. “Neat. Expected more books.” I didn’t answer. Just closed the door behind him. He turned to me, gaze flicking down my chest. “You always answer your students’ texts that fast?” I smirked. “Only the ones who get under my skin.” He stepped closer. “That a warning?” “It’s a compliment.” He reached up and undid the first button of my shirt. Then the next. His hands didn’t tremble. “Tonight,” he said, voice lower now, “I’m not sitting on your couch with my legs spread.” I raised an eyebrow. “No?” He leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “
Caleb I shouldn’t have come back. I knew that. But there I was—Tuesday, 3:59 PM—standing outside his door like an addict who couldn’t quit. And the worst part? I wasn’t even pretending anymore. I wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted the fire he lit in my chest, the way his voice stripped me bare, the control he never gave up. I knocked once. “Come in.” The second I stepped in, the door clicked locked behind me. He didn’t even look up from his desk. “Strip,” he said. I froze for a second. Then shut the door. No games today. No clever remarks or stalling. I peeled off my clothes with the kind of hunger that came from craving approval—his approval. I didn’t even realize how far gone I was until I stood there naked again and didn’t feel nervous. Just ready. He finally looked up. His gaze moved over me slowly, like he was memorizing every inch. “Couch,” he said. I moved, laid back like before. But this time, there was a difference. I wanted to be owned. Leighton He didn’t ev
Leighton He came back. Right on time. Thursday, 4PM sharp. Caleb Rowe—trouble wrapped in a pretty package, with a mouth that didn’t know when to shut up—stood outside my door again. He knocked this time. A formality. A small show of restraint, as if he hadn’t dared me to seduce him just two days ago. “Come in,” I said without looking up. He entered, shutting the door behind him. When I finally met his eyes, he wasn’t smirking. He looked… charged. Like something was coiled tight in his chest and he didn’t know whether to fight it or feed it. “Where do we start?” he asked. “Take your seat.” He obeyed. Again. I watched him from across the desk. That cocky aura was still there—legs wide, arms draped over the chair—but there was something different about his eyes. The way they flicked to my mouth and back to my face. “You actually want help,” I said. “Or you just want me to touch you?” He blinked, but didn’t flinch. “Who says I can’t have both?” God, he was reckless. I sto
Caleb The moment I walked into Professor Leighton’s office, I knew I should’ve knocked. But I didn’t. He was sitting behind his desk, suit jacket draped on the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up, pen between his fingers like he’d been waiting. His head tilted up slowly, and he didn’t speak. Just stared at me with a look I couldn’t read. My breath caught somewhere in my throat. “You’re late,” he said finally, voice smooth and unfazed. “Office hours didn’t start for another five minutes,” I replied, dropping into the chair across from him without asking. “Don’t act like I don’t know your schedule.” He smiled, but there was no kindness in it. “I’ll make a note that Mr. Caleb Rowe enjoys being punctual. For future reference.” He said my name like it was a secret he wasn’t supposed to say out loud. It made my skin prickle. “I’m not here to flirt,” I said, cocky as hell, crossing one leg over the other. “I just want clarity on the midterm.” “Is that what you think this is?” he
I never planned to forgive them. Not Devyn. Not Juno. But as I straddled my ex with her mouth on my neck, her fingers between my thighs, and his cock pulsing inside me, I realized this wasn’t about forgiveness. It was about taking everything back. And then breaking it. Their guilt. Their lies. Their bodies. All of it—mine now. “Don’t stop,” I moaned, hips grinding against Devyn’s as I reached back and gripped Juno’s wrist, pushing her fingers deeper. She gasped behind me, pressing her lips to the sweat-slick skin of my back. “You’re soaked.” “No shit,” I snapped, breath hitching. “You jealous?” “Fuck yes,” she whispered, voice ragged. Then come take what’s yours. --- Devyn looked up at me with that same helpless, dazed expression he wore when he came the first time we ever fucked. But this time? He was trying not to. My walls clenched around him and his jaw tightened. “I said you don’t come until I say,” I reminded him, slapping his chest lightly. His hands gripped my
DEVYN I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not this late. Not with her. And definitely not with my hands around her throat as she moaned into my mouth like she hadn’t just sent Talia a goodnight text ten minutes ago. “Fuck,” I groaned, biting down on Juno’s bottom lip as she arched into me. “You’re insane.” Her laugh was breathless, legs already around my waist. “You always liked that.” I shouldn’t have. But I did. I liked the way Juno kissed me like she owned the part of me I used to save for her best friend. I liked the way her nails dragged down my back like she was marking me. Like she knew this was wrong and it turned her on even more. The air in her apartment was humid, smelled like sweat and sin. Her bra was somewhere on the floor. My belt was half off, jeans hanging low on my hips as I pushed her against the wall. “You know she still thinks we barely talk, right?” I murmured against her neck. “That you’re just ‘checking in’ on me after the breakup?” “I am checking in,” she