Chapter 8. The Art of Teasing

"Should I lock the door now too?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

My mouth opened, but no words came out. My throat was dry. My heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, loud enough that I was sure he could hear it.

Adrian didn't wait for an answer.

He took a slow, deliberate step toward me.

I took a stumbling step back.

He took another step. I retreated again. It was a predator stalking his prey, right there in the middle of the empty lecture hall.

My heel hit something hard. The teacher's desk.

I gasped as the edge of the heavy wood dug into my lower back. I was trapped. There was nowhere left to run.

Adrian stepped into my personal space. He placed one hand on the desk, right next to my hip, caging me in. His body was inches from mine. I could feel the heat radiating from him through his suit.

He looked down at me, his eyes dark, scanning my face. He looked at my trembling lips, then down to the rapid rise and fall of my chest.

"You're trembling, Maya," he whispered. It wasn't a question. It was an observation.

I gripped the edge of the desk behind me to stop my knees from buckling. "Professor... we shouldn't..."

"Shouldn't we?" he challenged softly.

He leaned in closer. His face was so close that his nose brushed against mine. The scent of sandalwood and expensive whiskey filled my senses, making my head spin.

I closed my eyes. Do it, a treacherous voice in my head screamed. Just do it.

I tilted my chin up, waiting. Waiting for his lips to crash against mine. Waiting for him to make the fantasy real.

I felt his arm move. He reached over my shoulder. I held my breath, expecting his hand to tangle in my hair or grab the back of my neck.

He leaned past my ear, his breath tickling my skin.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice devoid of any passion.

My eyes flew open.

Adrian wasn't reaching for me. He was reaching for the leather file folder that was sitting on the desk behind me.

He grabbed the folder, straightened up, and stepped back.

The loss of his body heat hit me like a bucket of ice water.

I stood there, frozen against the desk, my lips still parted, my body still humming with anticipation for a touch that never came.

Adrian tucked the folder under his arm. He looked at me, and a smirk curled the corner of his mouth. A cruel, knowing smirk.

He knew exactly what I wanted. He knew exactly what I was expecting. And he enjoyed denying me.

"Don't forget to breathe, Miss Lin," he said coolly. "Hypoxia kills brain cells."

He turned on his heel and walked toward the door.

"See you at six, don’t be late" he called out over his shoulder without looking back.

And then he was gone.

I let out a ragged breath, slumping against the desk. My legs finally gave out, and I slid down a few inches, catching myself before I hit the floor.

"I hate him," I whispered to the empty room.

But my body was still burning. My skin was still tingling where he had almost touched me.

"I hate him," I repeated, louder this time.

But as I grabbed my bag and marched out of the hall, I knew it was a lie. I didn't just hate him. I wanted to strangle him... and then climb him like a tree.

And the worst part? He knew it.