Semua Bab My Professor's Dirty Little Secret: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Dalton POV—The neon lights of the club flickered across my face as I pushed the door open, the muffled bass of the music vibrating through the floor beneath my shoes. It smelled faintly of liquor, sweat, and something sweet I couldn’t quite place. My tie was loose, collar unbuttoned, a subtle rebellion against the rigid formality I usually maintained. Tonight, I needed a drink... no, I needed perspective, and my friend, Marc, the owner of this dive turned hotspot, had promised that a couple of pints would put me back on track.“Dalton,” Marc greeted me warmly, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Long week?” His grin was easy, familiar, a rare comfort in a world that often demanded perfection.I let out a dry laugh and followed him toward a corner table, the glow of the bar lights painting everything in shades of amber and crimson. “You have no idea,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. I didn’t want to dive into specifics yet, but the tension in my shoulders betrayed the storm

Dalton POV — Sunday mornings were quiet, my favorite kind. No lectures. No grading. No carefully measured words. Just the muted click of my dog’s nails on hardwood and the low hum of the kettle on the stove. I poured my coffee, black, and leaned against the counter while Luna waited patiently by the door. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” I muttered, grabbing the leash. “You’ve got priorities.” Outside, the air was crisp, early autumn settling in with the kind of chill that bit through my hoodie. The campus sat two blocks away, still asleep except for the occasional jogger. I let Luna lead the way through the small park behind my apartment complex, her tail wagging as she trotted ahead. I liked mornings like this, the rare stretches where my mind didn’t feel like a warzone. The rhythm of Luna’s paws, the creak of tree branches overhead, it grounded me. Still, she crept in. Sloane. Every time I blinked, I saw her mouth curve in defiance, heard her voice echo in the back of my mind.

Sloane POV — The little slip of paper burned in my hand like it had absorbed every ounce of electricity in the dorm room. I stared at Dalton’s number for a solid five minutes, trying to convince myself I didn’t want to text him. Don’t be stupid, I muttered under my breath. He’s a professor. This is… not normal. My thumb hovered over the keyboard for what felt like an eternity. Every possible message I could type either sounded awkward, flirtatious, or just flat-out dumb. I groaned, tossing my phone onto the bed, only for it to buzz immediately with a notification from a group chat with Lila. “Stop overthinking it,” Lila’s text read. “You’re going to die regretting it if you don’t at least say hi.” I exhaled and picked the phone back up. Fine. Just hi. That’s all. Something casual. Something normal. I typed slowly: Hi… this is Sloane. Got your note. Hope I’m not bothering you. My thumb hovered over send. Too formal? I thought. But before I could second-guess it further, I

Sloane POV—The room was heavy with anticipation, the air thick with tension and heat. Dalton moved around me with a precision that made my pulse race, his presence commanding, every movement deliberate. The soft glow of the lamp caught the edges of his features, highlighting the hard lines of his jaw and the tattoos that snaked across his skin.“You’ve been challenging me all week,” he murmured, voice low, and there was a dangerous edge to it. “Testing me in ways you probably don’t even realize. I don’t like losing control, Sloane.”My lips curled into a smirk, defiant despite the rapid beating of my heart. I loved hearing my name on his lips. “Maybe I like seeing how far you’ll go,” I whispered, letting my eyes roam over him, feeling the heat between us intensify.Dalton’s fingers brushed my arm, teasing, almost delicate, but every touch carried weight. “Far enough,” he said, leaning closer, “to make sure you understand the consequences of pushing me too far.” He pulled the cuffs c

Sloane POV—By the time I crept back into the apartment, the sun was high and my body felt like it had been through a marathon, every muscle a reminder of what the night had been. I moved quietly, slipping my shoes off by the door, praying Lila was still asleep.The apartment was still, except for the hum of the fridge and the faint buzz of my phone in my hand, Dalton’s name lighting up the screen. You make it home okay?I smiled before I could stop myself, thumbs already moving. Yeah. Tired. You wore me out.A second later: Good. You needed it.My heart fluttered in my chest, that familiar heat threatening to creep back. I bit my lip, typing something teasing back, but froze when I heard movement down the hall.Lila emerged, hair wild, wearing a faded T-shirt and pajama shorts. “Where were you last night?” she asked, voice still thick with sleep. “I woke up at two and your bed was empty.”My pulse jumped. “Oh, I, um… stayed at a friend’s.”Lila raised a brow. “A friend?”I shrugged,