All Chapters of His Forbidden Model: The Professor's Obsession: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Jasmine“You wanted to see me, Professor?”I closed the office door behind me with far more composure than I actually felt, considering the message that had summoned me there forty minutes into his posted office hours.Come to my office. It’s urgent.That was all Davin had written.No explanation, no mention of coursework, nothing that would have helped me determine whether he genuinely needed to discuss something important or had simply decided that three days without seeing me constituted an emergency.Judging by the calm expression on his face when he glanced up from the stack of files on his desk, I already suspected the second option.“I did,” he said, setting down the pen in his hand. “Your last assignment requires discussion.”I remained beside the door, my fingers still wrapped around the strap of my bag. “My last assignment got a ninety-four.”“Did it?”I shrugged. “Well, you graded it.”He leaned back in his chair and regarded me with an expression of polite consideration th

JasmineThe faculty building emptied earlier than most parts of campus, which was exactly why Davin and I had started using his office for the occasional late-night meeting instead of making the longer drive to the studio.It was still a risk, but for almost three weeks, it had been a manageable one. We waited until the school emptied, kept our voices low, and never left together.I always walked out first, while Davin remained behind for two minutes before following by a different route. It was a small, carefully rehearsed routine that neither of us had ever needed to discuss in detail. We just understood that the slightest carelessness could turn something private into a disaster.No one had seen me slipping into his office after hours, and no one had questioned why Davin occasionally stayed later than the rest of the faculty. We had repeated the same precautions so many times that they were beginning to feel reliable, and somewhere along the way, I had started believing we were get

JasmineI pulled off my gloves and dropped them into the disposal bin, wrinkling my nose at the faint chemical smell that clung to my fingers despite the protective material. I had barely turned toward my bag when a voice sounded directly behind me.“Where did you run off to last night?”I jumped so hard that my hip struck the edge of the workbench. One hand flew to my chest as I spun around and found Ari standing there with her arms folded.“My goodness, Ari. You can’t sneak up on people like that,” I hissed. “You scared the shit out of me.”“I asked you a question,” she pressed, her lips pressed in a thin line.My fingers tightened around the edge of the bench.I had known the question was coming after slipping away from the library and spending the rest of the evening avoiding my phone; it would have been unreasonable to expect her not to notice.“I went home,” I responded as I turned back to the lab table, buying myself a few seconds to think of a follow-up lie.Her jaw tightened.

DavinI was halfway through grading the final assignment in a particularly disappointing stack when my phone pinged beside my laptop.I reached for it without much thought, expecting a reminder from Jessie or another email from a student requesting an extension after the deadline had already passed.Instead, Dean Whitmore’s name appeared on the screen.Professor Jackson, come to my office immediately. It’s urgent.My pen stilled between my fingers.Dean Whitmore rarely used the word urgent, and she never summoned faculty members without offering some indication of the reason.For several seconds, I stared at the message while the quiet unease that had settled in my chest since Jasmine told me about Jason grew heavier.I left the pen where it was, squared the papers into a neat stack, and got to my feet. It was probably nothing, I thought; maybe she wanted to talk about next semester’s budget, or a conflict in the scheduling—or perhaps another student had complained about my grading tu

Jasmine“My grandmother thinks I’m at a conference in Chicago,” Davin said as he placed two mugs of coffee on the kitchen table. “Lucas believes I’m avoiding a difficult commission. Between the two lies, I’ve managed to secure the entire weekend.”Sunlight poured through the windows behind him, warming the counter and catching the faint disorder in his hair. I had never seen his kitchen properly lit before. I usually arrived when it was dark and left before morning.Seeing him like this felt oddly personal.He wore a faded black T-shirt that had softened from years of washing and a pair of gray sweatpants that sat low on his hips. There was no carefully pressed shirt, no tie, and none of the guarded authority he carried into the lecture hall.“That’s an impressive amount of deception for one weekend,” I said.His eyes lingered on me as he sat across from me. “I thought you’d appreciate the effort.”I did, far more than I wanted to admit. There was something disarming about seeing him