Page 66 of Pink Ink

“You’re dismissed when I say you’re dismissed, Miss Sinaga.”

I shiver at his deep tenor, core tightening with need. If I don’t get out of here, I’ll be the mistake he thinks I am.

“This is a bad idea.” It’s barely loud enough for him to hear.

“That’s the thing about us. We both like bad ideas.”

He stays there for a beat. Watching me. Studying me. Pushing his leg against my core one last time so he can see me squirm. Then he edges back, rolls his chair to him, and sits in front of me, close enough that I can’t close my legs with his in the way.

“If you want to leave, then I trust you’re familiar with where the door is.”

I should.

In the next five seconds, I need to get my ass off this couch and out of this room, because nothing good can come from this. Maddox is myprofessor.

If I screw up, my scholarship is gone. My future takes a hit. My hope of knowing my family will be decimated.

But I still don’t run. God knows why I stay exactly where I am, staring at the man who’s been setting off fireworks in my stomach. Maddox could cause everything to come crashing down, yet I chew my bottom lip, imagining what type of kisser he’d be. Whether he’d be a generous lover. If he’d keep looking at me like he’s obsessed. Sealing whateverthisis would destroy my psyche.

I’ve never been the type for one-night stands. I’ve already lost my parents, and I have no interest in losing anyone else I care about. Sleeping with him will make me more attached when I already shouldn’t be.

But I want to feel wanted. Cared for. Like I’m the only person in the room and the only one who matters, and right now, he’s looking at me like he can give me those things. Even if it’s only for a few minutes. Even if none of it is real. I still want it.

He takes my silence for an answer.

“Give me your foot,” he orders, leaning back in his chair.

How is he so calm right now? I feel like I’m about to explode.

Inhaling sharply, I squeeze my legs together, knocking his knee in the process.

“You can’t touch me anymore.” If he does, I’ll fall too far, too fast.

“I won’t,” he promises.

We both need a line between us.

I swallow, focusing on him to check that he’s not about to shift gears on me again. There’s a heavy pause before I do as he asks, cautiously raising my knee-high boot up into his waiting hand. He rests my heel against his knee, and his hand slides up my calf to the top of the boot.

Right about now, I’m wishing we never made the rule. I’d kill to feel his skin against mine.

Green eyes stay fixed on me as he leisurely glides the zipper down, one hand kept firmly beneath the back of my knee. Achingly close to touching me. Painfully near the invisible line in the sand that’s supposed to stop me from losing it.

We haven’t done anything, and I’m already panting. He hasn’t touched me, and I already know I’ll never be the same.

He sets the boot beside the couch. The muscles in my stomach coil tighter with each inch he unzips, and my body melts as he carefully places my foot on the armrest. The same ritual is repeated with my other boot, and when he moves my leg to the side, the hem of my dress falls to my hips to give him a clear view of my black cotton panties.

It peeks through the tights. Blending into the lace to paint a pretty picture just for him—and a pretty picture it must be, because his eyes turn ravenous when he sees it. Time seems to pause. He does nothing but stare at me. Gaze darting from my core, to my chest, to my face, then back like he can’t decide which part of me he’s going to consume first.

This is nothing like all the other times I’ve had sex. They’ve never held even a modicum of the heat burning between us and in my veins. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel like this.

“Take your tights off.”

My throat constricts. It feels second nature to comply even though our relationship has been built on resistance. I lift my hips to shimmy the thin material down, but he stops me before I make it past my thighs.

“Slowly.”

Blood roars in my ears. I take a deep breath. Hesitantly, I hook my thumbs into the band and ease the material down my legs so he catches every inch of skin that I’m feeding him.