I am not an idiot.
Thank you.
“I—I was really just hoping you had some alone time. I’m feeling—” my gag reflex kicks up but I force myself to follow through— “I’m just feeling vulnerable right now, Professor Henn.”
Her lips part and her blurry eyes get a bit starry.
She’s drunk. Did someone spike the punch?
Christ, what am I signing up for right now?
“Syko, please call me Harriete.”
Harriete. Great. Yeah, I’m not calling her that.
Her warm palm brushes my bicep and it plants there like a fungus that’ll never leave.
The moment she swipes her card through the lock and the little green light pulses I almost consider shoving her back and keeping her out just to put some hard metal locks between her hungry eyes and my terrified cock.
“Come in, sweetie. Let’s talk.” She holds the door open with a bounce of her ass but I pull it back from her and motion her inside with a sweep of my hand.
“After you, Mrs.—” The glare she throws at me stops that rasping sentence. My gaze flickers down to her dry lips that are coated in her heavy, sour breaths. “Harriete.”
The giggle that stumbles out of her mouth is like a beastly growl threatening to disembowel me.
She dances haphazardly down the dark hall and my foot holds the door until Saint’s cool fingers slide around my wrist and his breath hits my ear. “Show her a good time, Syko Sweetie. We have it from here.” His taunting amusement is followed by a conflicting kiss against the line of my jaw that tingles through me.
The asshole.
“Fuck you. I’ll meet you at room 606 B in five minutes.”
“Five minutes. You’re better than that. At least give her something to talk about with the other faculty members.”
I’m sure she’ll have something to talk about. It just won’t be sex with a nephilim.
* * *
A kiss on the cheek and enough cauldron cookies to last me a month. That’s what sexy plans Harriete Henn had in store for me. She’s a weirdo, but she’s a kind weirdo. Even if she does have filthy fucking thoughts running blatantly through her mind. Thoughts she whispered like weird, dirty foreplay while she added honey to my mug of milk. Milk I didn’t touch because of the suggestive way she stirred and murmured over it.
“Make sure you don’t eat them all at once,” she says with another giggle that scurries down the dark hall as she lingers for a long, long time in her doorway.
“I won’t.”I won’t eat your love spell cookies at-fucking-all.
I nod to her, gripping the metal tin and glancing down the hall at the stairwell.
It’s been at least fifteen minutes.
What if Izara’s not okay?
What if Phoenix couldn’t get to her?
What if I wasted too much time flirting with Harriete Henn instead of finding my girlfriend?
Another dry kiss scrapes across my cheek and I do my best not to flinch back from her.
“Thank you,” I stride down the hall away from her and when I look back, her gaze lifts and darts dramatically up to my face.
And my stomach feels queasy all over again.
