He cocks his head to one side as his brow furrows. Just taking in all my idiocy, I think.
“Look, let’s cut to the chase. You require me to help you; I like to be paid. Don’t tell me you don’t need me when your grades are this unsatisfactory. So, tell me now why you are failing, and tell me honestly. I can then tell you exactly how I will help you and get you through the rest of this year. And if you don’t listen to me, and you fail, well, you don’t want to know how I punish those kinds of students.” My eyes widened at his threat. Was this guy for real?
As he waits for my approval, or maybe my argument, he folds his arms and rocks back on the leather chair. I want to smack the smirk off him. I don’t, of course I don’t.
Biting the inside of my cheek hard, I take a deep breath. “You don’t even know me. While I will take the help since my professor recommended you so highly, I’m only using you until I pass this next assessment. You don’t even know me, and you already don’t like me. Don’t expect me to be pleasant to you in these study sessions either.” My chest heaves, and a thin sweat clings to my neck as I wait for his reaction.
Blue eyes sparkled, lips turned up slightly in what looked like a genuine smile. His lips were plump and full. I fantasise about what they might taste like. Knocking that thought loose with a shake of my head, I question what is wrong with me. Illness? Act of delusion?
“Just listen to me and you’ll make it,” he sighs, looking almost sympathetic to my situation. Where has the tattooed bad boy act gone?
As I finally nod in agreement, he immediately shifts to a businesslike demeanour. We came up with a schedule of times and places to meet at over the next week. Then we pack up to leave the professor’s intimate office.
He calls my name as I am heading for the exit. My stomach flutters as I turn to see him studying me with his brow furrowed.
“You’re not what I expected,” he confesses before returning his eyes to his bag, which he’s stuffing books into.
“Yeah, you’re not what I expected either,” I observe as I struggle to tear my eyes away from his body and leave. Despite telling myself otherwise, I know I’ll be thinking of him later.
Chapter 2
Arnie
“Shit,” I kiss my teeth as an offering to my tongue, which I’ve just burnt. Blowing on my flat white from one of the on-campus coffee carts, I head to my TA job. It doesn’t pay great, but Simmons helps me with tutoring jobs which helps.
Simmons, a professor here at the uni, and I go way back. Having known each other through other avenues before both working here. I’m not his TA, nor would I want to be. He’s given me the file on a new potential boy, but after meeting him, I worry Simmons has lost it at the ripe old age of 36.
While he has sent me students many times in the past, it’s usually only ever for academic purposes. He has never found me one that is a current student at the university, which he thinks could use both my academic and extracurricular expertise.
No. Usually, those looking for the latter are submissive boys well versed in dark rooms where punishments are encouraged.
Occasionally, they just require a couple of sessions at the club to help get their grades up or need to get out of their heads before a big event at work. Then there are one’s like Jamie who require more.
Jamie differs from those I’m used to. Not only is he a current student of Simmons, but he is also, from information, my friend has passed along to me, straight and not in the kink scene. Half the battle will now be finding out compatibility with one anotherbefore I can even consider corrections and punishments for the lone star that I shared a moment with.
Those grey eyes were washed with loneliness. He couldn’t take them off me despite his disdain for my presence in that tight squeeze of an office. A tingle filters through my veins. How I would love to put him in his place if he let me. To put leather to his smooth creamy skin.
Jamie seems to fail at life, too. No friends, no family, a late-night job and no roommate. An invisible enigma that’s studying for a Pure Mathematics degree. For what job he thinks he’s getting with, that is anyone’s guess.
Not that I’m judging, much.
We arranged to meet at the library after office hours, since we both have classes until then. I asked him to go to the fourth floor, as there are cubicles hidden at the back, which are great for private tutoring sessions.
Not that I bring a lot of my tutoring students here, only the ones that require that extra bit of help. I look at my watch as I make my way out of my last TA class. Students mill around the green despite the cooler weather. It’s less busy as I approach the granite library steps, where Jamie is lingering about outside, looking around in disarray. His long lean arms are wrapped around himself like a blanket, his pearly front teeth worrying his lower lip.
To be that hot and unable to dress in a way that matches it. It was immoral to have such potential and be wasting it.
His shoulder pokes out the top of a black baggy t-shirt that goes down to his knees. He must be 6 feet himself compared to my 6 foot 4, so it makes me wonder what size he’s wearing if it’s that length of it on him.
His messy curly hair is a dirty blonde, pulled back in a rough bun. Curls are still flapping in the breeze, untamed. He wears glasses, but not the sexy kind either. Just thick, tragic ones thatbelong to a cartoon math major and do nothing for his high cheekbones and long lashes.
It’s a wonder he’s ever had a girlfriend or boyfriend.
The first step is to get further details about why he’s failing, and then from there he needs a makeover and a social life. It’s clear he has low self-esteem.
I take the stone steps to where he’s standing. He jumps and steps back when he sees me. Aware I can look intimidating I have matching tattooed sleeves, and I’m broad and tall. Still, he makes it look like he’s terrified I’m going to hurt him.
Good start.
