I busied myself with equipment checks, trying to ignore the way my enhanced hearing picked up Archer’s voice as he chatted with other team members. He sounded perfectly normal, relaxed even, like he wasn’t currently driving his vampire professor to the brink of insanity with lust. But maybe that was his angle. Maybe he enjoyed torturing people.
“Alright, everyone gather around,” I called out, proud of how steady my voice sounded. “Today we’re going to work on advanced combinations and tactical awareness.”
The team formed a loose circle around me, and naturally, Archer positioned himself directly in my line of sight. When our eyes met, he had the audacity to give me a small, knowing smile that sent heat shooting straight to my cock.
Christ, I was fucked.
“Captain Quinn,” I said, forcing my tone to remain professional, “would you demonstrate the combination you showed us all during tryouts last week?”
“Of course, Professor.” The way he said my title, with just the slightest emphasis, made it sound almost intimate. Like he was reminding me of all the things he’d whispered in my ear when I was buried inside him.
I selected another student to spar with him, telling myself it was because I needed to maintain appropriate boundaries. The truth was, I didn’t trust myself to get within sword’s reach of him without doing something spectacularly inappropriate.
But watching him fence was almost worse than sparring with him directly. Every movement was poetry in motion, each attack and parry executed with the kind of precision that spoke to years of dedicated training. He was beautiful and deadly, and I wanted to fuck him so badly I could barely think straight.
“Excellent work,” I managed when the demonstration ended, though my voice sounded strained even to my own ears. “Now I want everyone to pair off and practice that sequence. I’ll be walking around to correct your form as you go.”
As the team scattered across the salle, Archer approached me with his mask tucked under his arm. Up close, I could see a light sheen of sweat on his neck, and the urge to lick it off nearly brought me to my knees.
“Professor, I was wondering if we could schedule some additional training sessions,” he said, his blue eyes bright with what looked like innocent academic interest. “As captain, I want to make sure I’m setting the best possible example for the team.”
The fucker knew exactly what he was doing.
“I think your current skill level is more than adequate,” I replied through gritted teeth.
“But there’s always room for improvement, isn’t there?” He stepped closer, ostensibly to avoid being overheard by the other students. “I’m very eager to learneverythingyou’re willing to teach me.”
The double entendre was so blatant I was amazed no one else seemed to notice. Or maybe they did, and I was just too distracted by the way his lips moved when he spoke to care about maintaining my cover.
“Private lessons aren’t typically offered,” I said, proud of myself for forming complete sentences.
“I understand.” His expression was perfectly innocent, but there was heat in his eyes that made my fangs ache with theurge to bite. “Though I hope you’ll reconsider. I can be very...dedicatedwhen something interests me.”
Before I could respond with something that would probably get me fired, one of the other students called out a question about footwork. I seized the excuse to escape, leaving Archer standing there with that infuriating smile still playing at the corners of his mouth.
The rest of practice passed in a haze of sexual frustration and barely contained violence. Every time Archer moved, I found myself tracking him like prey. Every laugh, every casual comment directed at other team members, made jealousy burn in my chest in a way I hadn’t experienced in centuries. What the fuck was wrong with me?
When I finally dismissed the team, I made sure to busy myself with equipment maintenance until the salle emptied. All I needed was to be alone with Archer for thirty seconds and I’d probably do something that would destroy both our lives.
But of course, he lingered.
“Professor Crowe,” he called out when the last student had left. “I think you dropped this.”
I turned to see him holding up a pen that definitely wasn’t mine, his expression the picture of helpful innocence. The salle suddenly felt much smaller with just the two of us in it.
“That’s not mine,” I said, not moving from where I stood near the equipment rack.
“Are you sure?” He walked toward me slowly, like he was approaching a skittish animal. “I could have sworn I saw you drop it.”
“Quinn.” His name came out as more of a growl than I’d intended. “What are you doing?”
“Returning your pen,” he replied, though he was close enough now that I could see the pulse beating at the base of histhroat. Close enough to smell the clean scent of his skin beneath the lingering traces of exertion.
“It’s not my fucking pen and you know that.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to keep it.” He slipped the pen into his jacket pocket, the movement bringing him even closer. “Maybe I’ll try to return it to you in class next time. Or… maybe during ourprivatelessons would be better?”
“We are not having private lessons,” I said, but my voice lacked conviction even to my own ears. The way he was looking at me, like he could see straight through all my carefully constructed defenses, made it hard to remember why this was such a bad idea.
