Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 234281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1171(@200wpm)___ 937(@250wpm)___ 781(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 234281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1171(@200wpm)___ 937(@250wpm)___ 781(@300wpm)
"Well, you missed the best part unfortunately, but I'll do my best to recap. Firstly—-" Lars nodded towards Pepper, who had just vacated her seat and flounced off in the professor's direction, schedule request form in hand. "Bitch got schooled. Hard."
The words had her choking, more so when the other student went on to add, "She tried to make light of what happened, but Professor de Graaf wasn't buying any of her B.S. She got a citation on the spot, and a warning that the next time she ever so much as looked at your direction the wrong way, she would be asked to drop the class or be graded an automatic F."
Diana's jaw had dropped by the time Lars finished speaking. "I missed all that?"
"There was also the part the professor invited me to be your knight in shining armor," Lars joked.
"You mean my babysitter," Diana tried to tease back, and her baby step in socializing was rewarded with Lars turning a little red in the ears.
Schubert started playing from the PA system, and Lars appeared visibly disappointed at finding out that their class had officially ended. "See you next class I guess?"
"See you." She managed another awkward smile before turning away, and as she reached for her bag, it was then she saw the request form she had yet to fill out.
A wild, crazy germ of an idea struck her, and Diana's heart thundered against her chest.
Could she? Should she? Would she?
Only one way to find out, Diana thought, and taking her pen up, she started scribbling.
It was around ten in the evening and Diana was about to hit the sack when a system-generated message from Helder Meer's registrar arrived at her inbox.
Subject: Schedule for Thesis Consultation
Dear Ms. Diana Leventis,
Your requested schedule for thesis consultation for Novel Therapy under Professor Matthijs de Graaf has been approved.
Tuesday 0500 - 0700
Friday 2100 - 2300
Diana unconsciously pressed a hand to her chest. Ad Altiora Tendo for the win.
Him
THE PROFESSOR WAS GETTING used to cursing his stupidity.
Consternation struck him the moment the system sent his confirmation slips out to the wild. He had never been the type to second-guess himself, but ever since that girl happened—-
Matthijs raked a hand through his hair.
Had it really been only a week since he met her?
Necessity had made him a creature of habit, with every minute of his day accounted for. And he had been fine with that. Until - again - she happened.
For the entire week now, he had been doing things out of character. Pleasuring himself in front of a student. Saying fucking sorry. And his latest insanity? Actually saying yes to meeting her on hours they would be least supervised...and anything could happen.
After a discomfitingly sleepless night (or despite it in this case), the professor still woke at exactly a quarter to five on a cloudy Sunday morning. It was his least favorite day of the week, but he had long learned to make do.
His morning routine took up ninety minutes of his time, followed by an hour's session at his personal gym. After this was desk toil: assignments and essays to grade, correspondence to reply to, and journals to read and analyze.
Seminars and conferences were supposed to take up the remaining hours of the day, but there were rare occasions when the rest of the world refused to cooperate. This week's Sunday was such a day, with most of his professional acquaintances opting to honor Sabbath the way the Lord meant to, thus leaving his calendar glaringly empty.
With nothing to keep him from dwelling on his fuck-ups, the professor found himself brooding over the latest cause of disturbance in his otherwise orderly life. Diana had sent him a text message last night, thanking him for approving her schedule request. It was, they both knew, also an invitation. To flirt. Play sexual games. Stay fucking connected.
And fuck yes, but the invitation had worked, and it had him typing as fast as he could.
A thank-you text won't cut it. I want you here with me, on my lap, your pussy impaled on my dick.
That was what he had typed.
But what he ended up sending was: You're welcome.
Two words that were supposed to be the right thing to do, but it sure hadn't felt right, and it still didn't, with the silence from her end driving him crazy and making his Sundays even more intolerable than they usually were.
What if his rather impersonal reply had her entertaining stupid thoughts? What if he had hurt her without meaning to, driven her to someone else's arms, like that boy Lars?
Too many goddamn what-ifs, but he somehow managed to control himself from doing anything stupid.
Sinning, at the very least, could wait until Monday.
Her
DIANA COULDN'T BELIEVE what Bernie was saying.
Sick? The professor had called in sick?
Looking around, she saw that the rest of the class appeared as bewildered as she was, none of them able to picture any kind of illness daring to befall on someone as intimidatingly and vibrantly virile as the professor.