ELI

Maya and I barely made it out of Carter’s office before she started.

“So.”

I side-eyed her. “So, what?”

Her grin was wicked. “You. Him. Alone. Office. Dark suit. That jawline.”

I groaned. “Maya—”

“Don’t ‘Maya’ me. I saw your face when you walked out. You looked like you just got caught watching porn at the library.”

I covered my face with my hand. “Why are you like this?”

“Because you make it too easy, sunshine.” She linked her arm through mine, leaning in close. “Come on, spill. Did he say something dirty?”

I nearly choked. “What? No!”

“Uh-huh. That’s a yes face if I ever saw one.”

I scowled. “There is no ‘yes face.’”

“There’s definitely a yes face. Yours is red.”

“I’m not red.”

“You’re tomato soup, babe.”

I tugged my arm free. “It wasn’t anything. He told me to organize papers.”

“Oh wow,” she gasped dramatically. “So sexy. Papers. God, I’m wet already.”

“Maya.”

“What? You don’t think office sex is hot?”

My brain short-circuited. “We are not talking about office sex—”

“—with Professor Vale.” She waggled her brows.

I wanted the ground to swallow me. “He’s cold. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t even smile.”

“Exactly. Ice daddy vibes. Don’t you watch TV? Cold men are the hottest. Brooding. Tragic pasts. Silent in bed until—”

“Shut up,” I hissed, grabbing her wrist. Students were passing us in the hall.

Which was exactly when she leaned closer and whispered, way too loud: “Bet he’s packing serious dick.”

Three heads turned.

Someone snorted.

I died inside. “MAYA!”

She cackled, completely unbothered. “Relax, sunshine. They’ll forget.”

I tugged her down another corridor, muttering under my breath. “I’m never walking with you again.”

“Yes, you are,” she sing-songed. “You love me.”

“Unfortunately,” I snapped, still red.

But no matter how much I denied it, my brain wouldn’t shut up.

Not about Maya’s filthy jokes. Not about the whispers in the hall.

Not about the way Carter had looked at me.

Cold. Sharp. Like he could see straight through me.

I told myself he didn’t care. That he was like that with everyone.

But then I remembered the jacket. The heat of it over my shoulders. The way it smelled like him.

And I hated myself a little for wishing he had said something dirty.

By the time I got home, I was dead.

Not literally. But close. My body was a sack of bricks, my brain a fried circuit board.

I dropped my bag by the door, kicked my shoes off, and collapsed face-first on the bed.

“Five minutes,” I mumbled into the pillow. “Just five.”

But the second my eyes shut, the world shifted.

It was his office. Papers scattered across the desk.

And me—on his lap again.

Just like before.

Only this time, he didn’t let me go.

His hand locked firm on my waist, keeping me pressed against him. His chest solid against mine, his eyes dark, unflinching.

“Running again?” His voice was low, dangerous.

My throat tightened. “I—no, I just—”

“Liar.” His hand slid higher, up my back, pulling me closer. “You always run.”

“I’m not—”

“Then stay.”

My breath hitched. His lips brushed my ear. “Stay, Eli.”

Heat. Everywhere. My pulse hammered. My body betrayed me, leaning in, wanting.

His mouth curved, cold and sharp. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

I gasped.

I woke up drenched.

Sheets tangled, skin sweaty, breath ragged. My hand clutched the pillow like I’d been holding onto him.

“Oh my God.” I buried my face. “No. Nope. Absolutely not.”

It was a dream. A stupid, disgusting, hot-as-hell dream.

Of him.

I groaned into the pillow. “I hate myself.”

Before I could recover, my phone rang on the nightstand.

Maya. Of course.

I fumbled it to my ear. “Hello?” My voice was hoarse.

She cackled instantly. “Oh my God, why do you sound like you just ran a marathon? Or like—you know.”

“Maya.”

Her laugh got louder. “Sunshine, were you dreaming about Professor Tall-Dark-And-Frozen?”

I shot upright. “WHAT?!”

“Your voice says it all,” she teased. “I knew it. You totally were.”

“I was not!”

“You so were. Don’t lie to me, Eli Rivera. I know your tones.”

“Maya—”

“Bet he was pinning you against a desk. Or maybe against the chalkboard? Oh my God, yes—‘Bend over, student.’”

“MAYA!”

She was wheezing with laughter now. “Don’t hang up—”

Click.

I tossed the phone down, face flaming.

I flopped back into bed, groaning. “I need therapy.”

But no matter how hard I tried, Carter’s voice lingered in my head.

Stay, Eli.

And it terrified me how much I wanted it.

Morning came way too fast.

I dragged myself out of bed like a zombie, hair sticking up in every possible direction, brain still fried from the dream. (Yes, that dream. No, I don’t want to talk about it.)

Coffee. Lots of it. That was the only reason I made it to campus without collapsing.

By the time I sank into my seat in lecture, Maya was already there, tapping her pen like she’d been waiting to pounce.

She leaned in. “So. Did you sleep well?”

I gave her a look. “Don’t start.”

Her grin was evil. “Oh, I’m starting. You hung up on me last night, sunshine. Rude. So. Tell me. Did Tall-Dark-and-Frozen do dirty things in your dreams?”

“Maya.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Please, I’m begging you. Stop.”

She poked my arm. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“You so are. Look at you. Red as a tomato.”

I flicked her forehead.

“Ow!” She rubbed it dramatically. “Abuse. I’ll sue.”

“Good. Maybe you’ll shut up long enough to pass this class.”

She stuck her tongue out but finally turned back to her notes. Blessed silence.

For about five minutes.

We headed straight to his class after.

The air in the lecture hall felt heavier somehow, like everyone sensed something. Carter stood at the front, writing on the board in clean, sharp strokes. His suit was dark, crisp, perfectly tailored. He didn’t even have to try to look intimidating — he just was.

I dropped into my seat, trying not to look.

Maya shot me a side glance. Then another.

“What,” I hissed under my breath.

She smirked. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re drooling.”

I flicked her forehead again.

“OW! Stop assaulting me!”

“Then stop talking.”

Before she could reply, Carter turned. “Settle down.”

The room went silent instantly.

His eyes scanned the rows — cold, unreadable — until they landed on me.

My stomach dropped.

“Mr. Rivera,” he said. “Stand.”

My chair scraped back loudly. I stood, heart racing. “Yes, sir?”

He tilted his head, like he was already bored. “Explain the doctrine of promissory estoppel. Apply it to Central London Property Trust Ltd v High Trees House Ltd.”

I froze.

Half the class turned to look at me.

I wanted to sink through the floor.

I cleared my throat. “Uh… promissory estoppel is when a promise is enforceable by law, even if it’s not supported by consideration. Because the promisee relied on it to their detriment.”

Carter didn’t blink. “And High Trees?”

I gripped the edge of the desk, forcing myself to think. “During WWII, the landlord agreed to reduce the rent. When the war ended, he tried to claim back the full rent. The court held that he couldn’t go back on his promise because the tenants relied on it.”

The words rushed out too fast, but they made sense.

Carter studied me. Silence stretched.

Then—his lips curved. Slight. Barely there. But real.

A smirk.

“Correct,” he said finally. “Sit.”

I sat fast, pulse racing, ears burning.

Maya leaned in, whispering, “Oh my God, he smirked at you.”

“Shut up,” I hissed.

She grinned. “No wonder you’re sweating.”

“I hate you.”

But the truth? That smirk stuck in my head like glue.

The rest of class blurred. All I could see was the way his mouth curved, sharp and knowing, like he’d been testing me. Like he enjoyed watching me squirm.

When the bell rang, everyone scrambled to leave.

I tried to follow, but his voice cut through the room.

“Rivera. Stay.”

I froze.

Maya gave me the world’s filthiest wink. “Have fun, sunshine.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, but she was already gone.

The room emptied. Silence settled.

I clutched my bag tighter and walked down to the front.

He didn’t look up immediately, just stacked papers with sharp precision. Finally, he said, “You have assistant duties.”

I swallowed. “Right. Of course.”

His eyes flicked up, pinning me in place. “Don’t look so nervous. You passed Richards’ test. You should be confident.”

“I’m not nervous,” I lied.

His brow arched faintly. “You’re stuttering again.”

“I am not!”

“You are.”

My face flamed.

The hallway to his office was too quiet. Every footstep echoed. My pulse was loud in my ears, like it wanted to give me away.

Carter walked ahead of me, crisp, straight-backed, precise. He didn’t say a word. He never said a word unless it mattered.

Halfway down, he stopped at the coffee machine.

“Do you want one?” he asked, already sliding in a coin.

I blinked. He was actually asking me? “Uh—yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

He pressed the buttons. One black for himself. One with milk for me. He handed me the cup.

I took it carefully. “Thanks.”

He just nodded, like it was nothing.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, me sipping nervously, him looking like he owned the building.

By the time we reached his office, my nerves were on overload. I was so focused on not tripping, not spilling, not embarrassing myself—

That I bumped straight into him.

The coffee tipped.

Right onto his shirt.

“Oh my God!” I yelped, jerking back. “I’m so sorry!”

Hot liquid stained across his chest, dripping down the perfect white cotton.

He looked down, calm as ever. “Relax.”

“I just ruined your shirt—”

“You didn’t.” He was already shrugging out of his blazer, unbuttoning his shirt like this was routine.

My mouth went dry.

He slipped the shirt off, and—holy shit.

Muscle. Sharp lines. Tattoos curling across his chest and down his arms, dark ink on pale skin.

I froze. Completely froze.

He pulled a fresh shirt from the cabinet, casual, like stripping in front of me wasn’t ending my entire existence.

I forced myself to breathe. Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Don’t stare.

I stared.

He caught me.

His eyes flicked up, catching mine mid-gawk. One brow lifted, slow, deliberate.

“You done?”

I choked. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t staring!”

“You were.” His voice was flat.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were.”

I turned away fast, clutching my coffee cup like it could save me.

We sat down after that. Or, well, he sat down. I was still trying to remember how to breathe.

Documents were stacked in front of me. I focused hard, trying to drown in the words. Contracts. Citations. Deadlines. Anything but the image of ink curling across his ribs.

Silence filled the office, heavy but sharp. He typed. I scribbled. Paper rustled.

Then his pen rolled off the desk.

We both reached.

Our hands brushed.

Heat shot up my arm like electricity.

I jerked back instantly, knocking my own folder onto the floor. “Sorry—sorry!”

He picked up the pen calmly. “You react like I burned you.”

I swallowed hard. “You—you startled me.”

“I didn’t move.”

“Still.”

His eyes pinned me, cold, unreadable. “You’re jumpy.”

I hugged my notebook tighter. “You’re… you. That’s why.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You.” I gestured vaguely at his entire existence. “Tall. Cold. Covered in tattoos. Staring all the time. You’re… intimidating.”

His mouth curved slightly. “Good.”

“Good?!”

“It keeps people focused.”

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. “You’re impossible.”

He leaned back in his chair, pen between his fingers. “And yet, here you are. Still working in my office.”

I glared at him, heat creeping up my neck again. “Only because I have to.”

He didn’t reply. Just smirked again, faint, sharp, and went back to his laptop.

And that stupid smirk stayed in my head the rest of the day.

ELI

I tried. God knows I tried to focus.

But my brain wasn’t working. Words swam on the page, legal citations blurred together, and all I could think about was how his tattoos looked in the light.

I shook my head, scribbling something down. Focus, Eli. Focus.

Then I hit a case I couldn’t make sense of. The paragraph tangled around itself, and my notes were just question marks.

I groaned softly and pushed back my chair. “Um… Professor?”

He didn’t look up. “What.”

“I don’t get this part.” I walked over, sliding the file toward him. “See? The way they worded it doesn’t make sense to me.”

He took the paper, scanning fast. “You missed the exception clause. Look here.” He tapped the margin.

I leaned closer. His cologne was sharp, clean, and expensive. My pulse spiked.

“Ohhh.” I nodded. “That makes more sense.”

I turned to go back to my seat—

And my foot caught on the chair leg.

I stumbled forward.

Strong fingers caught my wrist, pulling me back before I face-planted.

Straight into his lap.

Again.

“Shit!” I gasped.

My whole body crashed into his, chest to chest, thigh pressing right against him.

He groaned lowly, probably from the force.

But the sound shot fire straight through me. Heat curled in my stomach. My skin prickled.

I froze. My heart hammered so hard it hurt.

His hand stayed on my waist. Firm. Steady.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Then his voice, low, dangerous: “You really like falling on me, don’t you?”

My face went nuclear. “I—I didn’t mean to!”

“Twice now.” His lips curved faintly. “Starting to look intentional.”

“It’s not!” I scrambled to my feet, words tumbling. “God, you’re—”

He stood too, smooth, unruffled. He pulled a new document from the stack and slid it toward me.

“Review this one.”

I blinked. “Right now?”

“Yes.” He stepped closer, leaning down just enough for his mouth to brush near my ear. “Read every line. Carefully.”

His breath was warm. His voice was deep. The words sank straight through me.

I shivered. My knees went weak.

I grabbed the file like it was a lifeline. “O-okay. Sure. Yes. Reviewing. Right now.”

I stumbled back toward my desk, nearly tripping again. My face was on fire.

He sat calmly, opening another folder, like he hadn’t just whispered sin into my ear.

I lasted thirty seconds before my pen slipped out of my hand. My thoughts were gone. Completely gone.

I stood so fast my chair screeched. “I—I should go. I just remembered—I have to—uh—something.”

His eyes flicked up, cool, sharp. “Running again?”

I stammered. “I’m not running. I’m just—leaving.”

He smirked faintly. “Whatever helps you sleep.”

My entire body buzzed. I bolted for the door, clutching the file to my chest.

Maya was going to eat me alive.

********

CARTER

He ran.

Bolted out of my office like the room was on fire.

I almost laughed. Almost.

God, the boy did things to me.

That flustered stutter. Those wide eyes. The way he froze every time my hand so much as brushed his.

It had taken everything in me not to pull him closer when he landed on my lap again. Not to crush his mouth under mine. Not to fuck the shyness out of him until all that trembling turned into begging.

My jaw clenched. My hand curled around the pen I was holding.

Pathetic. What the hell was wrong with me.

That was Liam’s ex. A student. Young. Too young.

A child.

I pushed back from the desk abruptly and stood. The air in the office was too heavy. I needed to move.

When I opened the door, I stopped short.

Eli was still standing there.

Back pressed to the wall, file clutched in his arms like a shield. Eyes wide when they landed on me.

I exhaled slowly. “Get in. I’ll give you a ride.”

His mouth opened, closed. “Uh—I don’t want to bother you—”

“You already are,” I cut in. “Get in.”

He hesitated another beat, then nodded, shuffling toward the car.

We drove in silence.

He sat stiff in the passenger seat, staring out the window like I was about to eat him alive.

I almost smirked. “Relax. I’m not going to bite.”

His head whipped toward me. “You keep saying that.”

“Because you keep looking like you’re waiting for it.”

His face went red instantly. “I’m not!”

“Good.”

He crossed his arms, muttering under his breath. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm.”

The car settled into quiet again. My grip tightened on the wheel, thoughts darker than I wanted to admit.

Then my phone rang through the car system.

The name flashing on the screen made my gut tighten.

“Sorry,” I muttered, answering.

Eli blinked. “It’s fine—”

“Vale,” I said into the speaker.

The voice on the other end was sharp. Urgent.

I listened, jaw tightening, eyes on the road. “Understood. I’ll be there in ten.”

The line cut.

Eli looked at me nervously. “Everything okay?”

“No.” I flicked on the blinker, making a sharp turn.

He gripped the seat. “Where are we going?”

“Detour.”

“Detour?”

“My law firm.”

His brows shot up. “Right now? Wait, you have a law firm?”

“Yes.”

“What about me?”

“You’ll wait in the car.”

He frowned instantly. “I can come inside—”

“No.” My tone was final. “Stay here.”

“But—”

“Eli.” I glanced at him, sharp. “Stay. In. The. Car.”

He pressed his lips together, mutinous. “I don’t like being told what to do.”

“Too bad.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not my boss outside class.”

“Technically, I’m your boss everywhere.”

He sputtered. “You—you’re—God, you’re insufferable.”

“Good. Keeps you obedient.”

His jaw dropped. “Obedient? I’m not—”

I parked in front of the firm and cut the engine. My voice dropped low, final. “Stay here, Rivera. I won’t repeat myself.”

He glared, gripping the file tighter.

I didn’t wait for his reply.

I walked inside.

The second I stepped into the firm, the atmosphere shifted.

Every head turned. Every voice silenced.

“Good evening, Mr Vale.”

“Mr. Vale.”

“Sir.”

They bowed their heads, moved aside. The path to my office cleared instantly.

Power wasn’t loud. It was quiet. And they all understood exactly who I was.

I didn’t acknowledge them. I didn't need to. The elevator doors slid open, and I went up.

When I walked into my office, I already knew something was wrong.

The air smelled of copper.

Dante was there. My PA. My best friend. His fists bloodied, shirt streaked crimson. His mismatched eyes—one green, one blue—were sharp.

On the floor lay Brandon Pierce.

Politician’s son. Spoiled. Untouchable.

Or so he thought.

He spat blood, grinning up at me. “About time you showed up, Vale. Tell your mutt to keep his hands off me.”

Dante’s jaw flexed, knuckles twitching for another blow.

I didn’t look at him. I walked to my chair, sat down, leaned forward, pressing my palms together under my chin.

Then I dropped my hands and slapped Brandon across the face. Hard.

The crack echoed.

Blood smeared across his lip. His grin faltered.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” My voice was calm. Too calm.

Brandon sneered. “So what? Kid was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not my fault.”

My jaw tightened.

I hit him again. Harder.

His head snapped to the side. He cursed, coughing blood.

“You killed his future,” I said coldly. “Seven years old. Paralyzed because of you. Do you feel big, Pierce? Do you feel powerful?”

He glared, defiant. “My father will clean it up. He always does. You’ll win the case like you always do, Vale. That’s why you’re here, right? To fix my shit?”

I stood and walked around the desk.

My hand closed around his throat.

He choked, eyes widening, both hands clawing at my grip.

I leaned down, voice low, emotionless. “I told you to lay low after the last case. I told you if you touched another life, I would end you myself.”

He gasped. “You… you wouldn’t…”

My grip tightened. His face turned red. His legs kicked weakly.

Dante didn’t move. He only watched, silent approval in his eyes.

Brandon’s struggles weakened. His eyes rolled back.

At the last second, I released him.

He collapsed to the floor, coughing, gagging, desperate for air.

I stepped back, smoothing down my cuffs like nothing happened. “Clean this shit up, Dante.”

“Already on it,” Dante muttered, wiping his hands on a rag. His gaze flicked to me. “He’s not worth prison time.”

I grabbed the glass of water from my desk. Threw it hard at the wall. It shattered, fragments scattering across the floor.

My chest rose and fell once. Twice. Then I straightened, my expression back to steel.

“You think your father can save you again?” I asked Brandon coldly.

His eyes flickered with fear. Just for a second.

“Get him out of my sight,” I told Dante.

Dante smirked darkly. “Gladly.”

He hauled Brandon up by his collar, dragging him toward the door.

I rubbed my throat absently, forcing the tension out of my muscles.

Control. Always control.

But then I turned.

And froze.

Eli stood at the doorway.

His eyes were wide, mouth open, face pale. He had seen everything.

For once, my mask almost slipped.

Almost.

He blinked at me, stunned, voice breaking the silence.

“Well… fuck.”

ELI

I stood there in shock, digesting what I had just seen. Did Carter just try to strangle a young boy? I flinched when the sound of glass colliding with the wall and shattering rang through my ears.

“Get him out of my sight” he said to his other big looking colleague.

I felt my face go pale as the man pulled the boy by the collar.

Carter whispered to himself slowly, taking deep breaths, until he turned to my direction.

He froze when he saw me, like he had just seen a ghost.

“Well…. fuck” I muttered.

I could see the anger increase in his eyes. I should have listened.

“Didn't I say you should stay in the fucking car?” he whispered but it sounded like he was yelling.

“I…I…. I thought..” I couldn't make up the words to say. I didn't have time to mentally scold myself for not listening to him.

He didn't say anything, he rushed past me, his shoulder colliding with mine and walked away from the scene.

“I’m so sorry” I muttered as I hopped into his car. It was a bold step because I assumed he would throw me out.

He didn't reply. He just started the engine and the car got in motion.

The entire ride to my apartment was silent. I felt like he hated me now and the thought of that hurt me more than it should.

The car parked in front of my building and I hesitated a bit before I made an attempt to get down from the car.

“Get out” he said lowly.

I gulped. My throat was dry but I understood it was my fault. I should have listened.

I walked through the doors of my apartment and I was already exhausted, mentally and physically.

I wondered if Carter would forgive me. My mind went to the young boy at his firm. What could he possibly have done and why did he look so terrified of Carter.

I walked into the bathroom to wash off the day’s shenanigans. My shirt went off first, then I began to undo the buckle of my belt and take off my trousers when I felt my dick twitch in my pants.

Fuck no. Now was not the time.

I groaned as I dragged myself to the shower. There was nothing more than I could think of except Carter. The way I fell into his lap and the way his hand rested on my waist. I would be lying if I said it hadn't turned me on. Only for me to ruin it this night just because I could sit in the fucking car.

As the shower droplets hit my skin, my dick became harder. The feeling of the warm wet drops turned me on even more. I couldn't help it. I began to stroke myself down there slowly and carefully. Images of Carter being naked filled my mind.

I imagined myself sliding down from his lap and digging my head between them. Having his long form in my throat. I stroked myself faster as the images in my head turned me on even more.

What the hell was I doing? This was Carter Vale, my professor. Liam’s elder brother.

I stoked harder and faster, this time, images of me riding Carter’s cock filled my head. I couldn't help it anymore and jets of cum began to splurge out of me. Once I was done, I quickly rinsed off the nastiness and walked out of the shower.

I picked up my phone to see that Maya had called me. I called her back quickly.

“Hey”

“Hey, so how was the date with the professor” she cooed.

“It wasn't a date Maya” I groaned. I had texted Maya earlier when I went to Carter’s office to tell her I wouldn't be free for the rest of the day.

“It sounded like one”

“Well it wasn't”

“Okay.. So what did you and hot professor do?”

“We didn't do anything much, I helped him grade a few papers..”

“And….???”

“And nothing Maya. I graded papers and he offered me a ride home” I left out the part about stopping at his firm and witnessing the darkest side of our professor.

“That's all??” she asked “You didn't fuck each other?”

“No”

“You didn't even share a kiss?”

“No Maya, I don't even think he would think of me that way”

“But you sure do think of him that way huh?” I could imagine her winking. Maya had a way of teasing and it always worked.

“Maya!!”

“What?” she whined.

“Stop it. You don't see me talking about your love life like that” she let out a loud laugh.

“You must be joking”

“You definitely don't remember teasing me back in first year huh. Well that's a story for another day” I was definitely glad she didn't pester on the topic. But it was a funny one. Let's say Maya’s first college crush was a big flop.

“I just wanted to get some tea about hot professor but I guess you're holding back now” she added.

“No I'm not. There's really no tea”

“If you say so”

“Good night Maya”

“Good night Eli” and with that she ended the call.

I stared at the phone in my hand and an idea popped into my head, it wasnt the most brilliant but I was going to do it anyway.

I scrolled to find Carter’s number and I typed a full on apology paragraph. I wanted him to know I did not mean to disobey or interrupt him at his firm.

The moment I clicked the send button, my chest started to hurt. I wondered if he would even reply.

Within a minute, he had read the message. I could see the three dots that showed he was typing but yet nothing.

And just then my phone buzzed in my hand.