Chapter 15: Voyeur: Chapter 15

OAKLYN

“Are you heading out, Oaklyn?” Mr. Erikson asked me.

“Not quite yet. I’m going to swing by Dr. Pierce’s office and see if he needs anything from me before I go.”

“Okay. Thanks for all your help today.”

“No problem. I’m just lucky I’m not the one doing the lab this week. Looks brutal.”

We’d spent the afternoon setting up the physics lab for an advanced class this week. Just in case I wasn’t sure before that I was in the right program, writing up all the equations with weird symbols and prepping the materials, I was sure now. Physics was bananas.

“I’m sure you’d knock it out of the park,” Mr. Erikson said with a chuckle.

“I appreciate your confidence.”

“Any time. Have a good night, Oaklyn.”

I walked down the hall toward the main office and found Donna’s seat empty. Then I looked at the clock and saw it was already after six. I hadn’t realized it was so late.

Hopefully Dr. Pierce hadn’t left either, otherwise I’d stayed for nothing. I headed toward his office and saw the light shining out from the half-open door.

I peeked in and found his dark head bent over his desk.

He was writing on a paper with red pen, and I could only

assume he was grading. Beside the paper he was working on, there was a perfectly placed stack of papers and another red pen sitting lined up with a blue one. I’d never known someone to be so anal about lining objects up.

Sometimes I’d find him straightening Donna’s desk or moving an office supply less than a quarter of an inch to perfect it.

I rapped my knuckles on the door before entering. His head popped up, and I was met with his Clark Kent glasses.

When he saw it was me, he smiled, and I felt my cheeks stretching in return. I couldn’t help it.

“Hey, Oaklyn. Come on in.”

“I was just stopping by to see if there was anything you needed help with,” I said, walking in and leaning on the back of a chair.

“Did Mr. Erikson finally let you free?”

“Yes, after torturing me for hours with the thought of being a physics major.” I placed my hand over my heart.

“Hey, now. It’s not too bad.”

“That lab looks like hell.”

“It is,” he agreed easily. “But it weeds out anyone not serious in the second year. Every program has a class or lesson that thins the herd.”

“Weaklings,” I said dramatically, making him laugh.

“Well, I’m about to finish up grading these papers and then I have to scan in the assignment for the next class.

Then I should be done.”

“Can I help?” I offered, not quite wanting to leave. I liked his laugh, and I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to hear it. Besides, we’d formed a friendship over the last month. More than occasionally we’d eat lunch together, discussing our favorite superheroes and other silly topics.

When I could afford it, I’d bake brownies for the office, but made sure to add nuts to at least half because I knew it was his favorite.

We were friends. I was a friend who probably watched his lips move too closely, but still a friend.

“Actually, yes, you can help. The papers I need to scan are on top of that bookshelf. If you get the ladder from down the hall, could you grab them for me?”

“I don’t need a ladder,” I said with exaggerated confidence. “I may only be five-five, but I make it work for me.” I scooted the chair over to the shelf and looked back before climbing on. “Besides, I’m way too lazy to have to go get a ladder and then take it back.”

“Alright, Mighty Mouse. Just be careful.”

I stepped up on to the cushion and tried to reach the folder. I couldn’t see on top, so I reached blindly.

“No, not that one,” Dr. Pierce said when my hand landed on a stack of papers. “It’s the one further back.”

My face was pressed to the spines of the books, my feet cramping from trying to push up higher and my T-shirt riding up past my jeans exposing my skin.

“Here, I’ll get it,” he said, beginning to stand.

“Nope.” I gave him a hard stare. “You grade papers. I will conquer this reach.” He didn’t come running around the desk, but he did remain standing.

I looked at my options and put my foot on the thin arm of the chair. Getting a good balance, I held on to the shelf and moved my other foot to the other side. I only wobbled a little bit, which brought him out from behind the desk.

“Please don’t fall, Oaklyn.” He stepped closer.

“I’m not going to fall,” I said, laughing.

I fully extended my legs and could finally see the folder at the top of the shelf. “Who put these up here?” I asked reaching for them. “Whoever files for you, really needs to get better at their job.

“I’ll fire her in the morning.”

“Good plan.” I lowered my arm to hand the papers down and the angle threw me off. My foot slipped and the next thing I knew, I was doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t.

Falling.

My heart pounded and in that split second, all I could think was how dumb I must look after I made a big deal of getting the papers. Idiot.

Strong arms wrapped around me. One behind my back, fingers firmly pressed to my arm and the other over the top of my thighs, his hand gripping close to the crease of my ass. I rolled in toward his hard chest, hands pressed to his sculpted pecs, and my face buried against his crisp, white shirt.

“I’ve got you.” The vibration of his words rumbled against my palms and shot straight toward my core.

My body came to life, acknowledging every part of me in contact with him. My heart thumped painfully against my chest, either from adrenaline or excitement—excitement that moments had passed, and he still hadn’t let me go.

Swallowing hard, I raised my head and looked up into his eyes, watching them darken right before me. “Thank you.”

The arm across my legs, slowly lowered them back to the ground, but the arm around my back, kept me close.

Could he feel my heart beating against his chest? Or the speed at which my lungs were trying to expand?

Solid ground hit my feet, yet I still floated above the ground, my hands holding tight to him.

I licked my lips and his eyes followed the movement before his own tongue repeated the process against his.

And I acted. Without thought. Without a care beyond what my body urged me to do.

Lifting up on to my toes, I recklessly pressed my lips to his.

A wave of chills washed over me. Excitement at the feel of his soft lips spread across my skin. His hand on my back contracted, but it was the only part of him that moved. It took me less than a moment to realize he wasn’t kissing me

back. He wasn’t shoving me away, but he wasn’t reciprocating either.

I’d made a mistake. I slowly eased back, breaking the connection between our lips, and opened my eyes, wanting to lose myself in the flecks of gray in his open eyes, and realizing that while I’d been lost in a moment I’d probably regret forever, he’d stood frozen, with his eyes open.

“I’m. . . ” I tried to say the words, but they barely fell out in a whisper. They were hollow anyway, since I still clung to him. Was still pressed solidly against him. “I’m sor—”

I never got to finish before he leaned down and attacked my lips. For as frozen and inactive as he’d been a second before, he was giving it ten times more. He was devouring me, like a desperate man trying to push past all the reasons this was wrong. To drown in the pleasure of feeling our bodies close.

He stared at me as he licked at my lips, my eyes opened in shock with the complete one-eighty. But then I opened my mouth, meeting his tongue halfway, tasting him, and on a moan I tried to swallow, his lids slid closed.

I dug my hands in his hair and lost myself to the moment. Closed my eyes and focused solely on the taste of coffee on his tongue, the feel of his hands pressed against my back, holding me tight against the erection I could feel against my stomach.

He trailed his lips across my cheek and down my neck before working their way up again. This was happening. I couldn’t believe it.

His hands dropped to my ass and squeezed the soft flesh, groaning at the feel of me in his palms. Fuck. Had a man ever sounded so satisfied at just grabbing my butt?

Confident in his desire for me, I threw everything I had into the kiss. Nipped at his lips, sucked on them the way I wanted to suck on his cock.

One hand continued to grip me and hold me close, moving to the center of my bottom where his long fingers

reached around the curve of my ass, barely touching the edges of my core. I wanted to rock my hips back to give him better access, encourage him to go further. But I was distracted by his other hand moving around my front, skimming my sides before cupping my breasts. My nipple hardened even more, almost reaching for his thumb as it circled and flicked across the tip. Each swipe sent shocks to my pussy and I was almost desperate to rub against him.

When was the last time I’d been touched from pure desire and not because someone paid me? I’d forgotten how good it felt, how exciting. Adrenaline coursed through my body, making every sensation stronger.

I needed more.

“Dr. Pierce,” I moaned when he’d begun making his way down my neck again.

And he froze. His lips halted their descent and the hands that had been pushing me to the edge of exploding, pulled back and curled tight into fists.

“Shit,” he whispered, the word brushing against my cheek. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He stepped back and looked at his hands clenching and unclenching by his side before finally meeting my eyes. “I’m sorry. That was—”

“It’s okay.” I rushed to interrupt.

The guilt and regret in his eyes was too much, and I needed this gone. The past few minutes of my fantasies coming to life faded as fast as they’d come. Despite the feeling of my heart closing in on itself, begging me to hold on a little longer, I knew it needed to end. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I’d fucked up, and the struggling indecision in his eyes weighed me down.

I needed to not drag him down in my mistake. I couldn’t listen to his apologies about how much of a mistake it was to have kissed me back, to touch me like he’d die if he didn’t. I didn’t want to hear his regret over something that had filled me with euphoria. “It’s okay. It was nothing. A moment. And all my fault. I’m so sorry. It was dumb.”

My apology was light, brushing what had just happened under the rug like it was no big deal. Like I couldn’t still feel my lips tingling and my stomach dropping. A part of me wanted to demand he continue, to make him not give in to my escape. But the rational part of me knew I had three more months with him. I didn’t want this moment to color everything. I didn’t want it to change everything we’d been.

“Oaklyn, this is not your fault.”

“It is. I kissed you like a silly girl. Like all the other girls that hit on you.”

“You’re anything but a silly girl.” He ran a large palm across his face. “You are smart, sexy, and alluring and so beautiful. And god . . . ” He paused, looking me over before sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. I wanted to get lost in those words, but I saw the but coming before he’d even said it. “You’re nineteen—my student—and I should’ve known better.”

I dug my nails into my palm to help center myself. To focus on that instead of the pain his rejection caused.

I wanted it to be over, and I never wanted it to be brought up again.

“It’s okay. Let’s forget it.” I reached down and collected the folder I’d dropped and handed it to him. “Here you go. I should get going.”

He took it from me but tossed it on the desk. “I can scan them in tomorrow. Let me grab my things so we can walk out together. It’s late.”

“Sure,” I said with a forced smile and nod. I watched him close his laptop and lifted my backpack to my shoulder, hating the awkwardness. Desperate, I tried breaking it with a joke. “You should probably straighten that folder on your desk before it gives you nightmares tonight.”

He moved the folder and smiled, not acknowledging that I was right.

While he did that, I went ahead and grabbed his jacket from the rack in the corner. As I held it out to him,

something fell from under it.

“Whoops,” I said, leaning down to pick it up.

“No. That’s okay,” he almost shouted, lunging for the hat.

But I got to it first and picked it up, brows furrowed as I studied it. I’d seen that hat before, the word Cincinnati stitched across the top. But where?

“Thank you,” he said, snatching it out of my hand and shoving it in a desk drawer.

Where had I seen that hat before?

Then it hit me.

All the blood drained from my face as I turned to look at Dr. Pierce. His gaze was cautious, and I took in his jaw, clenched and familiar. How had I not noticed it when I saw it?

He’d watched me. He’d watched me. The words ran on repeat over and over, curling around my chest, swirling into my stomach until I thought I’d heave.

“You . . . ” I tried to get it out, but I didn’t have enough air in my lungs. “You—”

“Oaklyn.” My name crested his lips softly, almost a plea because he knew I knew.

“Voyeur.” I said it. I threw it out there and there was no going back. “You’re at Voyeur. You watched me at Voyeur.”

“Oaklyn.” He stepped toward me, his hands out. “I’m so sorry. It’s not wha—”

“Stop,” I shouted. “Just stop.” I looked him over, trying to read his face. What he thought. How long he knew. What he saw. What he wanted. Why he did it. Each question hitting at my core, spreading like ice water through my veins. “Just stop,” I whispered, a plea I was embarrassed to let escape.

“Please.”

I clenched my eyes shut trying to think. Trying to block him out and understand. Trying to figure out what to do next.

“I sat here beating myself up for being attracted to you.

For luring you into kissing me. I beat myself up thinking I was just a child and not good enough. I—I was embarrassed for lusting after my professor, thinking about how wrong it was.” A humorless laugh escaped my pinched lips. “But why bother with kissing me—touching me or facing me, when you can just sit behind a glass and watch me play with myself with no limits or expectations.”

His hand rubbed at the back of his neck before they reached out to me again. I stumbled back a few steps, not wanting him to touch me. Not now. “That’s not what it was.

I didn’t seek you out. It just happened. You were there. So perfect and I’m so sorry.”

I heard him, but none of it penetrated the fog of embarrassment and hurt of being betrayed. “I felt crazy thinking I had imagined the attraction. That you would look at me a certain way, but you sure did look at me a certain way. You looked at me and saw me naked. Of course, you looked at me.”

Tears burned the backs of my eyes as I thought over the friendship we had built and how dumb I must have been to be the only one enjoying it. He was just keeping me around because I turned him on. I’d been a fool.

“That is not—”

“What was your favorite scene?” I asked, disdain dripping from my words. “What did you see when you watched me in class? Did you remember the way I moaned as I fucked myself? How about when Jackson fucked me?”

Each scenario was said louder than the last. “Or was it your favorite when you could make me suck his cock per your request. Did you imagine it was you?”

Dr. Pierce took another step forward, I held my ground this time. He stood over me, his nostrils flared as he breathed heavy and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Oaklyn,” he ground out.

“Do you want to see me strip now?” I whispered, dropping my backpack. I ripped my jacket off and began working on the buttons along my shirt baring my white lace bra. “Do you want me to get naked for you right here and do whatever you want?”

His hands latched on to my biceps and halted my progress. “Enough,” he shouted, his voice cracking over the words. When he spoke again, it was softer, tinged with desperation. “That’s enough.”

This close with his hands on me felt dirtier after the way he’d touched me a moment before. The way he’d kissed me and made me feel cherished. Made me feel wanted in a way that didn’t require me to perform. I hadn’t realized how cold the performances felt at Voyeur until I had Callum’s lips pressed to mine. Tears glossed over my eyes as I thought about how he’d called me beautiful. Had he meant it? Had he meant any of it?

His brows furrowed in pain and for a moment, I wanted to believe him. Believe that it was all happenstance and not at all what it seemed. Believe that what we shared in this office was what was real.

But I couldn’t, because it hurt too much.

I jerked out of his hold. “You’re not allowed to touch the performers.”

Not even bothering to button my shirt, I snatched my jacket up to my chest, grabbed my bag and got the hell out of there.