Sophia adjusted the strap of her backpack, her heart racing as she approached the door of Professor Reed's office. The corridor was empty, sunlight casting soft shadows through the tall windows. Her heels echoed off the marble floor like a heartbeat.
She shouldn't be here.
Not after what happened last week.
Not after the way his eyes lingered too long as he handed her back the graded essay. The way his fingers brushed hers intentional or not as he leaned closer to whisper, "Stay behind after class next time."
And yet, here she was, breath caught in her throat as she knocked gently.
"Come in."
The door creaked open, revealing a space that smelled of old books and cedarwood. Professor Reed sat behind his mahogany desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, top button undone. He didn't look up at first. Just scribbled something onto a piece of paper with deliberate strokes, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
"I thought you might show," he said finally, lifting his gaze.
Sophia stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "You asked me to stay after class. You didn't exactly explain why."
He stood slowly, his tall frame shadowing hers. "You're the best writer in the course. But your last piece... It felt personal."
She tilted her chin. "Is that a problem?"
"No," he said, voice lower now. "But it made me wonder how much of it was fiction?"
Sophia's cheeks warmed. Her story had been about a woman who desired someone she shouldn't a man older, unattainable, dangerous because he made her feel seen.
"I write what I feel," she replied, her voice soft.
He stepped around the desk, close enough that she could smell his cologne. Clean, masculine, intoxicating.
"And what are you feeling now, Miss Calder?"
Sophia's lips parted. "I don't know if I should answer that."
Professor Reed's gaze dipped to her mouth, lingering. "Then maybe I'll answer it for you."
There was silence thick, charged. Then, as if the tension snapped all at once, he brushed a hand against her cheek, tentative. When she didn't pull away, he cupped her face fully.
The kiss that followed was slow at first. Testing. Curious.
Then hungry.
Sophia melted into it, fingers tangling in his shirt as he backed her gently toward the bookshelves. When her spine hit the cool wood, he pressed his body flush to hers, their breaths hitching in rhythm.
"I shouldn't," he murmured against her skin.
"Neither should I," she whispered, tugging him closer.
His lips explored her throat, his hands gripping her waist like she was the answer to every question he'd ever dared not ask. Her own fingers slipped into his hair, grounding herself as he nibbled a path to her collarbone.
"I dreamt of this," she admitted, voice trembling. "Of you. Of this room."
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. "Then let's not waste another second pretending."
Their mouths crashed together again, this time with no hesitation. The kiss turned into a dance of desperation and discovery, heat surging through their bodies like wildfire. His hands roamed her curves reverently, as if memorizing every line. Her legs parted slightly, and he stepped between them, deepening their connection.
Books shifted on the shelves behind them as their bodies moved. He kissed her like a man starved of touch, of intimacy, of her.
Outside, a bell rang faintly the end of another class period.
But inside that office, time bent around them. It was as if the rest of the world melted away, leaving only stolen glances, whispered names, and the beating of two hearts no longer able to ignore the magnetic pull between them.
Sophia's breath caught as he trailed kisses down her neck again, slower now, reverent.
"I want to do this right," he said hoarsely, resting his forehead against hers. "But I can't promise to be good."
"I'm not looking for good," she replied, her smile crooked. "I'm looking for real."
He kissed her again this time softer, more thoughtful, as if sealing a pact between them.
Their affair hadn't truly begun, but in that moment, in that room with its paper-thin walls and too-many rules, something sacred had been broken.
Or perhaps, finally, something sacred had been found.