Later That Afternoon as she made her way to stones classroom her phone rang. It was her father.
She brought it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Elizabeth," came her father's clipped voice.
She exhaled slowly. "Took you long enough."
"I've been busy," he said, as if that excused the silence. "Just checking in. Though I hear you've been causing quite the ruckus already."
Elizabeth scoffed. "Wow. So you've got spies here too."
"You're making a spectacle of yourself," he replied. "Try not to tarnish the Whitmore name while you're at it."
She clenched her jaw. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad. Really warms the heart."
"I'm not calling to argue, Elizabeth."
"Right. You're calling to remind me how much of a disappointment I am. Message received."
"Goodbye, Elizabeth."
The line went dead.
She stood there for a beat, the phone still pressed to her ear. Then she shoved it into her bag, before squaring her shoulders and pushing open the door to Professor Stone's classroom.
He was seated behind his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled up again, just like before. Her stomach betrayed her with a flutter.
"Miss Whitmore," he said without looking up. "Take a seat."
She obeyed, dropping her bag a little too loudly.
"We really must stop meeting like this." He muttered, marking something in a red pen.
Elizabeth folded her arms and slouched back in the chair, eyes fixed on him. "You say that like it's my fault."
He closed the file in front of him and stood slowly, walking to the front of the desk.
He leaned back against it, arms crossed over his chest. Watching her.
"I don't know what's going on with you, Miss Whitmore," he said finally, voice low, "but I suggest you find a way to keep it outside my classroom."
"Not promising anything," she said sweetly, "but I'll try my best, Professor."
A flicker of something passed through his eyes.
He didn't respond.
Didn't move.
Just stood there watching her.
Elizabeth leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now, teasing. "Unless… you like having me in your classroom."
His jaw tightened and She saw it.
He wasn't as unaffected as he pretended to be.
Without a word, he turned back to his desk, burying himself in paperwork.
The silence between them thickened.
She shifted slowly undoing the top two buttons of her shirt. Her collar loosened, revealing the top parts of her boobs and cleavage beneath uniform blouse.
Then she stood, grabbing her copy of Ethics & Dilemmas and making her way to the front, where he'd resumed marking papers behind the desk.
She placed the book on the surface between them. "I don't get this part," she said innocently, flipping the page to a section near the middle. "About moral thresholds or whatever."
Professor Stone glanced at the page, then at her.
His eyes paused for a second too long.
His jaw tensed.
"Did you read the previous section?" he asked, tone level but tight.
"I skimmed it," she said, leaning forward, resting her hands on the desk. Her arms pressed just enough to lift her cleavage, her lips parted with just enough curiosity to seem innocent.
His eyes flicked down, just once. But she caught it.
Gotcha.
"You might understand it better," he said, voice lower now, "if you actually read the material."
She smiled slowly. "Maybe I just need a good teacher."
"I'm not going to play this game with you, Miss Whitmore," he murmured, his voice like gravel. "Whatever fantasy you've got spinning in your head… I'm not the man for it."
She leaned in just a little closer, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Then stop looking at me like you are."
"Go sit down." he said. A command wrapped in restraint.
She hesitated, then slowly picked up her book, brushing her fingers over the desk as she did.
"Whatever you say… Professor."
PROFESSOR AIDEN STONE
Aiden watched her walk back to her seat, hips swaying just enough to make his jaw tighten. The scent of her perfume still lingered in the air. something subtle, sweet, and wildly inappropriate for a girl her age.
But he was beginning to suspect she knew exactly what she was doing.
Aiden Stone closed his eyes for a brief second and drew in a breath. His member was already hard just being that close to her.
When he opened them again, she was already seated, legs crossed, notebook open, her lips caught between her teeth like she was trying not to smirk.
Christ.
This was bad.
Aiden rubbed his temples, breathing deep. He couldn't let her get to him. She was a student. Barely eighteen. Off-limits in every imaginable way.
But still, the image of her leaning over his desk flashed behind his eyes. His body reacted before he could scold himself for it.
She wasn't the first student to test boundaries. But she was the first who made him want to fail.
He'd have to keep his distance.
Because if he didn't, he wasn't sure how much longer he'd last.