Author's Note:
Big Thanks to DarkR1vers_leander for gifting this novel a power stone two times in a row!
Thanks for the support you've shown so far!
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The office was quiet now.
Joren sat back in one of the office chairs, catching his breath, while Professor Hart sat on his lap, her head resting against his shoulder.
After a few moments, Joren broke the silence.
"We should probably clean ourselves up."
Professor Hart nodded, but didn't move.
"My legs are still shaky," she murmured, her voice soft and breathy.
Joren glanced down at her. "You need to get up so we can clean up."
"I know," she said, still not moving. "Just… help me?"
He sighed, but it wasn't one of annoyance. Carefully, he helped her off his lap and onto her feet. She wobbled slightly, gripping the edge of the desk for balance.
"I'd better get going," Joren said, reaching for his clothes.
As he dressed, Professor Hart slumped into her office chair, her body sinking into the cushions like she hadn't sat down in days. She waved a hand at him, almost dismissively.
"Make sure no one finds out about this," she said, her tone low. "I can't afford to lose my job."
Joren nodded. "I won't say anything."
He opened the door and stepped out, closing it gently behind him. For a moment, he just stood there. The hallway was empty and quiet. The janitor from nearby was approaching, probably to clean up Professor Hart's office.
Joren exhaled slowly, a relief washing over him. They hadn't been caught.
He started walking down the hallway, his footsteps echoing through the corridor. His mind was still replaying everything that had just happened — every grope, every moan, every orgasm.
He wasn't done with Professor Hart
Not yet.
In fact, this was just the beginning.
....
The day had slipped by without him noticing. It was already evening now. The sky coloured orange and violet, the sun dipping low behind the rooftops, and the campus still buzzed with life.
Groups of students lingered outside lecture halls and dorms, chatting and laughing. Some were sprawled on benches with snacks or earbuds in. The vibe was relaxed — that golden hour after the day's lectures, when no one was in a rush.
Joren strolled around the campus, his body still aching pleasantly.
He had barely walked a few meters when he spotted a familiar figure up ahead.
Dale.
He was standing near the fountain, laughing with a group of guys — the same crew he always called his "homeboys". They were loud, rowdy, and always cracking jokes and slapping each other on the back like crazy.
Joren slowed his pace, his hand already raised to wave at Dale.
But then he stopped.
Something about the group's energy made him hesitate. He didn't feel like being pulled into their noise right now, not after everything that had happened.
So he turned slightly, veering off the path and heading toward the quieter side of campus.
He continued his walk, revelling in the quiet of this part of campus. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows across the sidewalk. The chatter and laughter from the main campus faded behind him, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the occasional laughter of nearby students.
After a while, he began to hear footsteps behind him.
He turned to see who it was.
No one.
He frowned, shook it off, and kept walking.
Then again, the footsteps came, light and deliberate.
He spun around.
Still no one.
A chill ran up his spine, his body tensing.
*This is how it starts in the movies,*
he thought.
*The MC walks alone, hears footsteps, turns around— nothing. Then boom!— someone shows up from behind with a weapon.*
He picked up his pace.
The footsteps followed, faster now. Inching closer to him.
Joren didn't dare look back again. His heart pounded. He turned left, slipping into a small campus mart, hoping to lose whoever — or whatever — was following him.
Inside, He hid between two rows of aluminum shelves, his back to the door, trying to steady his breathing.
Then — the door opened.
He heard the staff at the entrance greet someone.
His pulse spiked.
*Was it the stalker?*
The footsteps came again. This time inside the store. They approached slowly, then paused, right behind him.
Joren stood frozen, rooted to the spot.
And then, two hands gently covered his eyes.
They were soft. Too soft to belong to a killer. Their scent were also familiar.
*Wait… I know this perfume.*
He reached up, pulled the hands away, and turned.
"Lana?"
She stood there in a light sundress, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, a playful smile on her lips.
Joren blinked. "How did you—?"
"I've been following you for a while now," she said casually.
His chest sagged in relief.
*At least it wasn't some knife-wielding maniac.*
"Why were you following me?" he asked.
"I just wanted to hang out this evening," she said with a shrug.
"You could've just said so," he muttered. "Instead of stalking me."
"I wanted to surprise you," she said, grinning. "But just as I was about to, you sped up and came in here. So I followed."
Joren didn't respond. His eyes dropped slightly to the floor, his mind racing.
Lana tilted her head, watching him. "Were you scared?" she teased. "Thought a stalker was after you?"
"I—uh... No! I wasn't scared!"
He answered, a bit too defiantly. A faint blush crept up his cheeks.
She laughed. "You're adorable when you're all flustered like that."
Her teasing made him shift uncomfortably. "Let's just forget all that." he said. "And… no one needs to know about this."
"Fine by me," she said, looping her arm through his. "Come on. There's this new diner I've been dying to show you."
As they walked out of the mart, she glanced at him with a smirk. "So… about our date. Are you done planning it?"
Joren nodded instinctively.
"Yeah."
Then it hit him.
*Wait.*
*What date?*