This is the final snippet of the Dear Sir, I’m Yours prequel (set five years prior) that I’ll post here on the blog.
The Final Final Exam
Rae stood in Dr. Connagher’s office, her right arm still hot from where his hand had been. That hint of force had made her tremble again. Her knees felt watery and her heart pounded so hard that she barely heard him shut the door behind them.
However, the snick of the lock sliding into place nearly made her jump to the ceiling and hang there like a yowling cat straight out of cartoons.
Breathlessly, she waited for him to make his move. If he picked her up and tossed her on top of his desk, it’d be worth a spanking.
But he didn’t touch her. Instead, he set his satchel on top of that glossy cherry desk she’d fantasized about all these months and added another stack of blue books into the bag. “Damn. I’m going to be grading for days. How does a week sound to you?”
Her voice cracked. “A week?”
“Let me finish grading for the semester, and by next Friday, it ought to be safe for us to date more formally.” He sat in his chair and casually leaned back, his hands behind his head, but he didn’t fool her. His eyes blazed and his arms were corded tight as though he were holding himself back instead of her for a change. “If you still care to see me, that is.”
The blinds behind his desk were drawn, letting only slender slants of light cut across his face, leaving canyons and hollows she longed to explore. Now, at last, she wasn’t his student. He wasn’t her professor. They were going to date. However, despite his earlier threat, he seemed in no hurry to even touch her.
A week my ass, she snarled. Two can play his little games.
Lifting her chin, she glided over to the desk and trailed her fingers across its glossy surface as she slowly invaded his space. On his side of the desk, she hopped up on top and sat before him, hissing a little at the cool surface beneath her nearly bare bottom. “You know I do.”
Gravely, he merely watched her, his face lined and dark, his mouth a firm slash.
She couldn’t tell if he was displeased or thrilled at her bravado. “I’ve had a lot of fantasies about this desk.”
“Like what, darlin’?”
“Oh, nothing.” She ducked her head a little so she could peep up at him through her lashes. Deliberately, she licked her lips. His forehead creased even more and his eyes locked on her mouth. “Nothing I can admit to you.”
The chair creaked as he leaned forward. He planted his palms on either side of her hips and fogged up the wood with the heat of his palms, but he still didn’t touch her. “You will if I tell you to.”
Her heart was beating double time now, that familiar anticipation and the beginning of dread curling through her. Yes, yes, this was Conn, not Dr. Connagher. The mask was slipping enough that he scared her, but she loved it. I love him.
If she pushed him hard enough, maybe he’d yank that mask clean away and take her right now on top of this big desk like she’d dreamed. “Will I?”
Heavy lidded and dark, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not in the mood for games, Rae.”
“That’s good,” she whispered, snuggling close enough to brush her mouth against his. “What sort of mood are you in, then?”
He made a low ragged sound and snagged her bottom lip in his teeth, gripping hard enough she cried out. The sharp sting sent a wicked curl of heat through her. Shuddering, she opened her mouth more, silently begging for his tongue, but he released her immediately. Undeterred, she slid her palm into the neck of his shirt, relishing the velvet heat of his neck, the crisp hair barely peeking out of the top of his shirt. She even managed to get one button undone before he shackled her wrists and pulled her hands away.
“Rae, darlin’, I can’t take your hands on me right now. It’s been one damned long semester, all this flirting and promising and teasing. I thought it’d be fun to give you a hot little spanking, but I’m too raw and ragged to pull it off without scaring the hell out of you. If I touch you right now, we’ll have the dean breaking that door down and hauling me off to prison because I’ll kill anyone who tries to keep me from you.”
“Aw, poor Dr. Connagher. Have I been a very bad student?”
“Very,” he retorted, squeezing her wrists harder. “Don’t push my buttons, Rae. Not today. You won’t like what you unleash. Give me a week–”
His eyes flared wide and his mouth fell open with shock.
She couldn’t help it–she laughed out loud. In fact, she felt downright giddy. After all these months, she’d finally managed to knock him off balance. As his student, she hadn’t dared antagonize him. Now…that will be half the fun. “Do you really think I slaved all semester in your class only to let you put me off again?”
Lazily, he dragged her wrists behind her, pinning them in the small of her back just as she’d imagined. She couldn’t help but fight and twist, testing him, ensuring he really could hold her.
I’m trapped, she realized, and at the same time, she felt a surge of wet heat between her legs. And more turned on than ever.
“Do you really think you can get away with telling me no, Rae?”
“No,” she purred, wriggling to the very edge of his desk to hug her thighs around him. “Make me yours, Conn.”
“You don’t have any idea what you’re asking.”
“I don’t care. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t make me wait another week.”
A growl trickled out of his lips. Before she could even yelp, he jerked and flipped her around so that she was on her stomach in front of him on top of his desk. He leaned in, pressing his chest against her buttocks to make sure she stayed put. Her arms ached, her wrists still clamped in his hand behind her. “Anything I want, Rae? Are you sure about that?”
Gasping, she tried to catch her breath, but the edge of the desk dug into her abdomen. When she didn’t answer quickly enough, he pushed her wrists up incrementally, making her shoulders scream with pressure. “No!”
“No, you’re not sure?” He released her wrists but kept his chest pressed against her, bracing his arms on either side of her on top of the desk, making his body a cage. “Or no to anything I want? Or maybe now you’ll ask me nicely to let you go home to change this skirt.”
“No.” She brought her hands up beneath her, ready to scramble out from beneath him even if that meant crawling across his desk. “I won’t go home, Dr. Connagher. Not to change. Not for a week. Sir.”
Wanna find out how Rae does on this final exam? Download the rest of the story here (pdf) including one final letter and an “extra credit” poem. If you enjoyed this free read, I hope you’ll check out Dear Sir, I’m Yours when it releases on June 16th to find out how Conn and Rae can possibly set about “Making it Right.”