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The Vault
The Vault
Author: Linzvonc

The Professor

I was going to fail.

Again.

Every frigging assignment was harder than the last, and I was tired of it. Do well, improve on your sister's grades- she is doing so well, it will be you soon.

Frig off.

Society's expectations were draining me. Don't get me wrong; I'm clever. Top of my class kinda clever, but I'm not on my genius sisters level, oh no. She is a high profile lawyer, married to a judge. They live in a prestige part of town, and they have two perfect children, thank you very much.

Hey, guess what?

I don't give a shit.

Except, its not worth it to not do well. My parents have promised me everything if I succeed at passing my degree with flying colours. A swanky apartment in the city. Any car I want. An allowance until I'm taken on full time. They are rich, high flyers like my sister. Dad is a partner in a fierce law firm; Mother is a socialite. Not that I need their money, but why not take it?

I had the mental capacity to do well, I suppose they were just encouraging what was natural.

So I'm sitting here, listening to my professor drone on and on about things I couldn't care less about. I find my eyes drifting to the window as I try not to yawn, kept awake by my boyfriend until the early hours.

"Miss Sharpe. Can you enlighten us on your view on which statement is most likely appropriate as a response to the question?"

I look up to see the blue eyes of my professor glaring at me over the thick dark frames he wore. If only he wasn't so frigging miserable, he would be deemed potentially possible as a distraction in which to pass the time.

I clear my throat as I smile, which only makes his eyes narrow further.

"I would say there are doubts about the conclusive nature of studies on animals. So...C."

He lifts a brow, before challenging me further.

"On what basis?"

I glance around the room to see people taking interest in him making a point of me being his scapegoat, and I try not to respond too sarcastically.

"On the data presented to us in the past. If the government was to act before the study can be proven conclusively, it would lose credibility. Sir."

He is annoyed that I'm right, but having grown up in a house with my sister and father, one couldn't help but learn how to argue and debate successfully.

The professor dragged his eyes away from me, but not before he handed out our grades from our previous assignment. I'd worked particularly hard on this one, despite not having any passion whatsoever for the subject at hand.

He slams mine on my desk, before moving past me with a strange smile on his face. I turn it over quickly, preparing myself for a minimum of a B grade when I saw a big fat red D staring angrily up at me.

I blink in surprise, glancing around as I hear little whoops and high fives. Even Jonathan Bewley was happy, and he was a frigging idiot if I've ever known one.

A frigging D?

This can't be right.

"Sir-" I begin, holding my hand up as the bell rings. He ignores me as my classmates gather their things, rushing off to the next class like their lives depended on it. This university was not like others- you woke up early, you showed up early, and you worked your arse off. If you didn't, you wouldn't make it.

Welcome to Law.

"Sir," I repeat, pushing my way to his desk as I finally notice his eyes snap up at me with irritation.

"Yes, Claire?"

"I think there's been a mistake, I've been given a D?"

I hold my page up as he continues to shuffle papers on his desk, his eyes finally meeting mine as he exhales.

"There's no mistake. Your work was abysmal."

He stares at me for a moment, and a sharp laugh leaves my mouth.

"Sorry, did you just say-"

"Abysmal. Catastrophic. Embarrassing. Shit."

I blink, stunned. Did he just say-

"Anything else?"

I was floored. This professor couldn't have been older than thirty-five, yet he was speaking to me the way you would a child. Except I'm not a child. I'm twenty years old.

"Are you frigging joking me?"

The words are out before I can stop them, and he leans back into his chair, his hands crossing in front of him as he smiles at me coldly.

"Such a dirty mouth. No, Claire. I'm not joking. Could you not rephrase that in a more eloquent manner? Or are you also failing your native language?"

I'm unable to respond, as he looks back at the papers on his desk. I try to move but my feet are stuck to the ground, determined to wait until I'd argued my way to a least an A.

"I am challenging your method of marking. I want someone else to mark it, you are clearly biased."

He stands up then, walking around the desk as he stands in front of me, removing his glasses as he breathes hot air onto them slowly. He reaches forward, tugging my shirt from my skirt, using it to clean the lenses. In doing so he pulls me closer to him, and I feel my n*pples harden instantly. What the-

"I'm not biased. You could do better. No one else will mark it, so if you want a better grade, you need to impress me further."

He pushes my shirt back into my skirt, his fingers touching my bare skin as I shiver unexpectedly.

"Impress you? I wrote that very well. I couldn't have argued my point any better; in fact, I challenge you to show me a better piece of work."

He steps closer to me, my heart loading against my chest as he gazes at me, and I'm truly unsure what he is going to do. He speaks softly, his mouth close to my ear when he does.

"Listen Claire. I'm bored with this conversation. So take your D, and leave. Or..."

I bite my lip as he sighs, gazing at me with annoyance.

"Or what? I need to pass this," I whine, as he folds his arms. I'm aware he is well built beneath his shirt, and I'm following the line of hairs on his arms under the fabric of his cuff when he waves at me.

"Have you finished checking me out? It's highly inappropriate you know, I am your superior."

For once, I'm unable to answer. Of course, I found him attractive- everyone did. But he was an arse, miserable, boring, argumentative dickhead who was out to make my life hell.

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are. You're checking me out."

I feel my cheeks flush beneath his gaze, as he lifts an eyebrow at me.

"Are you going, or are you going to attempt to change your grade?"

I'm not sure I've heard him right, and I shake my head in confusion.

"You want me to argue my way to an A?"

He laughs then, a deep chuckle as he loosens his tie, his fingers tugging it down slightly as he opens the top buttons on his shirt.

"Is that what you want, an A?"

"Doesn't everyone?" I snap back, as he begins to walk towards me, his eyes on the door behind me the whole time.

"I'll give you an A. But what are you going to do to earn it?" His voice is a whisper in my ear, and I almost fall back in surprise. Was he...propositioning me?

Surely not...

"Claire, I haven't got all day."

He is so close now I can smell his aftershave, mixed with the scent of fresh laundry and a hint of peppermint. God, he smelt good.

"Sir, I'm confused, what exactly are you asking me?"

He smiles then as he walks forward, his body inches away from mine.

"You want an A, right? I can give you the A," he smirks suddenly, and I realise what he is referring to. His gaze drops down my neck to my chest, which is rising and falling rapidly under his heated gaze. "But are you going to give me what I want?"

I lift my eyes to his, knowing he could get into serious trouble for what he seemed to be suggesting.

"What...what do you...want?" I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. His eyes drag down my body slowly, as he leans close to my ear. I panic he can hear my heart rate, and all I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears.

TBC.

Comments (1)
goodnovel comment avatar
Heather Lynn
whats the second part called to this one?
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