“Miss Belle.” His deep, irritated voice called me from his office. I stopped outside his door and peered in. “Please come in and have a seat.”

Swallowing hard, I looked side to side to see if anyone saw me enter and then walked in. My skater skirt rode up in the back when I sat down, and my bare thighs pressed to the cold wood of the chair.

I waited for him to speak, but Professor Ryan just sat there staring at me with his intense brown eyes. He stared at me in class too. I couldn’t help but notice.

As shameful as it was to admit, a part of me liked the attention. A quiet, shameful part.

However, the way he stared now pushed the limits of my comfort. The way his eyes traveled up my legs, lingering at the spot between my thighs. Then stroked their way up to my chest, before finally settling on my face. It took everything I had not to dodge my eyes all around the room to avoid his stare.

“I’d like to discuss the amount of missing assignments you currently have.”

Shit.

“I’m sorry, Professor Ryan. I’ve been working so hard to supplement my dancing scholarship with a job and then dance practice itself. I’m struggling to stay on top of everything.”

“I would hate for you to fail statistics in your first year of college. So young, and you’d lose your scholarship along with your spot on the team.”

The thought of losing out so soon, sent me into a panic. I needed to do something.

Deciding to capitalize on his attention, I took a deep breath, pressing my chest out. I crossed my legs and didn’t tug my skirt down when it rode a little too high for decency. A spark of success ignited in me when his gaze dropped. I moved my hand to my thigh as I leaned forward and pressed my breasts together, letting the deep V of my grey T-shirt gape over my cleavage.

“Professor Ryan, I definitely don’t want that. I can’t lose my scholarship. Dance is all I have.” I licked my lips and dragged my teeth across the bottom one, plumping it to attention. “Is there any way I could possibly get an extension on the work.”

His gaze stroked along my thighs, as though he could push the hemline of my shirt higher. But then his eyes flicked to mine, hard and unyielding. Apparently, unimpressed with my sexual display.

Immediately, shame settled around me that I’d stooped so low as to try and use my body to distract my professor and win favors in return for a glimpse of my bare skin.

“That is an unacceptable option. Unfair to the rest of the class who worked hard to get their work turned in on time without any excuses.”

My head dropped along with my heart, a blush rising in my cheeks. I was sure I was screwed now. There was no way I’d be able to bring up my grade.

“Maybe,” he began, buoying my hope, “we can work out some extra credit. I don’t give extensions. If you want extra points, then you need to put in extra work. I don’t reward tardiness.”

A smile crept across my face, stretching my cheeks. “Of course, Professor. Anything.”

I wasn’t afraid of hard work.

He stood from his desk and I craned my neck to hold his stare, he was so tall. I wanted him to know I was serious and not going to brush off his class.

His nostrils flared on a deep inhale and his look dropped to my chest that was still slightly exposed. From his standing position, he had a better view of my white lace bra. I sat back in my seat and tugged up my shirt.

Now that I had what I needed, there was no need to use my body. It was a dumb move anyhow.

But when I looked up, he had a smirk on his lips, as though my late modesty was humorous to him.

He shook his head and made to move around his desk and I never looked away, unsure of what he was doing. My heart hammered as he approached my chair, staring down at me. He seemed so much taller, more opposing, authoritative as he hovered beside the arm of my chair. I was scared to look away.

Did he see the slight fear in my blue eyes?

Did he like it?

But he kept walking before I could figure it out. I refused to turn to see what he was doing behind me.

The door creaked before clicking closed, and there was something about the snick that sounded final. Like the door represented my fate locking in place.

“Wha—” My nerves choked off my voice and I had to try again. “What are you doing?”

He walked past me, this time letting his fingers gently stroke past the strands of hair hanging beyond my shoulders. His touch was so soft, I could have almost imagined it. But my senses were hyper-aware and there was no missing the caress.

He didn’t say anything as he rounded his desk again and sat in his chair.

Excitement sparked in his eyes and his lips twitched as though he was holding back a smile. It did nothing to soothe me, instead making my heart beat harder in my chest, thumping in fear of what I’d gotten myself in to. I didn’t speak, not that I could past the lump in my throat. Just waited for him.

“Miss Belle.” His tongue flicked along the elle of my name, dragging in out. “Show me you deserve to be here. Show me how much you love to dance and that you want to be here.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, my words barely a whisper.

He rolled his chair back from his desk, gesturing to the spot in front of him. I couldn’t help but notice the large bulge pressing against his dark slacks.

“Dance for me. Right here.”