Chapter 4

/-HAZEL-/

So one minute I am hoping to escape this awfully awkward situation and the next I am being dragged into a room by my not-so-old-supermad-professor-slash-boyfriend’s daddy.

“What is wrong with you?” his voice comes out calm but his eyes look like they could slash me in two if I as much as breathe. I proceed to hold my breath because I didn’t really want to end up in halves.

“Do you think this is a game? Miss Acker? Is it fun to you?” His tone is dangerously low, but my sharp mouth doesn’t get the memo.

“A game? You are the one playing games here! Belittling my abilities so some nitwits could think highly of themselves? I know my art is good but you keep making it harder to tolerate you!” I fire.

“Tolerate me? I am here to help you perfect your skills not babysit your feelings. Just because you’re good doesn’t mean others can’t be better. Just because you represent the college at the nationals every year doesn’t make you the best. If you were, why isn’t the shelf packed with first-place trophies?” he retorts and that’s when hell lets loose.

I can take anything but him berating my abilities. My parents are doing a lot already.

My rage pushes me to close the distance between us.

“How dare you say that to me! Who do you think are to look down on my efforts? If you were so good, you wouldn’t be working as an ordinary professor!” I flip. Hiz eyes harden and my heart stops for a second. His scent hit off stronger and I suddenly realize how dangerous this position was.

My body begins to cower and I step back but he closes the gap once more, cutting short my oxygen supply.

“You think teaching is my second choice? An option I went for because I couldn’t succeed?” I drop my eyes, unable to take the harshness of his gaze. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders and I bite my lip aggressively, compelling myself not to give in to the order.

Once again, my brain fails to interpret the need to save my dignity and my terror stain eyes meet his. I gulp hard.

“You might think you’re talented and all, but without proper guidance and a tutor to help harness your potential to the fullest, you are nothing but another regular child. Contrary to your belief, some of us actually studied, gave our best so we would be able to guide and impact knowledge into little entitled brats like yourself. So the next time you look down on my job, you will make a painting of Mona Lisa with a cotton bud.”

My jaw drops. Just how evil can one man be? I open my mouth to complain but he throws me a glare that shuts me up instantly.

“Now, Miss Acker, what punishment will suit your insolence?”

“Huh?”

“You have five seconds to choose else I will make the choice for you. Trust me, my options are not very pleasant.”

“But you can’t…”

“Five..” he interrupts and my eyes widen.

“This is partia…”

“Four…”

My heart pumps heavily against my chest as I rake my brain for an easy punishment. One that would most likely punish him as well.

“Three…” His lips press together. I could swear my nerve cells were clashing against each other and my ribcage, as the verge of breaking out.

“Two…” Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

“Allow me to paint you!” I yell, just before he calls the last number. Surprise flashes in those green eyes.

“Paint me?” He repeats.

“Paint you nude. You’re a professor, aren’t you? It shouldn’t be hard for you to pose for amateur artist,” I wink.

His eyes search mine while he progresses forward with an annoyed expression.

“You couldn’t even look me in the eye fully clothed and now you think you can take the sight of my body? Fine!”

In a blink, he rolls his chair over and pushes me down in it. He drops a foot on the seat, just beside my thighs. With a hand holding down the back of the seat, probably to prevent me from escaping, he leans in.

My cheeks heat up.

“I’ll make it easier for you. No eye contact, just look.” He takes out the first button and I feel myself burning inside out. My plan was to rile him up and make him nervous, but it seems like I am the one falling for my own trap.

The second button goes off. My eyes are fixed on his hands. The visible veins outline on his hands has me itching to feel them. As he takes out the third, I see a peek of his chest. The next thing that happens catches me off guard.

He forces the shirt apart, sending the buttons flying in different directions. I let out a gasp. All that with one freaking hand! He shrugs off the shirt and I look away immediately.

His cold fingers grip my chin and force my face to his. My cheek temperature shoots up to a hundred degrees. His breath hits my face slightly and my hands fist my dress to hide my inner panic.

“Cowering already? How do you intend to take the rest of me when you’re burning at the sight of a mere torso?” the husky whispers lure my eyes to his lips and the plump piece of flesh calls out to me in silent allure.

How would it feel if I…

Strange butterflies rumbled in my belly at the thought of feeling those lips on mine. I am definitely going crazy!

“Five hundred pages of a boldly lettered apology,” he snaps me out of my daze, backing me instantly.

“Huh?”

“Get out.”

What?

My whole mind feels cloudy. It should have been enjoying the calm from the violent storm of emotions, but now it is just plain confused. Pissed.

How can he just dismiss me like that? The swift shift in demeanor and coldness like he… didn’t feel anything. Or is it all in my head? The sparks, the butterflies… Shock and regret strike at the same time.

I went too far! I have a boyfriend who loves me and expects to be loved in return. What the hell am I doing having those thoughts about his super annoying dad? I stand quickly without arguing as I initially intended to and run away.

Five hundred pages my foot! He would have to slit my throat and dice me into tiny pieces. Even then, he still wouldn’t get any apology from me!