Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

I didn’t know Professor Skye would want to meet tonight when I messaged him my list. I definitely wasn’t expecting him to reply almost instantly.
I’ll pick you up in forty five minutes and we’ll discuss
all options and limits in person. Dress formally.

-Jared Skye,

English Literature Professor,


I gap at my laptop’s screen. Forty five minutes? Dress formally? Where are we going? And it would have been nice of him to ask me first- but I guess that’s something I’ll have to get used to, if I fully agree to this unusual proposition. His bossy attitude, I mean.

I jump up, out of bed, and head to my closet. I have almost no formal clothes…except the little black dress Sadie once bought me, in hopes to break my self conscious shell. Needless to say, it didn’t work… Even now as I struggle to move it up my hips, I’m pretty nervous to see what it actually looks like on me.

It doesn’t look too bad, I admit to myself as I study my attire in the mirror of my little vanity. It definitely could be worse.

I throw my hair up in a sleek ponytail and add a smear of red lipstick for good measure. I don’t have any heels and I don’t think my converse would look too bad with the outfit, so that’s taken care… Now, if I can just find a way to sink out of the house without drawing any attention from Sadie. I don’t want her asking questions. Besides, it’s really none of her business.

I throw on a pair of socks and grab my purse. I take a deep breath and tiptoe out of my bedroom, towrds the foyer. It’s only as I’m struggling to stand up right and put on my shoes, that Sadie notices me.

“Where are you going?” She asks from her spot on the couch. She furrows her eyebrows at me as  she notices my formal attire. “Is that the dress I got you last year?” She straightens up now, obviously interested. “Are you going on a… date?”

“I honestly don’t think that’s any of your business.” I reply dryly.

She make an ugh sound. “Whatever. Like I care.” But even after she says it, I note that she keeps sending glances my way as I steady myself on two feet again.

I straighten the wrinkles out of my dress and check my phone. A simple messages flashes back at me, only two words: I’m here.

I head outside without so much as a second glance at Sadie. To my dismay, a small ping rises in my chest, but I quickly swallow it down… I can’t let her continue to treat me this way… It’s not fair. I have to be strong.

The Impala is waiting just outside my apartment complex. When Professor Skye sees me, he pops out of the driver side, and walks around the car, only to hold my door open for me.

I flush, all traces of stress from earlier disappearing at the sight of him. “Thank you,” I say, sliding into my side of the cab. He closes the door behind me and heads back around to the driver’s side.

We sit in silence for a moment, the car idling in the parking lot. I’m just about to ask him where we’re going when my words are suddenly cut off.

He’s suddenly reaching across the cab and pressing his lips on to mine.

This isn’t my first kiss, not by far, but it almost…feels like it. Or perhaps the start of something new. I’ve never felt this way when kissing any of the dorky boys I’d been on a few dates with in high school. No. This is different.

I can’t stop myself from wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling myself closer to him. He tastes amazing; like spearmint toothpaste. I can feel the tip of his tongue tracing the inner line of my lips, and I open my mouth wide, accepting his offering.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the kiss is over and he’s scooting back to his spot in front of the stirring wheel.

I settle myself correctly into my seat and try to catch my breath without making it obvious that’s what I’m doing. Only one word comes to mind after such a kiss: Damn.

He says nothing as we speed away, and I’m too lost in my own scrambled thoughts to come up with a conversation starter on my own.


Once again he holds my door open for me, and even goes so far as to hold my hand as I get out of the car. It makes me feel special. I love it.

We’re at a nice looking steak house. The air smells amazing as we walk up to the door. The host sees us as we enter and just nods his head, grabbing two menus, and leading us right to a privat table, with its own personal dinning area, never mind the ongoing line ahead of us. Did he call ahead of time to sit this up for us? Surely he couldn’t have done so in just forty five minutes alone…

“Two waters with lemon.” He says, his eyes never leaving mine. The host hurries off to fetch our drinks.

“Is ordering for me going to be a common occurrence?” I can’t stop myself from asking.

“Yes.” He says simply.

I don’t know how to reply. I want to argue, but I know this is part of the deal, and I don’t go back once I’ve set my mind to something. Instead, I change the subject. “My lists…” I begin, but he stops me by placing his finger to his lips. The host returns with our drinks, and then hurries off with no none sense of chit chat.

“As you were saying…” He says when we’re alone once more.

“Did you read them over completely?” Wow. I sound so…formal.

“I did.” He nods his head, smirking at me. He notices my frown at that, and his mouth fades back to formal almost instantly.

“Are there any questions?” Surely he should be the one asking me that.

“You gave me your limits. Why should I question them? I certainly have no intention on trying to change your mind or get you to agree to something you’ve written down as a Hard Limit. I’m a Master, Miss Kinney, not a bully.”

My mouth pops open like a fish at the sound of the title he has given himself. Master. It sounds so… ancient; barbaric even. My stomach twists in excitement. I scold myself. Now isn’t the time. I have to focus. “Well, I have some questions.” I reply.

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t. I suppose you didn’t bring any pen and paper with you?”

“Uh… No. Was I supposed to?”

“No. We’ll do fine without it. I’ll type it up as a document on my phone and then email it to you.” He pulls out an expensive looking Blackberry. I watch as his thumbs move across its surface at top speed. “Go on.”

“I’m a virgin.” I say and my cheeks warm at the sudden declaration. “Sorry.” I quickly add. “I just felt like that was something I need to tell you before we start anything.”

“A virgin?” He asks. He sounds like he doesn’t believe me. In fact, he lowers his eyes at me, as if testing to see if I’d fold and tell the truth under pressure.


“Well that… complicates things.” He says finally when he sees that I’m telling the truth.

My stomach twists. Does that mean he doesn’t want me anymore? “I’m sorry.” I say again.

“Please. Don’t apologize. I just never expected this.” He admits almost sheepishly. Then, as if it finally dawns on him, he looks up. I swear I can see something deep, something bright, in his icy eyes. Excitement? Respect? I don’t know. “You’d give me your first time?” He asks.

I don’t know how to respond. “I… guess?” It comes out as as question.

He pulls his wallet out of his front pocket and plops a hundred dollar bill on the table. “Let’s go.” He says, standing and coming around to my side of the table. He offers me his hand as, almost automatically, I take it.

“Where are we going?” I ask, not quite understanding.

“My apartment.” He replies, leading me back to his car. I note that some of the same people from before are still waiting in line. They glare at us as we walk by.

“Why?” I still don’t understand.

“I believe you have something to give me.”


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