“Good.” Rutledge returned to his desk.
“Wow,” Christian whispered, barely audibly. “What crawled up his ass and died?”
Probably pissed off he couldn’t fail me, Shawn thought.
His skin prickled. He looked up and found Rutledge giving him a look of such loathing it made him feel like he was being repelled from the room. Shawn lifted his chin and met his gaze firmly. Seriously, what was the guy’s problem? It wasn’t like he had forced Rutledge to put his dick into his student’s mouth.
The thought—the memory—made Shawn blush and shift in his seat uncomfortably. Looking at Rutledge’s stony face, it was hard to believe it had really happened.
But it happened.
Shawn glanced at Rutledge’s hands—gripping his face as Rutledge pushed his cock into his mouth—
Shawn licked his lips, his skin uncomfortably hot, and fixed his gaze in front of him.
He wouldn’t think of it.
He wouldn’t.
* * *
He had thought he could put the incident out of his mind. He had thought Rutledge would just ignore him after the incident.
He had been wrong on both counts.
Shawn sighed and stared moodily at the assignment in front of him. Rutledge had been incredibly difficult the past few days, giving him brutally difficult assignments and constantly scolding him in front of everyone when Shawn failed to complete them to Rutledge’s satisfaction.
“Are you done, Wyatt?” said a familiar cold voice, and Shawn tensed. He glanced at Christian to his left, but his friend eyed the book in front of him with exaggerated interest. Traitor.
“I’ll be done soon,” Shawn lied. He stiffened when Rutledge put a hand on the desk and leaned down to look at the blank piece of paper in front of him.
“I see,” Rutledge said.
Shawn turned his head to glare at him and was taken aback by how close the other man’s face was. Inches away. Dark eyes locked with his for a moment before their owner’s lips twisted derisively. Rutledge straightened up to his impressive height and said, “Your assignment is due in ten minutes, Wyatt.”
“But you said—”
“Ten minutes,” Rutledge repeated in a voice that clearly said it would bear no argument.
He walked away, and Shawn glowered at his back.
He returned his gaze to the paper in front of him and stared at it sullenly. It wasn’t fair. How was he supposed to complete this assignment in such a short time? The questions were ridiculously difficult and barely reflected what they’d learned in class. Why couldn’t the asshole just leave him alone? It felt like Rutledge was determined to make his life a living hell—and he was succeeding.
Shawn scowled, trying to keep his temper in check and failing. He was tired, sleep-deprived, hungry and angry—never a good combination.
Later, he would blame everything on his sleep-deprivation. He would blame his sleep-deprivation for writing what he would have never written had he not been so damn tired, hungry and angry.
Shawn turned in his “assignment” exactly ten minutes later and walked back to his desk. He wasn’t even halfway to his desk when Rutledge said, his voice very soft, “Mr. Wyatt, my office after your classes.”
His mouth dry, Shawn nodded.
Idiot, he told himself. He shouldn’t have let his temper get the better of him.
* * *
When his classes were over, Shawn headed to Rutledge’s office, as ordered.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the familiar door.
“Enter.”
Shawn went inside and closed the door carefully.
Then he walked to Rutledge’s desk.
“Well?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Slowly, Rutledge looked up. The expression on his face was positively stony as he moved a piece of paper towards Shawn—the “assignment” he had turned in. “What is the meaning of this?”
Shawn picked up the paper and reread the single sentence written on it, as though he didn’t know what it said.
Do you want to fail me so I have no choice but to suck your dick again?
Inwardly, Shawn was cringing a bit. He couldn’t believe he’d lost his temper and actually written that.
But aloud, he said, “Can’t you read, sir?” Only a few days ago, he wouldn’t have dared to use this cocky tone with Rutledge, but apparently having had the guy’s dick in his mouth did wonders.
Rutledge stood up and walked to him.
He came to a halt only a few inches away.
Shawn didn’t move, refusing to be intimidated.
“I can have you expelled for this,” Rutledge said.
“Sure, but it will get you fired and your career tarnished when everyone finds out you’re trading grades for sex.”
Rutledge grabbed his neck. “You little shit.” His hand tightened on his throat. “Are you threatening me?”
“No,” Shawn croaked out. “I just really dislike being bullied. I didn’t force you to shove your dick into my mouth, Professor.”
Rutledge’s nostrils flared. He didn’t say anything, the muscles in his jaw working.
“Seriously, what’s your problem with me?” Shawn said, struggling to breathe through the pressure of Rutledge’s grip. “I can’t be the only student you used. I’m not proud of what I did, but it was a fair deal: we both got something out of it. Why are you always on my back?”