She doesn’t send a message or a text acknowledging the payment, even though I know the finance division would have informed her the moment the funds arrived.
She’s notably absent from Finance and Accounting later, but Veer Bestlasson sits in the front seat with his arms folded across his chest and glares at me throughout the entire lecture.
If I wasn’t buying Mother’s freedom with his abduction, the boy would learn never to issue an unspoken challenge. But singling him out would only add me to the list of suspects when he eventually goes missing.
Odin must never know of my involvement. Not if I ever want to return to academia.
I sleep in the playroom for the third night since Sunday, and by four-thirty on Wednesday morning, I awaken with a raging hard-on and a thirst that only Phoenix can quench.
If she wanted me, she would have replied to my texts.
If she wanted me, she would have demanded her monthly allowance.
If she wanted me, she would have stayed.
But what if she wants me to make the next move?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Don’t do this.”
I tell my common sense to fuck off. Phoenix is ours.
Before I know it, I’m in the university campus, standing outside the entry system with my features obscured by a baseball cap.
The first traces of sunlight peek over the high walls that surround the ground. Seagulls squawk, interrupting what would be a pleasant mix of birdsong and distant traffic.
All the sounds I should be enjoying this morning are muffled by the roar of blood between my ears.
My common sense mutters something about this being my last chance to turn around before I do something stupid like get caught with my pants down around a student, but I’m so close to Phoenix that I can smell her scent.
I ring her bell.
“Hello?” she says through the intercom, her voice heavy with sleep.
“Delivery.”
There’s a second’s pause before she buzzes me in, and the sound makes my cock jump to attention. After all, he’s leading the show.
Studio number 50 is on the fourth floor. Keeping my head bowed, I head for the stairs, where the security cameras’ visibility is the poorest, and take them two at a time.
Phoenix’s studio apartment is conveniently located by the fire door. I knock twice, pull down the brim of my cap, and wait.
She cracks the door open but neglects to put on the chain. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I make a mental note to chastise her lack of caution, but I shove my way through the door.
Phoenix skitters backward, her mouth agape. As she draws in a deep breath to scream, I clamp a hand over the lower half of her face and pin her to the wall.
With one leg, I kick the door behind me, letting it shut with a satisfying slam.
Her eyes are wide, doll-like, with long, thick lashes that I remember looked beautiful as she served me at my throne.
I press my erection into her belly, letting her feel exactly what she’s caused, and growl, “Why have you been avoiding me? You and I are not finished.”
She shakes her head, makes a muffled sound of denial, but I’m too far gone to listen to excuses.
“Do you remember your safeword?” I ask.
“Of course,” she says, “But what’s this about?”
“We had a deal.” I run my hands down her sides.