I sit in my seat next to Lincoln, groaning when he glares at me. What a joy.
“Ladies and gents, as per the email last week, your first proposals are due at the end of the lesson,” Mr. Peters says as he drops down into the chair at his desk.
I look at Lincoln, who looks smug as fuck. I didn’t get any damn email, and I’d put money on him being the reason why. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t realize I was your keeper.” He rolls his eyes, and just once, I wish I was brave enough to fuck him up a little. I’ve fought bigger guys than him, but there's something almost feral underneath that calm surface of his that gives me pause every time I think about lashing out.
“Of course you’re not.” I sigh, exasperated. Why does he take everything I say the wrong way? “But we’re supposed to work on this together.”
Mr. Peters draws my attention back to him as he drones on about plentiful returns and profit margins, and it takes everything I have not to zone out and panic about the project I’m meant to be doing with Lincoln. After most of the class has passed, Mr. Peters tells us to finish up our first proposals before handing them in.
The first part of our project is to write a proposal for a business venture with full-scale profit projections. Apparently, Lincoln has taken it upon himself to decide what the business venture is. I look over at him and he’s got a smug smile on his face as he watches my panic ensue. “Are you going to show me what you’ve worked on at least?”
“Why would I do that?” he asks, smug smile firmly in place.
I let out a deep sigh and rub at my temples. “Just this once, don’t be an ass, Lincoln. Please?”
Here I am, begging again. I’m starting to despise Lincoln Saint and his web of bullshit.
“Fine,” he says, dropping the file onto my desk before leaning in close. “But only because I like the way my name falls off your lips when you beg.”
The bell rings before I have a chance to even read the first page. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He takes the file from my hand, smirking at me before stalking to the front of the room, dropping the proposal he wrote up on Mr. Peters desk. “I did this myself. Octavia felt she was above the task, so I completed it on both our behalf.”
Mr. Peters looks over to me with an eyebrow raised. “Miss Royal, if you’ll please stay behind.”
I groan and drop my head onto the table, waiting for the rest of the class to filter out, the snickers following as they go. When the last person has left and closed the door, I grab my bag and head to his desk. “Mr. Peters, I wasn’t aware that our proposals were due today, and Lincoln hasn’t exactly been open to being my partner—today was the first time I knew he’d even been working on it. If you give me an extension, I can make notes on his proposal and expand on the presentation.”
He leans back on his chair, and the look of indignation on his face tells me just how much he believes me. I could fucking kill Lincoln. Does he have any idea how much I need to pass this class?
“Miss Royal, it’s obvious from your work and lack of attention that you are not dedicated to this class.” He stands, moving closer to me before perching on the edge of the desk. “At this point, with what you’ve done so far, you are looking at a failing grade on this project.”
The blood drains from my face, and I feel a little woozy. I can’t fail this class.
I just can’t.
“Please, Mr. Peters, if there is anything I can do, I’ll do it. I need to pass this class.” I hate that I’m begging. I hate what Lincoln has reduced me to yet again.
The lewd smile that crosses his pasty face makes me feel sick. He stands up and brushes back my hair behind my ear, and I shudder. “I’m sure we can think of some way for you to earn extra credit.”
“Mr. Peters, that isn’t exactly what I was intending.” I take a step backward, toward the door, and he follows again, reaching for his zipper.
“I hear things, you know. No one would have to know, not that they’d believe you if you said anything. I’m a respected teacher and well… I saw that video. A few times.”
My stomach rolls as he pulls his dick from his pants, and I look anywhere but at him.
“No, Mr. Peters. I won’t do it.”
“A little whore like you must be very good at sucking dick. Imagine how easy that A would be. I’m sure you’re a girl of many talents.” He walks closer toward me until my back slams against the door. This can’t be happening to me right now. “Be a good girl and get on your knees.”
“No!” I shout, pushing him away from me. “You’re a fucking pervert. I’m not going to do anything for you.”
His face turns red as he tucks his dick away. “You’ll regret that. And you’ll fail this class no matter what you do. No one would think twice about a girl like you failing this class.”
Angry tears prick at my eyes, and I blink them back.
“Fuck you, Mr. Peters.”