Christmas With the Professor by Sue Lyndon Page A

with my brother out of state. Flying during the holiday rush held less appeal than a trip to the dentist.
    “Angela?”
    I paused in the doorway, my heart beating out of my chest. “Yes, Dr. Taylor?”
    “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.” His tone was clipped.
    Shocked, I turned to face him with my best fuck-you glare. A hint of surprise stirred in his eyes for the briefest moment before amusement took over. As he strode from behind his desk toward me, the air went out of the room and the walls closed in. I was suffocating by the time he stopped an arm’s length away, but I kept my chin raised and my eyes steely in the face of his rudeness.
    “Do you have a ride home, Ms. Monroe?”
    Huh? Taken aback by his question, I twisted my hands together and took a deep, calming breath. “Yes I have a ride home. Uh, my friend is waiting outside the building, so I’d better go.”
    “You’re lying.” He folded his arms across his chest and his expression held a note of interest. My little white lie had him captivated, and this realization left me confused and angry.
    So what if I didn’t have a friend waiting outside? It was none of his business, and I wasn’t about to ask the professor who starred in most of my late night fantasies for a ride home. I squared my shoulders and smiled, no longer trying to hide my guilt. I could infuse some humor into the tense situation. Yes, humor would save the day.
    “All right, Dr. Taylor, you caught me.” I threw my hands up in exaggerated defense. “I don’t have a ride waiting. Are you going to make me write lines on the dry erase board for telling a lie?”
    “No, Angela, I’m not going to punish you.” Something strange passed between us when he said punish , a spark of dark desire I fought to hold on to forever, but it vanished in a flash. “I insist on driving you home though. I know you live a few blocks away and some of the sidewalks aren’t clear of snow, so no arguments.”
    Alone in a car with Dr. Taylor? Before I could respond, he packed up the tests and headed for his office down the hall. I followed like a kitten on his heels, half-believing I’d wake up to the sound of my blaring alarm clock at any moment. All business, he packed up some papers in a black leather bag while I lingered in the doorway. The building was dark and empty. Students cleared out as soon as their last final was over, teachers too.
    “Come in and have a seat. I’ll make coffee. You look positively frozen.” He gestured to a chair facing his desk.
    Although his office was like another dimension, and as forbidding as Dr. Taylor himself, I entered and sank down in the chair. I’m not going to punish you . His words sent a chill up my neck. Punish was a trigger word that awakened my most perverse desires. I watched him set up the coffeemaker. Was Dr. Taylor kinky?
    I imagined his tongue trailing over every inch of my body while I was bound to a bed, unable to move and completely under his control. He would tease me, bring me to the brink of orgasm before pulling away and leaving me empty, longing. “Don’t come until I give you permission,” he’d say. I would try to obey, but in the end I would fail and earn a much deserved punishment.
    “Angela? Hello? Ms. Monroe?”
    I jumped. “Sorry.” Oh God, I’d spaced out. How embarrassing.
    “Cream? Sugar?”
    I nodded. “Both please.”
    “How much?”
    “Surprise me. I trust you.” Shit, I was playing with fire. I accepted the mug and held his gaze as he leaned back against the front of his desk directly in front of me.
    “What are your plans after graduation?” He took a sip of coffee.
    I inhaled the strong aroma of the hot drink between my hands, appreciating the warmth of the beverage as it rolled down my throat. Then I launched into a brief description of my new job working for a local nonprofit. He seemed to approve, especially when I mentioned my interest in attending grad school in a few years.
    “You’re a