Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Yes. He was jealous of everyone. Not in the start. No, in the beginning, he was a different sort of person. Or so I thought. Now I see it was likely all a ruse to pull me in. He was like a spider luring me in so he could pounce. And once he had me in that web, it grew tighter and tighter until I couldn’t breathe.”
“Easy, baby.” He ran his hands up and down her arms. “Is there anything I can do to help you? Do you want anything?”
“I . . . I . . .” She gave him a funny look.
What was she after?
Her gaze moved to the side of her bed, where the nightstand was. Reaching over, he opened it and found her toy squirrel inside. Pulling it out, he handed it to her and watched as relief filled her face. Her entire body relaxed as she hugged the toy to her chest.
“What’s his name?”
“She’s a girl. Nutters.”
“Do you feel better?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She sounded so small and lost that it hurt him.
“Come here.” He drew her close to his chest, rocking her back and forth until the rest of the tension left her body. “Good girl. You’re all right. I’m here. I won’t let him hurt you ever again.”
Bebe was silent for a while, then she started to talk. “I thought he was so smart. He was older. A lot older. Like in his late forties.”
And she was now twenty-five.
The bastard was old enough to be her father.
What the hell?
Weren’t there rules about a professor getting involved with a student?
“I was flattered that he was taking extra time with me. I went to see him during office hours with a question and he was so helpful, and funny, and kind. He told me to come to him with anything and I thought that was just what a good professor did. I went back when I had something else I was struggling with and he scolded me for staying away for so long. I was . . . happy. No, that’s not quite the word. It was like he wanted to spend time with me and it felt so damn good.”
“I understand, baby.” After years of neglect from her parents, his attention had to feel euphoric to her. Fucking bastard was a predator. “What happened next?”
“He set up a weekly appointment for us. I thought it was a bit crazy, but when I got my next assignment back and saw that I barely passed, well, I figured I needed the help. I was so upset and he was so kind. I thought . . . I thought what a burden I was, but he was still so nice to me, giving up his free time. He said we had to meet in the evenings and that it would now have to be twice a week and could it be at his apartment because it was easier for him . . .”
“God,” he muttered. “That fucking asshole.”
“Before I knew it, his touches turned from friendly and short to longer caresses. And I told myself it was wrong. But he was so attentive. He wanted to know how I was doing in my classes. My dreams, my aspirations. He’d sit there and listen. When I told him about my mother, he was angry on my behalf. He understood me. Or I thought he did.”
“He groomed you.”
“Oh yeah,” she said quietly. “But I was too dumb to see it.”
He frowned. This was hard for her; he knew that. But he wouldn’t have her speaking badly about herself.
“Last warning, baby. No more saying you’re stupid or dumb or anything else derogatory. Understand?”
“I thought you didn’t have a lot of rules?”
“Seems I’m adding them all the time with you.”
She snorted. “Why am I not surprised?” She sighed. “When he kissed me for the first time, I was so confused. I knew I shouldn’t want him, but he stirred me. I’m not sure why I just went along with whatever he said, or why I obeyed him. But when he told me to open my mouth, I did. When he said to straddle his lap, I did.”
“He had the position of power. He was an authority figure. And you wanted to please him.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I remember wanting him to be happy with me. When I got a good grade in any subject, he was full of praise and I’d puff up like a rooster. When I got a bad one . . . I didn’t want to tell him. He would go all quiet. Tell me he was disappointed, but he knew I’d do better. Then he’d barely speak to me for the rest of the night. Sometimes . . . sometimes he’d send me away. That was the worst thing of all. It got to the point where I wanted to be with him. All the time. And when he was no longer my professor, I told myself it wasn’t as bad. So when he asked me to move into the apartment, I said yes.”