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I was lying in bed a few hours later when my phone dinged. Opening my email notifications I found one from Andy with an attachment.

Damn, that kid worked fast.

I sent the document to the printer and watched as a bullet-pointed list starting feeding into the tray.

Mother fucker.

He really hadn’t written the paper for me.

I chuckled as I pulled the pages from the chute, flipping through the admittedly extensive notes. It was like he was baiting me.

But what did he really want from me? He had to know that after our little talk earlier, I wasn’t going to continue to bully him the way that I had for far too long.

Unless…

Unless that was exactly what he expected me to do.

What he wanted me to do.

I set the papers back down and grabbed my phone, flopping onto the bed and pulling up my trusty search engine again. Apparently I wasn’t quite done researching things about Andy Simpson.

Can a man have sex before becoming a priest?

Chapter Nine

~Andy~

Even though I was expecting it eventually, I was still startled when an arm darted out from a doorway and gripped my shirt before tugging me into an empty classroom, the door slamming behind me.

“This isn’t what we agreed to,” Trevor said angrily, holding up a fistful of papers in front of me. “You were supposed to write the paper.”

“Fuck you,” I snapped. “I didn’t agree to that. Write your own fucking paper. Or fail. I don’t give a shit.”

I’d spent years not fighting back against him. Taking his abuse, letting him push me around and tease me, taunt me. But this turn the other cheek shit wasn’t working anymore.

And the fact that he’d done all of it because he thought I’d done something to him didn’t excuse any of it. There was fighting back, and then there was just standing up for myself. And it was time I started to at least do that.

Trevor moved closer, his free hand pressed to the wall behind me, his body boxing me in, even with space between us. His gaze locked on mine, staring into my eyes, as if he were searching for something inside me.

Touch me.

I hated how badly I wanted it. I knew that by refusing to write his paper for him I was taunting him. Goading him. Practically begging him to hurt me. My actions screaming for something I could never ask him for with my words.

Touch me.

“Princess, what the fuck am I going to do with you?” He tossed the papers onto the floor and glared at me, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he raked his gaze over my face.

Fucking touch me.

And then his hand was sliding over my throat again, fingers squeezing tightly over my Adam’s apple this time, instead of pressing back to restrict my airflow. The motion was clearly deliberate, he wasn’t trying to hurt me…he was testing me.

I had no idea where the pass or fail lines were for him, but once again I grew hard at his touch, my cock swelling painfully against my zipper.

“Is this what you want?” he whispered, closing the gap between us, pressing his thigh against my groin.

Yes.