Page 19 of Masters of Play

"No." Professor Sinead put up his hand. His forearm was pushed straight out as though he would strongarm me if I came near him. In fact, he took a step back away from me and toward the door.

I only knew a handful of people whose safe word was no. My friend Josie was one of them. She believed if her body told her no, then that was the end of the scene. She didn't want to have her brain, or her play partner, trying to interpret any other word for stop.

While my brain heard Professor Sinead loud and clear, my body was so used to words like pineapple, Beetlejuice, and Justin Bieber to call the end to fun. With those words in mind, I took another step forward.

"That's enough, Ms. Prince."

Wait? Was he actually saying no to me?

"You're a student," he said. "There's a no fraternization policy. I could lose my job."

"I won't be a student after my defense."

"If you are successful in surpassing your defense."

My brain was a bit scrambled trying to substitute the word no for its actual meaning. Was I now adding prefixes to words that didn't need them? I only had to pass my defense, not surpass it.

"The paper you turned in to me last week would've passed," said Professor Sinead as he opened the door to his classroom. "I don't expect you to only pass. Like I said, you have one of the most brilliant minds that I've ever had the pleasure of teaching. I expect great things out of you."

I may have spontaneously orgasmed standing in front of him. That was more praise than I could handle. The endorphins flooded my veins and made me feel like I could fly.

"Fix your data set," said Professor Sinead.

"When I fix my data set and kill it at my defense, then you'll fu… analyze my measurement tool?"

Professor Sinead's nostrils flared. His lips parted, and he tugged his lower lip into his mouth. I got a peek of his pink tongue. The sight of it reminded me of how it felt plunging into my mouth.

Unbidden, I took a step toward him.

Professor Sinead let out a long, low sigh. His gaze never left mine. Just the heat coming off him was enough to give me a good suntan.

"What would your kink meter tell you, Ms. Prince?"

"I don't need the meter—"

"Yes, you do. Solve the equation and then you'll have the answer you want."

Did he just cock block me with math? "Bastard."

A slow grin spread across Professor Sinead's face. He took one, then two steps forward. His stride was so long that that was all it took for him to stand before me. He dipped his head and brushed his lips against mine. Just a taste. And then he moved to the side and out of my reach.

"I expect exceptionalism, Ms. Prince. Do not disappoint me."

I wouldn't. I was gonna solve the hell out of this equation. And then I was going to rock Professor Sinead's statistical world.

Chapter Twelve

I hate math.

Like, hate it. Like, if it was a cockroach on the wall, I'd spray it with Raid. Then stomp it. Then burn it.

But like the cockroach that math is, the little fucker would probably survive the poison-stomp-fire and crawl back on my wall the next night. Because here it was the next night after Professor Sin left me all hot and bothered and unsatisfied, and I still couldn't quantify this formula to figure out my data set.

I was running out of time. My dissertation defense was in just three days. If I didn't solve this data set, incorporate it into the main body of my work, and do one last read-through, I was fucked. And not in the way I wanted to be.

I was tired. My body ached. My brain was foggy. I was so irritable that both Maree and Josie begged off girl's night and told me to go get a massage instead. Or better yet, get laid.

They were right on that front. I needed a release. But I’d missed my last session at the club with the twins because I was drowning in dispersions and decimals and percentiles. I was fucked, so I didn't have time to get fucked.