Page 23 of Masters of Play

This was it. That was me. I was Dr. Prince. The degree was just a bit of paperwork, but as soon as a PhD student completed their defense, they were a bonafide doctor.

Dr. Wroth stood, her feet wobbling under her as she did. Professor Sinead reached out a hand to steady her. She shied away from his touch. As she turned to go, I noticed there was what looked like a feather tucked into the bun of her tightly woven hair. She was out the door before I could give it a second glance.

Dr. Santos cleared out as well. He offered no congratulations. Just a sneer directed at me and a glare tossed to Professor Sinead.

The room was now clear, leaving only me and Sinead. I reached for him. But he backed away from my touch.

"Not here," he said.

"Why not? I'm not a student anymore."

"No, but I am still a teacher here. I still have a reputation to protect."

Professor Sinead eyed the closed door. There was no one on the other side. No one coming in.

"So you want to take me back to your place?" I asked.

"I stay in the same building as Dr. Santos." He finally tore his gaze away from the door and glanced down at me. He couldn't quite meet my eye. Just like he couldn't quite meet my gaze after he failed to defend me against Dr. Santos' snide comments the second time. "You have to understand. I'm in line for a promotion. I can't have anything potentially sully that."

"Oh. Oh, I get it. You don't want your reputation sullied by the sex doctor."

"Ms. Prince—"

"It's Dr. Prince," I corrected. "You were going to be calling me God. Now you don’t get to call me anything. But as a parting gift, you can watch my ass as I walk out the door."

Chapter Fourteen

I left the Psy Building, stomping down the steps and nearly taking Chad Hollinger out with my retreat march. I heard the words bitch and slut tossed at me from behind, but I didn't have the time nor the care to confront that attention-seeker. Besides, I outranked him on even more levels now. He was still a student. I was a doctor.

I tossed my rainbow-colored backpack onto the passenger seat of my car. The carefully collated papers of my dissertation spilled from its guts. The documents slipped out of their binding and flew up like a tornado and then fell down like rain.

Yup, that was pretty much how I was feeling right now. Like my bubble had burst. Like I had gotten to the end of the rainbow and there was no treasure from a well-hung leprechaun. Only rocks and dirt and a storm cloud there.

I'd done it. I'd achieved everything I’d worked for. I was done with my schooling and could now be the teacher myself. I didn't have to answer to anyone any longer.

So why did this victory feel so hollow?

Was it just about Sinead?

I'd never needed anyone to fight my battles for me. But when he'd done so, when he had defended me against that twat Dr. Santos, it had made me feel on top of the world. Like Sinead truly understood and respected me. It had been the best high, the purest air of sub space that I had had a whiff of in years. Now, when he'd taken that support from me, I felt like I'd dropped down to the earth with a splat.

I tugged at my pressed slacks. I wasn't wearing any panties today. I didn't need them because I already knew I was a big girl. I had been anticipating a big boy play date. There were no big boys here. Just ladder-climbing teachers who would leave their student behind at the whiff of a promotion.

Instead of heading home, I headed to the club. It was my happy place, filled with people like me who would understand me. People who wouldn't sneer at another person's sexual proclivities. People who wouldn't rip the ground out from under me… unless I asked them to because I had a shame kink or something.

Like, seriously, how rude are people like that? People like Dr. Santos who would openly try to shame others. Or even Dr. Wroth with her silent condemnation. Society no longer pointed and jeered at the physically or mentally disabled. Not polite society, anyway. So why was it still okay to snort and cringe at what someone did with their clothes off?

Hypocrites.

Sinead was the biggest hypocrite of them all. We were supposed to be naked together right now. But he was keeping his suit and tie on so he could blend in with those prudes. Even though I knew the man was topped off with all manner of deviancy.

I mean, who the hell would watch his student being tied up and made to come while sitting all stoic? Only a Dom would exhibit that kind of behavior. I'd bet he was a Gentle Dom. The type to appear calm, cool, and collected on the outside. But as soon as you push the right button, they become sadistic bastards who delight in meting out punishment.

Yeah, that was totally the vibe I got from him. And now I wasn't going to get vibed by him. I brushed an angry tear from my cheek as I slammed my car door closed and headed for the door of the club.

I felt sorry for Sinead. Really, I did. Because here I was at the kinky carnival. I was about to let my freak flag fly, and I didn't care who saw it.

I burst through the doors of the club, expecting to see naked bodies grinding on the floor. Instead, I had to swat at rainbow-colored streamers hanging from the ceiling. Once I finally managed to get the thin sheets of paper out of my face, I was met with people shouting my name.