I arrived already wet.

The corridor of the humanities building was empty again when I reached his door at 6:50 p.m. My skirt felt too light against bare skin. No underwear, as instructed. The knowledge of what waited on the other side of the door had kept me aching for most of the afternoon. I knocked once.

“Come in. Lock it.”

I locked the door. Elias stood behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, the lamp throwing the same warm circle of light across the wood. He looked at me for a long moment, eyes moving from my face down to the hem of my skirt and back up.

“Show me.”...