CALDER.

I arrived ten minutes early and the hallway was empty.

Professor Voss opened the door the second I knocked. He locked it behind me without a word. The blinds were already closed. Afternoon light filtered through the gaps in thin gold lines across the floor.

“Skirt up,” he said. “Hands on the desk.”

My pulse jumped. I walked to the desk, turned, and lifted the hem. Cool air touched everything. I placed my palms flat on the polished wood and leaned forward the way he wanted. The position left me open and exposed.

He stepped behind me. One hand settled on my hip. The other slid between my legs...