I stared at the screen like it had personally betrayed me.

The blue checkmarks sat under the video I’d just sent—three minutes of me on my knees, naked, looking up at the camera with wet eyes and an open mouth, begging for my ex’s cock the way I used to when we were still together. The caption read: Miss this? Come take it back.

Only the name above the message wasn’t Liam’s.

It was Professor Hale.

Liam’s father.

My literature professor.

The straight, married, terrifyingly composed man who had spent the entire semester making me feel like every word I wrote was being dissected under a microscope. The same man...