chapter 2

The walk back towards my apartment is unbearably cold, but the promise of what is to come keeps me warm deep inside. 

There's j ust something so burning hot about sin, even when it's as innocent and mild as the naughty things swirling around in my head. 

I'm a good girl, I really am, but even good girls do something had every once in a while. After all, wasn't it Alexander Pope who said 'To err is human?'. 

I giggle to myself as my frozen fingertips painfully unlock my apartment door, and I hurry inside. 

I shed my extra layers and quickly pull my laptop back from my bag before discarding the rest of my belongings on to the floor. I shake off my snow-covered shoes on my way to my sofa and sit with a soft thud on the comfy pillow top that's shamelessly covered in Cheeto dust and candy wrappers. 

Heaving my laptop onto my lap, I kick my feet up on my coffee table and open my internet browser. I click the bookmark titled "Bookish-Escapes.com" and wait impatiently for the screen to load. I didn't realize it at first, but I had begun gnawing on my bottom lip in anticipation. 

As soon as the website loads, the direct messenger feature springs up and life instantly ignites back into my emerald eyes. Like clockwork, I have a message from him. 

IchabodTom

Hello, my lovely Lane. I've missed you terribly. 

I suck in a soft breath at his admission. It's been four months like this. Messaging each other back and forth every evening, but guilt has made its way into my heart. No matter how badly we both want to, we can never talk like this face to face. 

LiteraryLane21 

And I've missed you. Tell me about your Sunday. 

I hit send and wait for his response. He doesn't usually take very long, but I still decide to make myself some tea while I wait. I slide on slippery socks into the kitchen and turn my kettle on. I unfold a tea bag, placing it gingerly in my baby blue mug, and grab the honey from a cabinet. Leaning against the cold marble counter top, I hug my arms across my shoulders and start to reminisce. 

It all began so innocently, I swear. 

I had walked up to his desk last semester to hand in my assignment after spending far too long rummaging through every single one of my folders for it. The class had cleared out already, and professor Thomas Crane was lost in his computer screen. 

"I finally found it, sir, sorry about that." He looked up at me with vibrant blue eyes and gave me a comforting smile, gorgeous dimples decorating his cheeks as he did. "No worries, Sophia. I look forward to reading your work. You are very talented." His voice was the definition of masculinity, and just like every other girl on campus, I was hooked. 

Professor Crane grabbed my assignment from me and began walkng it over to his briefcase for safe keeping. Out of the corner of my eye, 

I saw something pop up on his screen and heard a small chime. I knew it was rude to look, but I just couldn't help myself. A message for IchabodTom was displayed before my eyes, and I struggled not to giggle. I couldn't help but to think how absolutely clever his username was, and it honestly made my heart throb even harder with longing for, well, more. The depths of my mind had already started unraveling a very seliish plan before I even realized it, and now here we are. 

Almost lovers. 

That same familiar chime pulls me back from my memories, and at the same time, my kettle begins to wail. 

I quickly pour the hot liquid into my glass and iinish it off with a dollop of honey before scurrying back over to my computer. 

IchabodTom 

I 've just been preparing my lessons for next semester. God, I wish you were here with me. I could use your expertise on Shakespearean sonnets right about now. Although, I don't know if I 'd be so focused on sonnets if you were beside me. I ’m desperate to meetyou, darling. 

I wouldn't be so eager, Professor. 

I roll my eyes to myself but can't deny his words affect me. I feel a familiar warmth spreading through my chest. If only he knew who I was, a pair of hungry eyes among many others watching him teach, undressing him with my gaze all the while. If he knew I was a student, he would want nothing more to do with me. 

If there's one thing I know about my professor, it's that he's not weak-willed or foolish enough to risk his career over a student. He would hate me for what I've done if he ever discovered the truth, and even if there were a student convincing enough to lure him into their bed it wouldn't be me. 

I've given Thomas a vague description of my appearance, but nothing that could ever give away my true identity. I've told him I'm an adult woman who lives in the area, but that I'm much too shy to meet him in person. I know I'm absolutely terrible, but my heart has never been so enamored by someone before. I crave him even if he never knows who I really am. 

LiteraryLane21 

Why is it a man as captivating as yourself has decided to devote his nights to conversing with an anonymous stranger instead ofwooing a flesh and blood woman? Honestly, Thomas, haven't you any urges? 

I hit send then press my warm teacup up to my lips. The floral aroma relaxes me as I sink deeper into my position on the couch. 

Professor Crane could easily have any woman he desires, and it's been a mystery to me for some time now why he wastes his efforts with me, or well, with LiteraryLane21. 

IchabodTom 

Nothing, and I mean nothing could compare to your mind, Lane. Flesh and blood could never please me even half as well as your words already do. The only woman I want is the one connected to your wit and charm. I have unbearable urges, but whoever said I wasn't acting on them ? 

I squeeze my thighs shut and shiver. He's become so bold lately. I sit and stare at his words for several seconds wondering just what we are. We're far more than friends but less than lovers. I'm not a virgin, but I wouldn't say I'm killing it either. It's not that men haven't tried, believe me, they have, It's just that none of the right men have tried. 

All things considered, I know I'd be the first to admit that I have a lot to learn about sexual experimentation, but I know what acting on them means. 

My professor has been getting off to me. 

I bite my lip, a lustful courage foreign to me building in my burning core. I press my fmgers to the keys and swallow the pool of saliva that's formed on my tongue. 

LiteraryLane21 

You mean to tell me you’ve been getting off to the thought of me... how selfish. I think I deserve something in return. 

Send. 

Oh god Sophia what are you doing? You aren't this girl. Or maybe you are, maybe this is who you've become after a semester of watching this gorgeous older man prance around in tight dress shirts and revealing slacks. 

I clench every muscle in my body, scolding myself for these inappropriate musings that I have absolutely no intention of putting an end to. 

My computer chimes once more, and I brace myself for his response. 

IchabodTom 

Usually, I wait until the third date to make a girl come, but with you, I'm willing to make an exception. 

Oh dear lord, have mercy on my soul.