Chapter 7: Office Hours

"Me too. Is that crazy?"

"No, Chloé."

Without needing to confirm their next moves, they got up, grabbed their stuff, and began walking down the hallway together. When students from class walked by, he whirled up a false story.

"And this is only because it's the beginning of the semester. Once it gets later, I won't be able to make these exceptions for office hours, but since you'll be in the hospital ..." he trailed off.

"Oh, I understand. Thank you for making time for me."

When Chloé stepped closer to him giggling, he explained that two of the students that passed by had come to him asking to switch office hours and he had refused.

"I think we sold it well though, don't you?" he asked her. She smiled with a quick nod.

Once they arrived at his office, he unlocked the door and ushered her inside. After they were through the door, he locked them in. The overhead fluorescent bulbs were glaring but he had a smaller lamp on his desk with a green shade made of glass. He switched the smaller light on and then walked to the wall switch, flicking the overhead ones off.

As he stood, his left hand resting on the desk, Chloé studied at him. She could barely see the hair on his chest peeking around his collarbone at the edge of his red Oxford. The shirt was unbuttoned at the top underneath his charcoal-black sweater. She glanced at his beautiful skin and then up at his eyes.

"Come closer to me, Ms. Masters," he whispered.

Chloé felt like she was going to faint as she entered his space. She gazed up at him in the dim light. He held her chin with his index finger and thumb, then kissed her once. She could feel how warm his breath was as his soft lips brushed over hers. This time, he didn't let her go and continued.

Chloé could feel his fingertips inching down her neck and the way his thumbs pressed against her jaw, made it so she wouldn't leave. She never wanted to. She yearned for him to own her so she could always be his. He was going to, soon.

They continued, the tips of their tongues touching tenderly as he brought her to his body. As their forms pressed together, she could feel the rise in temperature of his chest and the smell of excitement through his clothes. She imagined being everything for him, always.

He was worth it to her, already. That much she knew. After several years of being alone by choice, she knew what was going to be good enough and he was far beyond anything she thought she deserved. Pulling her out of her mental levitation, he suddenly pushed her up against the wall.

Leaning in, he pressed himself to her, holding her face and kissing her repeatedly. She was gasping each time their bodies grazed one another. Just as she was about to lose herself, suddenly, a shadow passed by outside. They both ducked down.

"Oh, my god," Chloé whispered, covering her mouth fearfully.

"It's only a tiny window," Kemal said, assuredly. "I'll make sure I'm the only one who sees you." His eyes searched her hungrily and then without control, his mouth was on hers again. She loved that he held her face in two hands again.

Chloé backed up and helped him pull his sweater up over his head. Then she laid down on the floor.

"I'm sorry. Look at this," he placed his sweater underneath her. "A woman like you deserves so much more, but ..." he trailed off. "Is this alright?"

"Yes, I want to be here."

Chloé moved her hands to his shirt, running them along his chest. As each button was opened, she brushed her nails over his tan skin. She hid her fingers in the thick forest of hair on his chest just as she had wanted to from the moment she laid eyes on him. She moaned quietly at the sight and sensation. He glanced at her and then he gently tugged the bottom of her shirt, indicating a request for permission to take it off.

Chloé pulled her cream-colored shirt up over her head. He sat back for a moment on his feet and stared at her. He began to say things in his language that she could only assume were about her body. There was a tiny whimper that accompanied his words as he held his hands together.

Was he praying?

She sat up on her elbows to see him better and he moved to her again, softly caressing her. Chloé was at his mercy as he stimulated her body. The way he tantalizingly stroked her exposed skin was hypnotic. Her body was craving for him to make contact with the rest of her. She unsnapped her bra for him, exposing her voluptuous breasts.

He covered his mouth for a moment and then gently caressed her nipples with the back of his fingers, slowly and softly. She could feel the hair on his fingers against her sensitive skin.

When he sat up, he just stared at her. "I've never touched someone quite as ... inviting as you. You are so, so beautiful," he paused. "I don't have the proper words to say right now."

"Then, don't speak. Be with me," Chloé begged. He nodded and held onto her neck then kissed it gently. She could feel the slight scrape of his short facial hair on her skin. He continued down to her collarbone and onto the middle of her chest.

He kissed one nipple and then the other but didn't stop there. As he moved to her left, Chloé wondered if he could see the silly tattoo on her ribs she had gotten when she was eighteen. For a moment she felt self-conscious until he began to brush his lips over the ink.

When he got to her stomach, she felt insecure but he wasn't fazed by it. His lips traveled shamelessly over her skin. He continued farther down into the valley of her stomach.

Just as he began to kiss her inner thighs, a scream from outside broke their focus. The two both turned their heads in the direction of the window at the farther end of his office.

"What was that?" Chloé asked, sitting up and covering her chest with her shirt. Kemal stood and began to walk toward the back window.

Chloé followed him. He turned to her and moved her out of view, shielding her. She pulled her bra and then her shirt on.

When she walked back over to the window, he was scanning back and forth. Then they heard it again.

"Oh, my god. What should we do?" Chloé asked him.

"I think I should go outside."

"Well, then I'm coming with you," Chloé insisted. He turned to her, hesitated in concern, but then nodded. They headed down the three flights of stairs to the ground floor. When they exited the building, it wasn't long before they saw a trail of something red.

"What is that?" Chloé whispered, in terror.

"It looks like blood," Kemal said. They followed the droplets until they came upon a girl who was bleeding around her neck and torso. He gasped and crouched down to her. "Are you alright?" he asked.

The girl's breathing was labored but she seemed to be stable. She relayed a story to them about someone chasing and biting her.

"That's so awful ... and strange. What did they look like?" Chloé asked.

"It was hard to see," the victim said. She was beginning to shiver from shock.

At that moment the police showed up, then an ambulance. Chloé and Kemal agreed they'd catch up later and went their separate ways.

As she drove home, she felt horrified about what had happened. It was a well-lit campus and it was barely night. She couldn't fathom who was brave enough to take a risk in attacking in front of students, faculty, and staff. That kind of person was especially dangerous.

Once inside her apartment, she locked the door and pulled all her shades. She closed her bedroom window, locking it, prompting her to check the locks on the rest. A shudder ran through her as she imagined sleeping alone. Maybe Kemal would come to see her.

After finding her phone in her bag, she saw that Kemal had texted her. He let her know that he learned more about the girl. Apparently, she had been attacked by some guy who said he wanted to drink her blood.

"There are some strange people in this world," was the last thing he wrote.

Chloé wasn't sure what to say after that. Was it okay to ask him to come by? She decided to be brave and put it out there. He said he'd be over in twenty minutes.

The apartment was small, so it wasn't hard to clean up before he arrived. As she was washing the last dish, she heard a car pull up and then saw his headlights through the slits in her blinds. She heard the car door open, close, and then there was a knock.

It would take years to stop her heart from skipping whenever Kemal was near, she thought. Maybe it would never stop. She tiptoed over to the door, just in case it wasn't him by some strange coincidence. She peered through the peephole.

Kemal was standing there, his black coat over his crimson-red Oxford shirt. He glanced down and adjusted his watch. Chloé opened the door for him. He smiled but then said, "There isn't a spot for me, so I parked down on the street. It won't get towed, will it?"

"Oh, no. That's perfect," she said. "Come in."

Kemal entered her apartment, took his coat off, and then lifted it, silently asking where to hang it. She took it from him and when she closed the door, she hung it on the coat hanger in the corner.

"So, this is my humble abode," Chloé said nervously. "I know it isn't much."

"Please, do not apologize. You live here. That is all that I need."

Chloé felt butterflies in her stomach when he said that. She wondered what was going to happen. Would they pick up where they left off?