The Psychology of Falling in Love

XIV. November 6th & November 7th

"Can anyone tell me the difference between criminal psychology and forensic psychology in terms of profiling?"

A few hands darted up, but my eyes fell upon Aria. "Aria, go ahead."

"Forensic psychology analysts look for mental illnesses, motivation and drive, and levels of accountability. A lot of this is after the fact," she grinned, her eyes bright with excitement. Shit, that's adorable. Calm down, Claire St. James. "Criminal psychology analysts are the ones who make the profiles that we see on TV. They lay the basis for the who and how."

I nodded, giving her two thumbs up. I hopped up onto the table at the front of the lecture hall, linking my ankles together and letting them swing.

"Now, criminal profiling is efficient, but not used as often as TV shows like Criminal Minds would cause you to think. The act in itself is attuned to every aspect: criminology, sociology, psychology—people as a whole. But the one thing about humans is..."

"We are always unpredictable," the class erupted.

I clapped my hands together to signal the end of the lesson. The kids gathered all their materials, their talking and shuffling causing a headache to form behind my eyes. Just a few more weeks.

"Well, hello gorgeous," Aria's voice carried a smile.

"Hi, my love," I quietly hummed, cracking one eye open to look over at her. "What are you up to after Dr. Gettis' class?"

She shrugged, her hypnotic blue eyes sparkling. "Dunno. I have the evening off from work, so I'm at a loss..."

"Well," I looked around at the students still milling around the classroom. "I need to speak to you. Would you come to my office with me, please?"

"Of course, Dr. St. James," Aria smirked. That cocky grin gets me every time.

We maneuvered around students and faculty, quietly forging our path to my office. Once we were at the threshold, Aria offered her hand for my bags. I smiled my gratitude to her and unlocked the door.

Not even two seconds after I shut the door and turned the lock, Aria muttered:

"Man, how kinky would that be? To have sex on your desk, in your office?"

I choked on my saliva and my face heated up. "W-well, uh, I—shit."

The silver-tongued devil chortled as she leaned against my desk. Her black bomber jacket slanted off of her, giving me a view of her nipples erected against her white t-shirt. "Cat got your tongue, Dr. St. James?"

"I'll have one on my tongue in a second if you don't stop," I muttered. With a huff, I cornered her between me and my desk.

"So fussy," she whispered, her eyes flicking between mine and my lips.

"I hope you know," I growled, my eyebrows raised. I leaned forward and kissed her neck. "The restraint I have right now."

"Sorry, sorry," Aria apologized quickly. "Uhm, I didn't mean—"

"I like it, Aria."

Her gorgeous eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "Huh?"

I smiled and leaned my forehead against hers, nuzzling the tip of her nose with mine. "I enjoy it. The anticipation, the teasing, the wait in between. It makes the moment more...explosive."

"Wow, you're a masochist." Her tone was joking, but the relief was evident.

"And?" I shrugged. "Now, what are you up to this evening, Miss Erickson?"