With Love, from Spain

7. Magic words.

I'm standing outside of Tomás' door, ready for our meeting. I made sure to wake up extra early so I could shower, put on a little bit of makeup, and even stop for a morning coffee. I glance at my phone -- five minutes early. Perfect. I can't wait to show Tomás that I'm not the stupid American fuckup that he thinks I am. I am determined to get this guy on my good side.

I knock twice and within seconds, Tomás is standing in the doorway. His tortoise-shell glasses are in his hand and he wears an annoyed expression, as though I just pulled him away from some incredibly important task. My positive attitude flies out the window. This guy really knows how to get under my skin.

I force a smile. "Me estabas esperando, no? Our meeting is for 10 AM."

He dramatically lifts up his wrist and looks down at his expensive-looking watch. In Spanish, he says, "You're 3 minutes early. Come in, Señorita Reid."

Whoa...his office is gorgeous. I take a seat across from him. Floor-to-ceiling windows line the wall behind his desk, revealing a gorgeous Madrid and its inhabitants down below. Tomás brings my attention back to him by clearing his throat. He speaks to me in heavily accented English.

"I'm glad to see you were on time today, seeing as you were late to my last class. I was going to suggest that you buy a watch."

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.

"I was late to your class once."

"And you were using your phone on the very first day. Two offenses, both incredibly disruptive. Maybe you need to reassess your priorities."

I cross my legs in a huff, struggling to stay composed. This guy is such a dick!

"What else can I do but apologize? I'm not going to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness."

A flicker of amusement passes through Tomás' eyes. He smirks, and I reflexively bite my lip.

"No, señorita, I won't be asking you to get on your knees just yet." He is so impossibly sexy that I want to melt. His chocolate-colored eyes stare right into mine, and I feel like he is daring me to play along. And even though I'm enjoying his flirtatiousness, I decide to make him sweat.

I abruptly stand up, almost knocking my chair backwards, and give my best telenovela shocked face. "EXCUSE ME! I will NOT be spoken to in that way. Do you think it's okay for professors to flirt with their students? How dare you!"

Tomás looks confused. He runs his hands through his hair and reaches for his glasses, trying to save face. "Perdón, Cole--". 

I picture Lila's oh-my-god face when I tell her about this later on and almost burst out laughing. But I hold my composure, and turn angrily to the door. I feel like I'm giving an Oscar-worthy performance.

With my hand on the knob, I hear Tomás rise from his chair. I freeze. Suddenly, he's just inches behind me. He reaches out and places his hand against the door. I swallow hard, feeling the heat of his body at my back.

"You're not actually angry, are you, Cole?"

I say nothing, hoping he can't hear my heart racing.

In one motion, he places a hand on my shoulder and turns me around so my back is pressed up against the door.

"I asked you a question. Dáme una respuesta." He's weaving his Spanish and English now, which has quickly become my ultimate weakness.

I shake my head but can't bring myself to look him in the eye. "No, professor. I was just playing around with you, trying to get the upper hand."

Tomás places his hand beneath my chin and urges me to look up at him. "You'll never get the upper hand with me, Cole. ¿Entiendes? I am in charge. Always."

My mouth hangs just slightly open, and I catch myself hoping Tomás kisses me. Now that he's so close, I can really get a sense of how tall he is. It doesn't take much to tower over me, given that I'm around 5'4, but Tomás is easily inches above six feet. He leans in to me ever so slightly, but stops himself before anything can happen. I can tell that this man is obsessed with control: he is as cold as ice, never letting his true emotions shine through.

We stand there staring at each other for a few intense seconds. He already has me up against this wall, why doesn't he just kiss me? I realize that I could initiate the kiss, but I already understand that that would be breaking some unspoken rule between us. Like he said, he is in charge here.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. After a few more seconds, I ask, "Can I go now?" I feel like I've been holding my breath for the past ten minutes.

Tomás replies immediately, his accent heavy. "What's the magic word?"

I bite my lip, so turned on I can barely stand it. "...Please?" I wait, and nothing. We could be standing here all day, not that I would really mind. I'm quickly coming to enjoy his sly comments, his domineering nature. I don't really know what he and I are doing, but I know that it feels like trouble.  

"Please, sir?"I try. Tomás doesn't budge. Then I think to repeat the request in Spanish. "Por favor, señor."

Tomás smirks, and I can almost see the dirty thoughts running through his head. I know, because I'm having the exact same ones.

"Good girl," he says simply, and opens the door for me to leave.