Chapter 67: Chapter 67: Dean Alexandria Sinclair
"Dean Sinclair is ready for you now, Mr. Blake," the receptionist announced.
Ethan stood up and straightened his jacket, feeling the adrenaline return.
"Please, wait here," the receptionist told Jason as Ethan walked past. Jason nodded, settling back into a chair, his expression instantly becoming a granite mask of patience.
Ethan stepped through the door and found himself in a spacious, executive office bathed in soft, natural light. The room was modern but warm, lined with books and awards.
Behind a large mahogany desk sat Alexandria Sinclair.
Ethan stopped, momentarily stunned. The dean had far exceeded his aesthetic expectations. Alexandria was a spectacular woman.
She appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties, with striking dark hair pulled back severely, which only highlighted her sharp features.
She wore a tailored, form-fitting pencil dress that did absolutely nothing to conceal her figure: her breasts were enormous, straining the fabric, and her hips flared into an enviably wide, full ass.
As Ethan walked closer, he noticed a sliver of black lace peaking out from beneath the dress’s hem, suggesting a thong or perhaps even a garter belt. She was dressed for power, but accessorized for sin.
"Mr. Blake. Please, sit down," Alexandria said, her voice deep, intelligent, and husky. She gestured to a plush chair across from her.
Ethan sat. He felt an immediate, dizzying tension.
"I must admit, Mr. Blake, I took this meeting as a courtesy to my friend, Victoria—a favor, you understand. MIT doesn’t typically accept unsolicited, highly unusual proposals." She gave him a slow, appraising look that lingered on his chest. "But I see now why Victoria was so eager for me to meet you."
Ethan smiled, playing the innocent heir. "I appreciate you making the time, Dean Sinclair. I know my request is unconventional, but I assure you it’s worth the risk."
"Indeed. Your file mentions a proprietary USB drive containing classified research. A remarkable claim, especially given your... hiatus from academia." She leaned back slightly, adjusting her posture. The movement was entirely deliberate, causing the neckline of her dress to gape just enough to give Ethan a generous, undeniable view of her straining cleavage and the deep valley between her large breasts.
Ethan stared openly for a beat longer than was socially acceptable, before meeting her eyes with a confident heat. He was being tested, baited.
"My father ensured I was well prepared. As for the hiatus, well, personal tragedy required me to step away and manage family affairs," Ethan explained, offering the necessary lie. "It was a difficult time after my parents’ passing, and I had to grow up very quickly."
As Ethan spoke, the Dean reached down, ostensibly to adjust a file on the floor. Her dress rode up slightly, and she spread her knees, giving him an unmistakable view of the black lace garter and the exposed flesh beneath.
Ethan nearly choked on his next word. He quickly bent forward, pretending to adjust his shoe, trying to get a better look at the details, but Alexandria instantly shifted, denying him a full view. She was enjoying this.
"I see. A man forced into responsibility. Commendable," she observed. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, the massive gravity of her chest settling dangerously close to the mahogany. "The problem, Mr. Blake, is that you requested a highly personalized, non-standard system access and full protection from external monitoring. That usually comes with a substantial fee."
Ethan braced himself for the astronomical price. "I am prepared to discuss funding..."
"No, Mr. Blake," Alexandria cut him off with a slow, captivating smile. "I think, for the sake of Victoria, and perhaps just to see where this all goes..." She paused, her eyes tracing the muscular line of his neck. "I don’t need money for this. I will approve the special access. But I will do it only on one condition."
Ethan tensed. "And what is that, Dean?"
"If I ever need a favor from you in the future—no matter what it is, no questions asked—you promise me, right now, that you will help me," she demanded. "And remember, that favor will be owed to me, Alexandria Sinclair, not to the university."
Ethan grinned, his confidence soaring. "That’s a deal, Dean Sinclair. What kind of favor do you anticipate needing?"
"I’ll tell you in the future, Mr. Blake. Just remember our promise."
Ethan stood, and they reached across the desk to shake hands. As their palms met, Alexandria slowly trailed her index finger across the center of his palm, a slow, deliberate caress that sent a jolt of raw provocation through him.
Ethan looked up, his eyes immediately searching hers for a direct explanation, but her expression had snapped back to professional seriousness.
"Excellent. You may go now, Mr. Blake," she said with a dismissive but lingering smile. As she spoke the words, she subtly crossed her legs again, the movement deliberately hitching her dress up high, giving Ethan a final, breathtaking view of the black lace garter and the muscular inner thigh before he turned away.
Ethan walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving the electric charge hanging in the air. The System instantly roared in his head.
[WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, CHAMPION?!] The System screamed in frustration. [All that staring and flirting, that finger-fuck in your palm, and you came out with just a promise?! I expected more! You should have at least got a feel!]
Ethan smirked as he walked back to Jason. I didn’t expect to have to put in the work, he thought. "I know, I know. But some women aren’t that easy, System. This one is on a whole other level. She acts like a slut, she dresses like a slut, but she wants to pretend she’s a saintly nun! I’ll probably have to invest some serious time and money if I want to fuck this one."
[She’s a damn tease!] The System grumbled in a final burst of frustration. [Anyway, let’s get that program. You owe her a favor now.]