Page 4 of Professor's Forbidden Temptation

“Yes. I wanted to discuss your review for tenure. Unless you’re... busy.” I can even hear the accusation in her words.

I have to get out of here. The last thing I want to do is get Cooper in trouble. “Oh, we’re just chatting,” I say, sounding much more put together than I feel. “I should get going anyway.”

“Thanks for stopping by, Emily,” Cooper says as I get out of my chair. “I enjoyed our talk.”

“Yeah,” I reply, feeling weak in the knees. “Me too.”

I hold myself together until I get to the single-stall bathroom down the hall from his office. Once I’m in a private place, I start giggling.

No one has ever made me feel like this, not even the few crushes I had in high school. Now that I know Cooper wants me, I’m filled with butterflies. I can’t wait to see him tomorrow, and I can’t wait to drop into his office hours for the rest of the semester. For the first time in my life, I’m excited about the prospect of romance.

Chapter 3

Cooper

I think about the kiss Emily and I shared the entire afternoon. It was even better than I imagined it would be. I could tell that she didn’t have much experience. Her movements were a little sloppy, lacking the finesse that comes with years of make out sessions. But what she lacked in experience, she made up for with enthusiasm.

Just one kiss was all it took, and now I’m absolutely addicted to her. My obsession has reached new levels. It eats at my insides, preventing me from sleeping – I need to know what she’s doing. I need to see her. Every moment she’s not in my sight, I feel like I’m going crazy.

Despite all her flirting and teasing, I could tell as soon as I touched her that she’s new to all of this. It’s amazing what that knowledge has done to me. If I was hungry for her before, I’m fucking ravenous now. Something about that innocence makes me want to defile her.

But more than anything, I want to protect her. Care for her. Her heart is still fresh and soft, not yet cracked and petrified by heartbreak. I want to keep that perfect and unspoiled forever. I want my love to ensure that she’ll never know that kind of pain.

Unfortunately, my feelings for her must be obvious, because Dr. Weiss spent our entire meeting making little asides about behaving appropriately. “It’s not just about following the rules to the letter, Dr. Flemming,” she said, all but wagging her finger at me in disapproval. “It’s about avoiding even the importance of impropriety. Even if you receive tenure, you will not be immune to consequences for poor behavior.”

The emphasis she put on if was hard to miss.

I need to get my head on straight and find some way to focus. But how am I supposed to do that if I don’t know where Emily is? How can I live without knowing how she spends her days? If I could follow her for just one day, maybe I could finally relax a little bit.

On impulse, I send out an email canceling all of my classes except Emily’s. Then, with the knowledge that I’m going to satisfy the all-consuming need to see her, I finally drift off into a sleep filled with dreams of the object of my desires.

Once I’m up and dressed, I go to campus. By the time I get there, Emily’s first class has already started. I consider dropping in, but I can see her through the open door, so, I decide against it.

The rush I’m getting from watching her without her knowledge is unlike anything else. I’ve always enjoyed sitting in on her classes, disappearing into a sea of faces so I can finally stare at her to my heart’s content, but this is different. Standing in the empty room across from hers, remembering our kiss while she sits there, none the wiser, feels so... intimate.

I hang back, far enough away that if my presence is detected, I can write it off as coincidence. Then, feeling secure with an excuse at the ready, I observe her. She’s attentive, but she doesn’t hang onto every word her professor says the same way she does when I’m teaching. It fills me with pride and makes my cock stir in my slacks. It’s one thing to know she’s interested in me; it’s another to see it in action.

When her class starts to wrap up, I shuffle down the hallway away to avoid being seen. I wait until I see her exit before slipping into the crowd and taking off after her. She leaves the building, heading to the coffee shop a block away from campus. The place is packed, so I don’t hesitate to go in a few minutes after her. By the time I get in line and have a drink in my hand, she’s found a table tucked away in the corner with her back to me. It’s risky, but I pass by her and look over her shoulder.

I’m pleased to see she’s working on the assignment for my class. When I followed her two days ago, I noticed that she was getting a head start on it. If I hadn’t known she’d already started on it, I would have encouraged her to do the review on the other book she suggested. Clearly she’s excited about the one she’s chosen, and I don’t want to stifle that. I’m sure that whatever she writes will be brilliant, regardless of what it’s about. It always is.

She works on the assignment for the next few hours. Eventually, with great hesitation, I leave to get to our class ahead of her. I’m positive she hasn’t caught onto what I’m doing, so I want to keep from attracting any unnecessary attention.

Emily arrives to the classroom about twenty minutes after I do, and ten minutes later, I start the discussion. I field questions about the assignment from her classmates for about half an hour. Then, when it’s clear all of the questions have been answered, I dismiss them early. Like every lesson before this one, Emily comes up to me instead of leaving.

“Ready to get started on this?” I ask when she stops in front of me.

“I actually finished the outline before I came to class today,” she admits, not knowing that I knew she was working on it. “Actually, I saw you in the coffee shop where I was working.”

“You did?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow to cover my surprise.

“I did,” she confirms. “I would have come and said hi, but I was really focused on what I was doing.”

“What a strange coincidence,” I say, glad she isn’t questioning my presence.

“It is,” she says as she fiddles with the hem of her sweatshirt. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, you know.”

My heart leaps. “Oh? And what have you been thinking?”

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