Page 11 of Hot Professor (Tainted Professors)

His hair is long enough to curl the tiniest bit at his nape, and it currently holds my attention while the scent of chalk dust tickles my nose. I love that he prefers the chalk board to the while board. He’s a bit of a contradiction. Each time he strolls past me—and he does it often—I catch a whiff of his aftershave—something warm and woodsy. I want to curl into the protective circle of his arms and tuck my nose into the curve of his neck.

“Class, remember to review chapters five through seven this weekend and we’ll discuss them on Monday.”Harrison’s smooth voice breaks into my daydreaming.

I wait until the room is half empty, remaining in my seat while slowly packing my things. I’m dragging it out, I know, but I can’t stop staring at his ass and wondering if it’s as tight looking naked.

“Is everything okay, Ivy?”Harrison’s golden-brown eyes lock onto mine as he gives me his full attention.

“Fine,”I squeak. “I’m fine, just, you know, dissecting JohnDryden’s‘An Essay of Dramatic Poesy.’”A nervous laughescapes, sounding more like a hiccup than anything remotely charming.

“Of course,”he chuckles, and the warmth in his smile unravels me. “Could you stay back for a moment? There are some assignments I’d like you to look over for one of my other classes, and I want to discuss my expectations for them.”

“Absolutely,”I reply, thinking this may be the perfect opportunity to try my hand at seduction. But as the last student walks through that door at the back of the room, my stomach somersaults.

“Here are the papers.”He hands me a stack, and our fingers touch—a jolt zings up my arm. “I like to take it easy on the first assignment, give everyone a chance to see what they’re capable of before I buckle down. So be generous where possible.”

“Generous?” I echo dumbly.

“Is that a problem?”He arches an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze.

“Uh, no, no problem...”I trail off.

“Great,”he smiles, and I notice the dimple on his right cheek, giving him a youthful appearance. He slips on his jacket. “Thank you, Ivy. I’ll see you Monday.”

My head jerks up. “Wait, you’re leaving?”The words tumble out before I can stop them.

“Plans this evening,”he says, and my gut knots with unfamiliar jealousy as I wonder what or who those plans involve.

“Right, of course.”I force a smile that feels more like a grimace as I watch him stride out, each step a hammer to my little fantasy.

So much for bravery and seduction.

The late afternoon light filtering through the windows into the classroom bleeds into twilight. I’m only halfway through the papers. My brain is tired. The only sounds are my pen scratchingand the distant hum of the janitor’s floor cleaner out in the hallway.

Then, the door creaks open.

I jump at the intrusion.

Harrison strides in. At first, he doesn’t spot me; he’s got his phone in his hand, and he’s looking down instead of up and in the direction he’s walking. His hair is tousled, and there’s a shadow of stubble on his jaw, darker than it seemed earlier, though it may be the lighting in the room that’s making him look rugged and sexy. He’s lost the sweater, and he’s wearing a white cotton shirt under the leather jacket now.

Casual Harrison is a game-changer.

When I cough, he pauses, and his head pops up, his gaze snapping over to me.

“Ivy? Why are you still here?”He frowns. “It’s getting late.”

“Lost track of time.”I hold up the stack of papers as proof.

“You know you can do that at home.”His eyes slowly roam over me, and something unspoken crackles in the air.

“I’m almost done.”I try to sound not entirely flustered by the sight of him so casual, so real. So damn sexy.

“You shouldn’t be here this late, Ivy.”He starts moving again, this time toward me. “New York is like any big city after dark, especially for young women.”

I’ve never lived in a big city, so I have no concept of the threat. “I, um, hadn’t thought about that.”I am now, though, and I still have a train ride home.

“Didn’t you say you live in the Bronx?”

I nod as my heart thunders in my chest. But it’s not from fear of taking the train after dark. Harrison is within touching distance. If I reach out, I could run my fingers down his torso and feel those muscles beneath the cotton.

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