Page 30 of Hot Professor (Tainted Professors)

His gaze flicks up to mine. “Then stay,”he says, simple and direct, as if it's the easiest decision in the world.

“How? What about your job?”

“We'll figure it out,”he promises, pulling me firmly against him.

And just like that, I'm lost—lost in the scent of his cologne, the strength of his embrace, and the promise in his eyes. All my reasons for leaving evaporate as I melt into him, my arms winding around his neck. I press my cheek to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, letting it soothe the turmoil in mine.

“Okay,”I murmur against his shirt, feeling his heartbeat quicken. “Okay, I'll stay.”It's reckless and wild, but maybe it's the start of something incredible.

“Are you sure?”Harry's voice is raspy, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation. “I don't want you to leave, but I won't force you to stay for me either. If you really want to go, I'll find a way to say goodbye.”

“Yes, I'm finally sure,”I breathe out, my hands fumbling at the buttons of his shirt as I forget where we are, revealing the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips.

He groans as I trace the hard lines of his chest, pulling me closer until there's no air left that isn't filled with the heat of him. We're a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses, every touch likekindling hungrily licking up the tiniest of flames aimed to set my blood on fire.

“I love you, Harrison.”His name falls from my lips like a prayer as he lifts me onto the cool surface of the table behind me.

“Say it again,”he demands, and I do before he deepens the kiss, making me believe we really can make this work.

Chapter 14

Harrison

The cramped space is really no bigger than a broom closet, but it's never felt so much like heaven. As I lay Ivy over the small round table, the scent of her body wash, shampoo, and something that belongs to her alone, mingle to create a fragrance so potent that when it reaches my nose, it sends my senses spinning. Her hands are warm and unyielding, her breath hot against my neck as I whisper those three little words again because they simply feel so right to say aloud.

“I love you, Ivy.”

From the moment she walked into the classroom today, I knew something was off. She refused to maintain eye contact, didn't participate like normal, and she looked sad. Heartbroken. I'd thought things were going so well. We had fun on our weekend outings as I showed her the city. We talked and laughed, and I’ve learned more about her than any other woman I know.

She told me she doesn't have a favorite color; she loves dogs and is indifferent to cats. She loves to cook but doesn't do it often because she doesn't enjoy cooking for one. Even though she feels she missed out on the grade school and high school experience, she doesn't regret her parents' decision to home-school her.

We spent hours in my bed, making love. But somewhere along the way, I must have said or done something that spooked her because she's been somber and evasive this past week.

At first, I thought the upcoming break put her in the mood. Or, like the previous times she seemed to step back, I wondered if she felt overwhelmed and needed space. I watched as she fiddled with an envelope throughout class, running her fingertips over it with such reverence as though it held all her secrets. When I noticed a single tear slip down her cheek, a whisper of foreboding floated through the room and wrapped itself around me.

And I knew.

This time, she planned to say goodbye. I didn't expect her to actually leave school, leave New York.

I may have initially blurted those words out, but I meant every single one. I've been falling in love with her for weeks. It wasn't until I thought of her not being in my life that I realized the depth of my feelings. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, soaring with my confession.Elated that it wasn’t too late.

“I love you too, Harrison. So much. I never imagined I'd come to New York and fall in love.”

I lower my head, about to cover her mouth with mine and seal it with a kiss, when suddenly the door swings open, flooding the room with light and reality.

I spin around, purposely blocking Ivy from view and blinking as I see the silhouettes of students, their eyes wide as saucers, staring at us. And there, in the front of the crowd is Dean Martens, his face masked in fury.

“Professor Ashe, what's the meaning of this?”His voice drips with icy disdain. He tracks a knowing glare over my shoulder before landing back on my face, even angrier if that's possible. “My office,now.”He swivels on his heel, pushes through thegroup of curious onlookers, and leaves us without a backward glance, making it crystal clear we're to follow.

“Let's go, Ivy.”I take her hand and lead her out of the room, holding tight as we make our way through the dispersing crowd. Some of them are looking at us with glee at having front-row seats to the newest scandal, others with disappointment or disgust at the perceived teacher taking advantage of a student. But I refuse to let their unvoiced accusations impact me.

“Good for you,”I hear someone say as we hurry past.

Hesitating slightly, I turn toward the voice and see two girls I recognize from one of my classes. I quickly glance at Ivy and immediately notice her red cheeks. She drops her gaze to the floor. Is she ashamed to be seen with me? Or embarrassed about us being so publicly outed?

When we arrive at the dean's office, Fran is waiting. “You can go right in.”She glares at me like I've killed her cat, but look she gives Ivy is scathing. With my arm around Ivy’s shoulders, we pass her to enter the inner sanctum, and I close the door behind me.

My boss is sitting at his desk, and he's livid. A prominent vein runs up the side of his face to his forehead, and it's throbbing.

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