Page 8 of Hot Professor (Tainted Professors)

The way my name rolls off her tongue has my heart hammering in my chest.My hands slide a bit on the metal. I’m so fucked.

“No, he’s a senator.”I grunt with the effort of shifting the damn cabinet until it’s finally a few inches out from that wall.

“Oh, that’s cool.”Ivy suddenly inserts herself between me and the cabinet. She bends forward, intending to drop to her knees so she can grab the pages. But her backside wiggles back and forth as she’s maneuvering, and she inadvertently brushes against the front of my pants.

Jesus.

I close my eyes and swallow hard, rolling my eyes back. It takes every ounce of my being—too late. My body betrays me with an all-too-obvious twitch, and I swear silently, praying she doesn’t notice.

“Got them!”Ivy exclaims triumphantly as she backs straight into me, pauses—yup, that’s my cock—and then straightens like she just got prodded—because she did—with the stack of loose papers clutched in her hand.

“Great work, Ivy,”I manage, my voice croaking like a frog. I step back swiftly to put some much-needed distance between us. Removing my briefcase from the chair, I invite her to take a seat. Holding my bag in front of my crotch, I step around to sit at my desk putting a significant barrier between us. The relief I’d hope I’d feel is non-existent.

Ivy sits, crossing her legs demurely, but it’s her heaving chest that catches my attention. I drag my eyes up to her red cheeks. A thick, charged energy zips through the air as we stare at each other.

Maybe it’s me.

“Do you live in one of the dorms?”I ask, desperate for some semblance of normalcy to get us back on solid teacher-student footing.

“No. I have an apartment in the Bronx. I’m from a small town in Ohio. This is actually my first time in a big city,”she replies, tucking a few strands of her long hair behind her ear. “I wanted to get my own place and not feel obligated to stick around the campus when I didn’t have to. Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving it. But it’s my first time on my own, and I really want the full experience.”

“I can understand that.”

“I also love the idea of traveling and seeing the world. Maybe because I’ve never been farther than, well, here now.”

“Travel’s the best education,”I say, nodding along. “Opens your mind to new perspectives.”

“Exactly.”Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I find myself leaning closer despite the warning bell clanging in my head. “That’s why I’m here. To learn. About everything... and from everyone. I don’t have any…anyexperience… inanything.” She shifts around in the chair.

My throat goes dry. I choose to ignore the implication she tossed out and take it at face value. This gorgeous young woman seems genuinely interested in absorbing knowledge, like I did. And damn if I don’t want to be her personal encyclopedia.

“Professor... I mean, Harrison,”she starts, biting her lip in a way that demands a scolding for potentially damaging such beautiful flesh. She glances up at me through long, thick lashes, her green eyes glowing. “I really want to excel in your class. I want to be theperfectpupil and thebestTA you’ve ever had.”

Is she purposely emphasizing those words, trying to trip me up, or is she as innocent as she looks, and it’s all my imagination? The double meaning isn’t lost on me; it twists something deep inside. It’s probably just my cock hearingsomething that’s not there. She’s asking for guidance and mentorship, but I can only think about how sweet it would be to teach her things no classroom could ever cover.

“Trust me, Ivy,”I rasp, my voice barely a thread of sound as it hangs in the charged space between us. “There’s so much I could teach you.”

But as the last syllable trembles into silence, reality crashes over me like a cruel slap of ice-cold water. This is precisely what I can’t do. The memory of that blog post—the sharp sting of being the subject of campus gossip—still burns fresh in my mind.

And Dean Martens won’t let me forget it.

“Harrison?”Her voice is like a siren call, pulling me toward the rocky shore of temptation. “Did you want to discuss a schedule or tasks you’d like me to work on during the term?”

All I can picture is Ivy on her knees between mine, my jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, my fist wrapped in her soft lavender-smelling hair as she sucks me off, her tongue rimming the head of my dick with velvety licks.

I’m so fired.

“I’m sorry, Ivy.”It’s like pushing words through a mouthful of cotton. “I need to... ah… I forgot I had… something.”It’s lame, but it’s all I’ve got. “Excuse me.”

I push back from my desk and rise like I’ve been shot out of a canon. Leaving her gaping at me, her brows drawn tight in confusion, is like tearing myself away from a powerful magnet. My feet carry me out of the office before my brain fully catches up with my hasty and rude as fuck retreat. But I desperately need distance, space, anything to cool the fire she unwittingly stoked so quickly.

The men’s room is mercifully around the corner and empty. I lock myself in the end stall, smacking my forehead against the cool, scraped, and graffitied metal door for support. With my eyes squeezed shut, my hands fumble at my belt, urgencypropelling every move. I think of Ivy’s expectant eyes, the curve of her smile, the press of her ass against me, and it’s all I can do not to groan out loud as I strangle my cock in my fist.

“Fuck,”I whisper into the empty space, the word echoing slightly as I brace myself against the wall with my free hand and start to stroke with the other. It’s fast and furious, withno elegance, no emotion, literally a hard jerk off to extinguish the burning desire. Images of Ivy, sweet and innocent yet wrapped in sensuality, flash behind my eyelids, fueling the flames I’m frantically trying to extinguish.

It’s over quickly and not at all satisfying, but when it’s done, I’m left panting. Shame barrels through me as I shove myself back into my pants. At least nobody walked in on my less-than-stellar moment. My hands are shaking as I zip up and then grab some toilet paper to clean up the mess before I exit the stall. At the sink, my reflection glares back at me in the mirror as I see a man usually in control coming apart at the seams. Taking a few minutes, willing my heartbeat to slow, commanding my body to behave, I wash my hands and splash cold water on my face.

I just met this girl.

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