“I don’t mean to pressure you, Mila, but since we’re about to face the dean, I need to know if marriage is something you’d consider,” Sterling says. “Legally only to one of us.”

She glances between the two of us. The edges of her lips curve. She nips at the lower one.

Now is an incredibly inappropriate time to get an erection. So be it. I adjust my pants.

“I think I should marry you.” Mila is facing Sterling.

“What the fuck!” Why him? Why not me? No more problem with my erection.

A tsking sound draws my attention to the secretary who appears none too pleased with my exclamation. I have a much bigger problem than her judgment.

“Mila, I love you. Why…” I can’t get the rest of my question out.

Why the fuck is Mila smiling? She had to know I’d be devastated. Or did she? Have years of keeping to myself made me incapable of conveying my feelings?

She raises a finger to my lips. “Shhh. I want Professor Sterling to be my husband… and you will be my Daddy.”

“Fuck, yeah!” I jump up and fist pump.

“Sir, that’s—” The secretary is cut off as the door to the Dean’s office swings open.

We all flinch. The dean steps out, his face a mask of disapproval. I’d expected him to have his secretary send us in.

“Come in,” he says, his voice cold.

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. This is it. The moment of truth. I glance at Mila and Sterling one last time before stepping into the office. Can we pull this off?

If nothing else, Mila has finally committed to us.

The musty scent of old books and polished wood assaults my nostrils. Sterling and Mila follow close behind, our footsteps muffled by the carpet. The dean’s stern expression is locked in as he settles behind his massive desk.

My ‘Fuck, yeah!’ couldn’t have helped any.

“I’m deeply disappointed. The reputation of this institution...”

He drones on but I can’t focus. I want to bend Mila over my lap and spank her for scaring me by saying she wanted to marry Sterling. I want to take her against the floor-to-ceiling window and show the entire campus that she’s mine. I want to sit her on the edge of the mahogany desk, spread her legs, and inhale the intoxicating scent of her pussy before I kiss my way up her thigh and see how many orgasms I can give her in one sitting.

Damn. I swear I can smell her scent. If we don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to do something far worse than cuss in front of the dean.

Glancing to my side, making no effort to pretend I’m looking around the office, I study Mila. The serious expression that tries to hide her excitement over me watching her. The slope of her neck into her shoulder, where I crave kissing her. The swell of her tits that I’m eager to see grow as the pregnancy progresses. And her belly. Fuck! I can’t wait for her to have a baby bump.

Sterling leans forward and shoots me a ‘knock it off’ look.

“Is there a problem?” the dean asks.

“With all due respect…” I pull out my phone. “There is a huge problem with the university’s policy, according to my lawyer.” I read from Hendrix’s notes, shocked that the dean doesn’t interrupt.

When I lower my phone, the dean is still considering what I’ve said.

Mila adds, “I can decline the scholarship if that would help.”

The dean scoffs. “That’s a given.”

“Absolutely not,” I say firmly. It’s not that she needs the money anymore. I’ll cover all of her expenses. It’s the principle of the matter. “She was voted on by the full scholarship committee. Let her have it.”

“Whether or not I let you stay employed should be your bigger concern,” the dean booms.

“Of course,” I say, backing down to avoid making matters worse.