Page 11 of Forbidden Hearts

Honestly, I don’t mind being that trophy. The benefit is mutual. Not only am I getting a daily dose of orgasms, but theyhelp me keep my mind distracted. When I’m with these girls, I get to momentarily forget the fucking Romeros and what they did.

One look is all it takes to know what these college girls want. And that’s usually me. But when I looked into Alex’s eyes, I didn’t see that instant infatuation I’m used to seeing in girls her age.

She looked beyond my eyes, as if she was trying to see the real me. It reminded me of my enforcer days when reading a person’s intentions was a matter of life or death.

Why was she looking at me like that? Who is this girl?

“Um, Professor Alvarez? Your timer has been going off for a while,” the redhead next to Alex says.

“Right.” I relax out of my pose and turn off the alarm. “That’s it for today. Just write your name on the top right of your paper and hand it to me on the way out of class. I’ll look them over this afternoon.”

As the students gather their belongings, I grab my button-up shirt and slide it back on without buttoning it.

The students hand me their drawings as they exit the room.

“Professor Alvarez,” a girl says, handing me her paper. “I usually have to warm up before I draw. It helps me get in the right mood.” She shifts her hips and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I hope this drawing isn’t too bad.”

I take a quick glance at her paper. The drawing is fine, but there is a hint of flirtiness in her voice. She’s fishing for a compliment.

“It’s fine,” I say. Her eyes drop in disappointment, and she rushes out of the room without saying another word.

Another girl, a brunette, hands me her paper. “I hope you like it,” she says with a smile. “I included something at the bottom in case you have any more comments.” She points to a phone number written at the bottom of the page, then folds her arms at her chest, squeezing her breasts tightly to show she’s not wearing a bra.

“I’m sure I’ll have a few comments,” I say, giving her a smile. She is hot and exactly my type, so I make a mental note to call her later if I’m in the mood. If anything, she can keep my mind distracted for a few hours.

With a wink, she confidently strolls out of class.

The last person to hand me her paper is Alex. She still has that look from earlier. Why the fuck is she studying me?

“It’s not great,” she says, handing me her drawing. “But I’ll try to improve during the semester.”

“You’re not an art major, are you?” I tease her. Her drawing is full of hesitant lines and forms that need practice.

“I’m a business major,” she says with a shy smile. My experience tells me it’s a genuine shy smile, not a cutesy pretend one. This class is definitely outside her comfort zone, which begs the question...

“What brings you to our humble art world?” If she is studying me, I can study her all I want. Besides, she is definitely eye candy. She has a gorgeous face and a tight body. She hides it well under her clothes, but I’ve seen her type before. She’s like a Christmas present ready to be unwrapped and enjoyed.

“I just needed a break from all the business talk. And I heard your classes can be quite fun,” she says with a smile. “Especially the extra-curricular activities.”

She says the last sentence with a particular intonation I am all too familiar with. She sounds like every other college girl who has tried to get into my pants.

Yet, I don’t believe her.

She isn’t looking at me like I’m a hot piece of meat ready to be served, which is how most girls look at me. Alex is looking at me as if she is trying to figure out who I am.

Why?

She’s not here to fuck me, at least not for the same reason as all the other college girls. There is something different about her. She’s hiding something. I can sense it.

“What have you heard about these…extra-curricular activities?” I tease back. Two people can play this game.

“Just that you are very good at teaching. Given your extensive experience and all,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears exactly like that other girl did earlier. Is she just copying the other girl?

Jesus, does she not know how to flirt? Maybe Icanteach her a thing or two. She may be hiding something from me, but that’s no reason to deny her a proper education.

“Well,” I say, glancing at her drawing. I adjust my tone of voice so she knows I’m only joking. “I don’t want to sugarcoat anything, but this drawing is terrible.”

She laughs a nervous laugh and apologizes. “I tried my best.”

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