Page 2 of Tangled with the Professor

Before she notices me gaping at her legs, I whip my gaze up, trying not to register her ripe little tits beneath the prim and proper white blouse.

“I’m so excited for this opportunity,” she says. “Even if one of the other candidates is more qualified, I’m really glad to finally meet you.”

She leans across to shake my hand as if I’m a rock star and not a science professor. Her slight touch sends an unexpected and unwanted shockwave through me as she continues.

“I just can’t seem to get in one of your classes, no matter how early I sign up. But I’ve audited two of them online when I was still an undergrad and they were so insightful and helpful.”

I lean closer, letting her explain how much I expanded her horizons and put the third X over her name. Hell no. I can’t be close to this intoxicating woman for an entire school year. But I still have to do the interview or face the dean’s annoying wrath for not giving her a fair shot. There has to be something wrong with her and then I can get a new crop of candidates.

The only problem is, she knows her stuff. And seems truly passionate about my subject. Our subject.

“Why have you given up so much possible lab time to tutor freshman?” I ask, searching desperately for a reason to dismiss her. “And is that something you’re willing to give up? This is going to be a pretty busy semester, and I don’t tolerate tardiness or skipping out on your duties because you think you have more important things going on.”

She puts her chin up and sets her lush lips. “I feel like I can handle both. I had a rough time my first year and was afraid to ask for help, worried that I wouldn’t be taken seriously if I admitted I was struggling. I’ve found I have a knack for noticing kids like that and can help them see there’s nothing wrong with getting some extra tutoring. I don’t want to give it up, I believe I can meet your standards doing both.”

“And when you can’t?” I ask.

She raises an auburn brow, absolutely noticing I didn’t say “if.” “If you feel I’m not exceeding your expectations, I’d rearrange my schedule to better serve you.”

But she wouldn’t give up her tutoring. It’s not common for a grad student who needs a job to be willing to show some backbone. What the hell is happening here? Is the front of my pants getting tighter as she continues to stare me down from across my desk? And why am I leaning even closer, as if I want to reach over and start plucking open those buttons on her blouse? I don’t need to be thinking about those lush curves her businesslike clothes can’t hide. And I don’t need to be so enamored by her… brain?

Because she’s perfect for the TA position. Her passion is evident, and her interest in going into research is helpful for the class’s lab section. It’s clear I’d barely have to train her, though the idea of keeping her close is tempting. Too tempting.

I drag my eyes off her much too pretty face to see the triple X I’ve scrawled over her name. She’s so damn attractive thatshe’s a living, breathing warning sign to my hard fought tenure and reputation.

But this program exists to benefit these students. I don’t really have much of a choice, because if I don’t accept her, someone else will. The idea of her working side by side with another professor, especially one with wandering eyes or hands makes me want to hide her away and keep her all to myself.

It’s completely unhinged and not a reaction I’m used to. No woman has ever elicited this crazed, almost primal response in me. It’s a pure, chemical reaction going on inside me and it’s making me feel alive in a way I haven’t in years. Maybe ever.

Oh, fuck. Is the tightness in my pants an actual full on fucking hard on now?

Her lips curl into a smile as I reach my hand across the desk and offer her the job. As soon as our hands touch, I have to resist the urge to pull her all the way into my lap.

“Thank you so much, Professor Tennyson,” she says. “I promise not to let you down.”

“We’ll see,” I reply, dropping her hand before I drag her closer and kiss that lush mouth of hers.

As I watch her swaying hips while she leaves my office, I vow not to be too much of a hardass that I scare her off, or too little of one where I put either of us in a compromising position. It’s shocking, considering that less than an hour ago I didn’t want a TA at all, and now I want to keep her around so much that I don’t want to risk anything that might make me lose her.

Chapter 2

Isabelle

My mind is on the last student who left my office as I tidy up my desk to go home. It’s a tiny little nook, barely an office with just my desk and two chairs. No window and the only thing on the wall is an ancient poster showing the emergency exit routes in case of a fire.

Still, I love it. It’s always been a dream to get this TA position, and more so when the exacting Dr. Tennyson chose me. I had struggled so long to get into one of his classes when I was an undergrad, but despite his reputation as being a major hardass, they always filled up too fast. The reputation is warranted, but the reason people line up to get in is because he makes sure you leave knowing the subject. He demands the best from everyone and doesn’t tolerate slackers.

Which is why I’m panicking a little. He just poked his head in my doorway and asked me to stop by his office before I leave.

“Sure thing, Professor. Give me a few minutes.” Outwardly, I’m cool as a cucumber but inside, I’m screaming.

I haven’t been slacking, have I?

There’s a hint of a smile on his tanned, rugged face, making him look more like he should be teaching survival classes instead of biochemistry. I can’t help but watch as he makes his way down the short hall to his own office, my eyesglued to his broad shoulders as I try to decipher what was going on in those deep brown eyes of his as he asked me to see him.

Yes, my eyes fall lower because not only is Dr. Tennyson brilliant and one of the top scholars in his field, he’s blazing hot. Built like someone who chops wood all day, with dark, wavy hair that seems perpetually ruffled by a breeze. The way he handles the test tubes and beakers on lab days makes my mind wander as his strong, lean fingers slide over the glass.

He kept me close for about a week when I first started, teaching me how he liked things to run. He fully admitted he wasn’t on board with being forced to have a TA and that I shouldn’t take it too personally if he got a bit controlling.

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