Page 18 of The Professor's Holiday Surprise

Then her eyes flick down, just a little, and I belatedly realize it wasn’t my erection that had caught her attention, but my belt buckle.

It’s one I haven’t worn to school yet this term. I’ve only worn it for a couple of my livestreams. I was going to wear it last night, but then I hung it up by my bedroom door when I changed my mind.

The big, shiny buckle caught her attention. That’s it.

And now I’m a teacher, looming beside his student, showing off his cock.

I spin around at the same moment she pushes out of her chair, going the other direction.

“I just remembered I have another—” she says at the same time as I say, “That was deeply inappropriate of me. The school has a code of conduct and you have a right to feel safe at all times.”

And then silence descends.

You could hear a pin drop in my office.

My pulse is a jackhammer in my neck.

“You didn’t— I mean, that was fine, but—” From behind me, Paisley stammers through two partial sentences, then moves to the door. Every sound is a condemnation. But then, right after she turns the handle and the hinges squeak, she adds, “If anyone is being inappropriate here, it’s me. I recognized your…belt buckle.”

Chapter 8

Paisley

I’min the stairwell when Noah catches up to me. He wrenches open the door I just went through, calling out my name. I stop halfway down the flight of stairs and turn, because it’s impossible not to look at him given the chance.

He’s wearing a light blue buttoned down shirt today, tucked into his jeans, and when I first walked into his office, I thought he looked extra neat. Like he’d ironed the shirt.

Now, though, it looks rumbled, which is even hotter.

I love the tightly controlled, careful Dr. Lowry I’ve wanted from a distance. This wild, out-of-control Noah, though…I wish I could lovethisman freely. He’s beautiful.

He sighs as he sits down on the top step, his muscular legs folding as he finds footholds for them. We’re almost eye to eye, although he’s still slightly above me because I’m a few steps below him. “What do you mean, you recognize my belt buckle?”

“Nothing.”

“Damn it, Paisley, I don’t believe you.” His chest rises and falls. “If you saw something you shouldn’t have?—”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Jesus, I’m not— I’m not trying to convince to keep quiet.” He scrubs his hands over his face, then leans his forearms onhis knees and adjusts his glasses, giving me his sternest teacher look. “Is this why you skipped class last week?”

I audibly gulp. “Maybe.”

“Paisley.” He sounds…disappointed.

I hang my head, hating that I’ve fallen in his estimation. “I’m sorry. But once I heard your voice, that was?—”

“My…” He laughs hoarsely. “You’reGood Garden Girl?”

When I don’t answer, he stands and slowly comes down a few steps. I turn to give him room, backing up against the cold concrete wall. My backpack falls to my feet.

“Of course you are,” he says softly. “Look at me.”

I can’t.

“You really are a good girl, Paisley. The best. I’m sorry that you had to see a different side of me, and hear what you heard, but?—”

I reach out and grab the front of his shirt. It’s softer than I thought it would be, and his body is so warm and hard I can feel it through the cotton. Oh my God.

---