Page 5 of The Professor: Ep. 1

So damn hot, I thought. His woodsy aftershave only added to the allure, making me thankful for the desk between us. Otherwise, I would have been tempted to lean in and inhale his scent like a cat in heat.

Pull it together, Kay, I told myself. Only I really didn’t want to listen to the voice of reason. I wanted to strip off my clothes and lay down on his desk in blatant invitation.

Which was so not like me.

Sure, I’d messed around. But only with guys my own age. Professor Kane was ten years older than me and far more experienced. He also usually dated models, at least according to Nikki. She’d read all about him in the tabloids. I’d chosen to daydream about him in my head instead.

He tilted the monitor in my direction and nodded at the screen. “This is the backend grading system.”

“Okay.”

He clicked a link, bringing up my name. “Do you see the grade I’ve entered for your final?”

I studied the rows and found the percentage. “A minus.”

“Yes.” His light gray eyes captured and held mine. “When I click submit, I won’t be able to change it.”

My brow furrowed. “Is there a reason you would want to change it?” Did he expect me to argue for an A? I could accept a less than perfect score. Maybe he thought I expected better with my dad being his boss?

God, I hoped not.

That would be embarrassing.

“No, it’s the grade I’m giving you. I just want you to understand that upon submitting it, I can’t touch it.” His cursor moved to the submit button, clicking it while I watched. “Now it’s gray and can’t be undone. You’re officially done with my class, Miss Mickelson.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, not understanding why he felt the need to clarify this. “I wasn’t going to argue my grade.”

His lips curled. “You might change your mind about that.”

I frowned at him. “I’ve never been one to negotiate my grades, Professor Kane. Had you tried to fail me, yes, I would fight it. But an A minus is fair.”

“Excellent, not fair,” he replied, turning to close his blinds. “And that’s not what this is about.”

The room dimmed around us, the natural light replaced by his two lamps. “Then what is this about?” I asked, baffled by this entire exchange.

He finished darkening the room, then walked around the desk to stand right beside. “I wanted you to understand that your grade cannot be impacted by how you respond to what I’m about to say.”

I swallowed, uncertain of how to reply to that.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to require a response.

“I have a proposition for you, Miss Mickelson,” he said, his nearness surrounding me in a cloud of masculine warmth. “One that isn’t appropriate for a student and a professor to discuss. But as your grades are officially submitted, I can more easily ask you to clarify something for me.”

I cleared my throat, my mind humming with all sorts of questions of my own. “Clarify what?” It came out breathy, my voice barely existent.

He smiled. “Just what sort of sophistication are you seeking in the bedroom, Miss Mickelson?”

“Wh-what?” I stammered, my heart skipping a beat.

“You see, I didn’t quite catch that part of your conversation with Nicole Anderson last week,” he continued, as though I hadn’t reacted at all.

Oh, God…“You heard that?”

“I did,” he replied. “And I’ve been wondering what you meant by that for the last seven nights. I’m hoping you’ll explain it in detail. Or perhaps you could demonstrate it for me later after your father’s party?”

Maddox

Kayla’s blushdisappeared into her sweater, making me want to follow the path with my tongue. Alas, the door was still unlocked, and we had terms to discuss.

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