Page 1 of The Professor: Ep. 2

Kayla

Sometimes beingthe daughter of a dean had its perks.

Such as last-minute schedule changes.

“All right. You’re all set, Miss Mickelson.” Mrs. Hutchinson’s friendly tones matched the smile in her gentle blue eyes.

“Thank you so much,” I replied. “I really appreciate it.” I gathered my books into my arms and accepted the slip of paper from her wrinkled hand.

She gave me a little wave, sending me on my way with my heart in my throat.

This was a gamble, one that might just blow up in my face, but Professor Kane had left me no alternative. It’d been a month since he’d just vanished after giving me the best orgasms of my life, and he’d not even tried to contact me with an explanation.

Which, fine, he couldn’t exactly use our school programs to send me an email explaining why he’d bailed after promising to rock my world all night. But he could have used those programs to find my number and call me.

I still had no idea what had pulled him away during the party or why he’d never returned.

But I would find out today.

After his ten o’clock class—a class I’d just added to my schedule five minutes ago.

Which meant he would not be expecting me because that class was scheduled to begin momentarily.

I wandered up to the second floor of the College of Public Health building to the same lecture hall I’d frequented last semester for Introduction to Health Economics. Today, it would be devoted to an advanced course on the subject.

He’d commented to my father—the dean and his boss—that I had a natural knack for economics, thus providing me with ample reason for the schedule change.

But we’d both know why I’d opted to take his course.

It had nothing to do with supply and everything to do withdemand.

I stole a deep breath outside his classroom before entering, only to find it half-empty compared to my last course in here. It seemed the interest in economics waned after the mandatory intro course. Made sense. My best friend, Nikki, had no desire to continue down this course path.

“I don’t care how hot he is; I just can’t,” she’d said while deciding her schedule.

She’d have an absolute field day when she learned I was taking his class this semester. I’d never tell her the real reason why. That part of the deal I would maintain. It was the unfulfilled sexual part that I intended to discuss with him.

But he wasn’t here yet.

So I took a seat in the front row and situated my books like a good little student. The slip of paper from Mrs. Hutchinson sat on top. She’d given me instructions to hand it to him after class, which I absolutely intended to do. Along with my skirt. I’d do the whole panties thing, but I wasn’t wearing any.

I crossed my boot-clad leg over the other, not wanting to give up that secret just yet. I’d wait until the appropriate time.

A feminine laugh from the hallway preceded a male chuckle as Professor Kane stopped by the doorway with Professor Merrington. The fifty-year-old female appeared a bit smitten with the young professor, something I couldn’t fault her for. He was looking mighty fine in those khaki pants and fitted black sweater.

Knowing what lurked beneath the clothes made him all the more lickable in my mind.

He flashed her a charming grin before nodding his goodbye. Then he wandered over to the podium near the front of the room and set his shoulder bag on the table. He checked his watch before lifting his gray gaze to the lecture hall and froze for half a beat upon finding me waiting in the front row.

I merely smiled.

He cleared his throat. “Miss Mickelson, what a surprise.” So casual and reserved. It almost made me respect him that much more. “I don’t believe I saw your name on my roster.”

“I’m a last-minute addition,” I informed him with an innocent blink of my eyes. “Mrs. Hutchinson gave me a slip for you.” I proceeded to hold it up for him as if he needed the visual.

“I see,” he replied, eyeing my hand with a slight tick in his jaw. “We’ll sort it in my office after class.”

“Of course, Professor.” I added a sultry twist to the term, my mind immediately falling back to the oral lesson he’d administered in my bedroom.

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