Page 9 of The Professor: Ep. 2
Once after each class.
Monday.
Wednesday.
Friday.
And he’d texted me each night beforehand.
I left you a present on my chair in my office. Wear it during class.That’d been his first text to me, the night after we fucked in his office.
The present had been a vibrating bullet meant for my clit. I still had it in my purse, just in case he’d wanted me to use it during Friday’s class yesterday.
But no. He’d sent me a second text Thursday night, telling me to wear a dress, boots, and nothing beneath. He wanted to see my nipples harden during his lecture. Which they had. And the bastard had pretended not to notice.
Then he’d pinned me against the back of his office door and fucked me slowly against it, forcing me to remain absolutely silent for each excruciatingly thorough thrust while he sucked on my titsthroughmy dress.
It’d been sensual.
And hot.
And had me so damn aroused just thinking about it that I had to clench my thighs.
Nikki arched a brow. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re, like… glowing and…” Her eyes widened. “Oh, you’ve been getting laid!”
Shit. “No, I haven’t.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me. You’ve totally been hooking up. With who? Johnny T?”
Johnny T?I snorted. “No.” He was so not my type.
“Then who?” she pressed.
“No one,” I lied.
Her green eyes narrowed, the accusation forming on her lips, but the sound of squealing from the doorway saved me from Nikki’s version of a verbal inquisition. “Get dressed, bitches!” Amanda yelled. “We’re going to the Boots Saloon for some line dancing!”
Ugh,I groaned to myself while Nikki added to the excited sounds coming from the hallway. At least she’d forgotten her quest to find out the truth about my recent sexcapades.
“Up, up, up!” Nikki chanted at me, taking my book from my lap and tossing it to the side. “Homework is for Sundays. Dancing is for Saturday nights.” She tapped my bare thigh. “Let’s go!”
I debated trying to fight her on it, mostly because I was sort of hoping for a midnight invitation from a certain professor, but he hadn’t replied to my last text.
Want to fulfill my requirement this weekend?was the question I’d sent to him last night.
He hadn’t replied.
I considered shooting off another message now, but I didn’t want to appear needy. We weren’t dating, just fucking. In secret. And breaking a bunch of rules in the process.
A fact that only made me shiver.
Nikki tossed my boots onto the bed, then threw open my closet to begin picking my outfit. She hadn’t even waited for my agreement. I’d avoided last night’s frat party in favor of pining over Maddox Kane’s reply. Doing the same tonight would just make me pathetic.
I didn’tpine.
I didn’t beg, either.
Not even for him.
