Page 2 of Meeting Melody
See? I’m good with numbers.
“Well, that’s why I didn’t grade it,” she replies. “Read my notes. Edit it, and I’ll give you a passing grade. Even if you half-ass the final exam, you’d still pass.”
I rise.
She tips her head back and watches me step into the aisle and come down to the same row as her. She’s shorter up close—something I’ve avoided up until this moment. Actually, I don’t think we’ve ever spoken like this. I’ve kept my distance from her. But I can’t help but curse myself, because now I have a fucking perfect view of her tits. And because I’m staring, it’s clear that her chest is rising and falling faster.
Is she affected by me?
One single thought changes my plan entirely.
No, scratch that—I take the plan and burn it, starting anew.
I’m improvising. “How about we figure something else out?”
She backs away and crosses her arms under her breasts. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“So you’re saying you don’t see yourself getting on your knees and worshiping my cock?”
She chokes, her berry-colored lips dropping open with surprise. “Absolutely not.”
It’s almost too easy to twist her up in knots. The normally composed professor is red in the cheeks. Mission accomplished.
“You’re right.” I try to hide my smirk and fail. “If you’re doing me a favor, I should do you one. My face between your pretty thighs…”
She slaps me.
I should’ve seen it coming, but her palm comes out of nowhere, colliding with my cheek. The noise is worse than anything—and then her sharp gasp. She stumbles away from me, already shaking her head.
“I’m going to get fired,” she mumbles, striding in the opposite direction. Down the row, to the other aisle. “He deserved it, but I’m going to get fucking fired.”
My professor doesn’t stop to get her things. Doesn’t stop at all, except to cast a single glance behind her.
Whatever she sees in my expression seems to scare her, because she pushes out the door and rushes away before I can even open my damn mouth.
I sigh, my fingers probing my cheek. It does hurt a little, but my skin is hotter than anything else. I’ve suffered worse hits. I didn’t think she had it in her to surprise me, but here I am—moved to silence.
And then something else draws my attention.
I look down, and my dick is rock-hard again.
Great.
2
MELODY
My doorbell rings, shattering the calm bravado I’ve spent the last two hours putting into place. I hit a student. I’ve never hitanyonebefore, even though I’ve taken my fair share of bumps and bruises. So I should know how it feels—but I did it anyway.
He was just… crude. He looked at me like he wanted to devour me, and I didn’t like it.
Didn’t I?
The opposite might be worse. I mean, I spend the majority of that class trying not to look in his direction. He’s my worst student but the most fascinating.
I know why he chose my class. Some of his hockey buddies probably told him it would be easy—and it would’ve been, two or three semesters ago. After a somewhat stern talking-to by the administration, I upped my requirements to pass. But holding the people expecting an easy A accountable has been tricky.
So when I got his dismal paper… I wanted to do something about it. Help him, rather than fail him.
