Page 8 of Yes! Professor Hendrix
“In any of those dirty novels you write, Miss Morrow, has your main character ever cum in a bus full of kids and a few parents?” he asked, eyes still locked on mine.
I shook my head slowly, unable to form a single word.
“Then you’re about to write a new fucking story. And you better call itYes, Professor Hendrix... because you’re about toobey. Right here, when my fingers slide into that pussy. You understand?”
I nodded, breath catching. My chest rose and fell so fast I thought I’d pass out. I didn’t know how I gave in so easily, but I did.
He waited.
Then asked, “what are the magic words?”
I hesitated for half a second, then whispered, “Yes, Professor Hendrix.”
And fuck.
I was dripping.
Sitting on a bus full of people, and I was soaked like I’d been begging for this all along.
Chapter Four
Nolan Hendrix
That dress… fuck! That damn floral dress clung to her like it knew what it was doing. Thin, soft, hugging every curve like it had one job—to fuck up my focus. Her ass jiggled when she walked. Her chest bounced soft with every step. No bra. I noticed that shit the moment she came running across the parking lot, all breathless and pissed off, and my dick had been hard ever since.
I sat down next to her, trying to look calm, but inside I was boiling. Her scent hit me first—some sweet, warm perfume that crawled up my throat and settled deep. Her skin was glowing, just barely damp from sweat. My hand dropped on her thigh like it belonged there.
Soft. Warm. Fucking addictive.
I started to stroke her slowly. Just light at first—my thumb brushing up, then back down again. She twitched but didn’t stop me. Not even when my fingers slid higher
“I have another question for you, Miss Morrow,” I murmured, my voice right against her ear. “When you write nasty scenes like that one you sent me… whose dick do you think about?”
She sucked in a breath. Her legs tensed. Her head turned slightly, lips parted.
“I… What are you doing to me?” she whispered. “We can’t do this here.”
“Answer the fuckin’ question.”
Her whole body trembled under my hand. Her eyes were glassy.
“I… I just imagine, I’m there. Doing it.” She breathed.
I groaned. Low and deep. My fingers slid under her panties. Hot, wet heat rushed over my skin as I found the slick line of her pussy.
“Got damn, you’re so fuckin’ wet, Miss Morrow,” I growled against her neck. “Your pussy always drip like this when you write your dirty little fantasies?”
She whimpered. “I… hmmm…”
I pressed my finger over her clit, circling slow, then slid down her slit, teasing.
“Yes?” I asked.
She choked on her breath. “Yes…Professor Hendrix.”
Fuck.
I bit down a moan and leaned in closer, lips brushing her ear.
