Page 15 of Learn Your Limits
He wears them only for a second before they’re folded up and stored in the breast pocket of his dark gray blazer. A white Oxford shirt is stretched across his chest, showing the muscles underneath as he sets his book down on the podium. I can’t see much beyond his upper half, but for that I’m thankful. My body remembers exactly what’s underneath his layers of clothing thanks to the photos he has sent me, and I really don’t need my cock to make its excitement known in a room full of people.
Well, this just became my new favorite class.
My eyes never stray from him as I sink into a seat in the center of the third row, far enough away that I’m not directly within his line of sight. Sweat is beading at the base of my spine, my heart threatening to burst free from my chest. The nerves that had been tangled in my stomach this morning have amplified to a hint of nausea.
Part of me wants to get up out of my seat and march right up to him, announcing who I am. The other part wants to remain rooted here, gazing at him and wondering how long it will take him to look in my direction. Either way, there’s no chance I’ll be leaving this lecture hall without him noticing me. He may not have seen my face, but he’s seen enough to piece together my identity.
Milo’s gaze lifts as people file in and fill the empty seats, including those on either side of me. I shift forward in my seat, arms resting across the long table in front of me as I silently urge him to look at me. I want him to make the connection. I want to watch him try to remain composed as he realizes that I am, in fact,hisstudent.
In my defense, I was under the impression that he was a science professor. While I know that sociology and psychology are both socialsciences, this isn’t the type of class I imagined him teaching. Not that I ever bothered to tell him what my major was, either. He asked if I was an art major, which I’m not, and the topic never resurfaced. Not even during the hours we spent on the phone.
I don’t know whether this is good luck or if karma has come to bite me in the ass. There’s a very real chance that, while our age difference may come with challenges, him being my professor crosses the line.
As much as I have my own reservations—none of which have anything to do with the fact that he’s fourteen years older thanme and apparently, now my professor—I want him. I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to being with a man, and I don’t know where things between us will go, but I want to find out.
His voice fills the room and quiets the chatter of students as he introduces himself and begins to go over what this class will entail for the semester. It's familiar from the hours we spent on the phone, and though he’s addressing the class, all I can think about is the way his term of endearment for me rolls off his tongue.
When his stormy gaze finally flits in my direction, my cock stirs at the sudden memory of the way his release covered his hand in the photo he sent me. The one I now have saved to my phone and may have used to jerk off to before leaving for class this morning.
I shift in my seat and tug my bottom lip between my teeth, resting my elbow on the table in front of me. Heat rises to my cheeks as I cover my mouth with my hand and fight back a smile. His eyes widen ever so slightly, nostrils flaring as he takes me in for the first time.
His voice halts mid-sentence, but he’s quick to recover without tripping over his words. He tears his gaze away from me and looks over the full lecture hall before he turns his back to the room and officially begins instruction.
An hour later when class is finally over, I’m desperate to run down the few steps separating us. I wait not-so-patiently as everyone else files out of the room, and only when it’s just Milo and I remaining do I grab my bag and stand from my seat. I take in a deep breath and dare to lift my gaze to his.
He’s standing behind his desk, hands braced against the surface, with his eyes locked on me, following my every movement as I saunter down the steps. Finally standing beforehim, I anxiously slip a hand into my pocket, leaving the other free to hold the strap of my backpack at my shoulder.
“This isn’t what I had in mind when you said you were a science professor,” I tell him, my voice coming out with more of a rasp than I intended. He removes his hands from his desk and stands up straight, slipping one hand into the pocket of his dress slacks. He’s a couple of inches shorter than me, but everything about his demeanor is commanding.
Clearing my throat, I let my gaze fall to the ground. I can’t tell if he’s angry, disappointed, or happy. He seems fairly calm on the surface, a well-crafted, put-together image. I need to know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. Does he feel betrayed that I didn’t give him my real name? I figured Cal was a safe bet, a play on my last name: Callahan.
I lift my eyes to his and note the contrast of his stormy gaze compared to the warm amber of my own. “I guess you can call me Reid now,” I say, fighting back the tremble in my voice.
Chapter fourteen
Emiliano
Out of all the possible outcomes, did the universe have to sentence me to this one?
Cal—well,Reid—is my student.
So focused on my preparations for my introductory lecture, I did not notice when he first walked into the room. And, honestly, how could I be expected to give instant recognition to someone I had never fully seen before? I was gifted with no more than teasing smiles and sinful images of him this past weekend, but with the flashes of auburn hair, light stubble, pale skin, and that fucking smile that bombarded me during my speech, I knew it was him.
I couldn’t simply stop my lecture, nor could I give him any kind of acknowledgement. There was no choice other than to continue with my teachings, steadying myself through practiced and familiar knowledge. The thoughts that plagued me remained in my mind until the moment class was dismissed and I had a second to fucking breathe.
Students waved or muttered their quick goodbyes as they walked toward the several exits of the lecture hall. They allhave other classes, peers, and first-day obligations they need to address. Thankfully, no one stayed past a few minutes.
Except forhim, of course.
Even though it’s only the two of us in the room now, I still can’t let my guard down. It’s taking all of my will to keep my composure around him. My hand fists the fabric inside my pocket with my efforts.
“Psychology is a science, Mr. Callahan. Albeit a bit different and less boring than chemistry or physics,” I reply, my voice even. I try my best to sound like I would be talking to any student and not to one who has seen my cum-covered cock. His eyes are wide when I meet his gaze, and he looks as nervous as I feel. Those pretty eyes stare back at me like he has every right to look at his professor with lust.
A quick mental scan of my enrolled students brings his full name to the forefront of my mind. Reid Callahan—only Cal online, I presume. Calling him Reid, even if he introduced himself as such, feels too powerful right now.
I’m raw.
My body is thrumming with anxious energy, and I despise it.
