Chapter 8: Eight

"Not so bad for a first day, right?" June asked, and I lifted my head for the first time since class started. I tried to pay attention, but damn it, every time he spoke all I could hear was that tantalizing voice saying dirty things. I probably shifted a million times just to get the pressure off my pussy.

The last thing I needed was to climax on the damn stool.

"No, not bad." I lied. Sort of. It wasn't 'bad.' Hell would be a better word for it. "Sounds like it will be an interesting class."

"Yea. So I was thinking… There's a little back to school party at my fraternity this weekend. I was wondering if you might want to join me for it? I know they probably aren't usually your thing, but I would make sure you still had fun." He nudged me with a charming smile on his face. Oh gosh, he's a frat boy.

I mean, he seems nice enough so I guess it might not be so bad.

I could even invite the girls to make it less awkward. Heaven knows I'll need to unwind after this little development.

"Oh. Yeah, uh, sure. Here, you can just text me the details." I held out my hand for his phone, and he handed me the latest model iPhone, because of course.

"Miss Matthews, could I please see you in my office after class?" Joel's voice scared the shit out of me, and June's phone almost paid the price.

But I clutched it tighter, and without turning to face him, muttered, "Sure, um, Professor Becker." As soon as his footsteps left the room, I took a deep sigh of relief.

"You okay?" June asked, placing a kind hand on my shoulder.

"Shit, yea. Sorry." I finished saving my number before handing it back.

"You're not crushing on the professor, too, are you?" He asked casually, and I bit my tongue, hoping that I didn't give anything away as I blatantly lied.

"Of course not. I'm his student."

He let out an exaggerated sigh of relief.

"Good, because it seems like half the damn class was. I've never seen so many horny college girls in my life. Well, except for parties, I guess." He didn't even know the half of it. "Well, I have Calc 3 next, so I'd better head out. I'll text you later, Jen." He said with a small bow and widespread grin. I waved after him, hoping to God this didn't bite me in the ass.

Frat party? What was I thinking?

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"Um, hi. I'm here to see Professor Becker." I mumbled nervously to the older woman sitting at the art reception desk. She rolled her eyes, peering at me from above her glasses.

"And did he call for you? He is appointment only." She huffed.

"Yes? Well, I mean, I don't have an appointment, but-"

"She's fine, Andrea." I looked up to see him poking his head from the righthand hall. "Come on back, Jennifer." I finally let my breath out, following after him. The carpeted hall was narrow, and his office was the last room on the left. It was bigger than I expected it to be, with various paintings leaned up in the corner and a large oak desk in the center. He gestured for me to sit, before shutting the door behind me with a soft thud.

"That's one hell of a reception." I grumbled, making him laugh.

"Yes. I get some unwelcome visitors sometimes."

"Let me guess, blonde tramps who want more than a standard lesson?" I snipped. He raised a brow, sinking into his office chair on the other side of the desk.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think that you're a little bit jealous, Jennifer." I scowled, trying to ignore the fire being lit in my core by him running his tongue over his lip.

"You can't talk like that. I'm your student now. Honestly, I don't know how you didn't recognize my name on your roster." He looked down to his lap, folding his hands in front of him as he leaned back.

"I never got your last name. You, however, did get mine. It would've been there when you registered." He paused, as if warring with himself over his next words. Then, his voice deepened to a low and unsure whisper. "Be honest, Jen. Did you know I was your professor?"

I was at a loss for words.

"What?" He sighed, looking like a disappointed father.

"Did you seek me out because I was your teacher?" He was making no damn sense. I didn't seek him out We met in a bar by complete chance! He was accusing me of something and I didn't like it.

"What the hell are you trying to say?" I shouted my response, standing and slapping my palms against the cool wood. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, his eyes darkening in displeasure of my outburst.

"Do not shout in my office, Miss Matthews." He growled. The fucking nerve of this guy!

"Oh. So now I'm Miss Matthews?" That's when it all sank in. No way. "Wait, did you think that I slept with you for a grade? Did you think I was trying to trick you?" He didn't respond, but the cold look in his eyes answered for me. "No fucking way. You are such an asshole! Screw this. I'm switching classes." I spat out with as much hostility as I could manage before heading for the door. But as soon as I got it open, Joel's hand pushed it back shut.

I jumped away from him, knowing that if he stood that close, I would probably slap the bastard.

"Jen-"

"Move your fucking hand, Joel." I demanded, my fists curling into a tight ball. I just knew I was bright red at this point. I don't think I had ever been so pissed in my life.

He clenched his jaw, meeting my eyes with his stormy blues, before yanking his hand away and stepping back.

"Jennifer, I'm sorry." But I wasn't listening.

I rushed back to the reception desk, clearly startling the old woman when I asked, not so kindly, "Can I change my art elective?" She blinked a few times before opening up a drawer beside her that was full of file folders. Her fingers flitted through a few colored tabs before reaching in and pulling out a yellow half-sheet of paper with the words "Drop/Add Course" written on it. Then she pointed to a stack of pink sheets on the counter.

"Take one of those. That's our current list of electives. Then, all you need to do is get your current professor to sign that yellow sheet."

Fuck.

I thanked her as kindly as I could manage through my annoyance before stomping back towards Joel's office. I entered without knocking, but he didn't look surprised to see me again. He was leaning against the front of his desk with one arm across his chest and one hand over his face. I stormed up to him, slamming the yellow page on the wood beside him.

"Sign that." His expression was no longer cold, but rather, apologetic.

"Jen, can we please just talk about this?" He begged, ignoring my demands so that he could cross to close the door.

"No, and don't bother. I'm going to be leaving as soon as you sign it." But he didn't stop, and gently shut it anyway.

"I can't just sign it. You need a reason to drop a class."

"Okay, how about, 'The Professor is a pompous asshole'? Oh, or would you prefer, 'I fucked the Professor'?" His eyes widened before narrowing in anger. It was the same expression he gave me when I found the wedding band in his pocket and it made me want to simultaneously cry and fuck him senseless. Damn it! Stop with that!

"Jennifer, enough. You're acting like a child." I scoffed, throwing my hands in the air.

"Oh, now I'm a child? You're the one who accused me of extortion! Like I'm some slut who just spreads her legs to get a good grade!"

"I already apologized for that!"

"Well I don't forgive you! I liked you. A lot. So yea, it hurts like a bitch that you would think so low of me." Shit, I was crying again. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to come back in, get the damned paper signed, and never have to see this sexy, ignorant bastard again.

"Baby…" He stepped forward with his hand extended for comfort, but I swatted it away.

"Don't. Don't call me that. Just, sign. I've already made a complete fool of myself and I want to go home." I was wiping away my tears frantically while clutching onto my bag strap with trembling hands. I couldn't look up at him. I knew that if I did, I wouldn't want to leave. I would want him to hold and comfort me.

"Okay. I'll sign if you really want me to. But, I want you to know that I really am sorry." He crossed over to the desk and picked up his ink pen, sprawling his name across the bottom of the page. Then, with a sigh, he held it out for me.

I glanced down at the page, then back at him, my chest still tight and heaving from shouting. Why did he have to be so infuriating? And why was I looking at him again? I said I wouldn't do that. I said I would keep my eyes down until I got out of his office, but I couldn't. His eyes were magnets, deep oceans of warmth that I wanted nothing more than to drown in.

He furrowed his brow, his eyes flitting down to my lips in a mix of confusion and desire. Then, as if our minds and hearts were in perfect agreement, we lunged at eachother. His fingers buried in my hair as his lips crashed against mine. It was frantic, desperate. We wanted to consume eachother, body and spirit, and nothing could stop us. He backed me up against his desk, gripping my ass and lifting me so I sat atop it.

God, this man was addicting.

He had once again rendered me careless, every bit of his warm breath on my tongue spurring me on.

I tugged hard to untuck his shirt, sliding my hands underneath so they were resting on his bare abdomen. I then circled my hands around his waist, falling to his ass so I could pull him in between my legs.

I couldn't help but let out a small moan, and he pulled away to shush me, panting heavily as his half lidded eyes met mine. Then, he stole three more kisses before breaking it again.

"You drive me crazy." He breathed, his hands and lips trailing down, his hands tracing over the swell of my breasts while his lips pressed hot kisses across my jaw and neck. "I want to fuck you and spank you. God, I want to spank that ass of yours."

Shit.

His words were creating a pool of lust and desire in my scolding core, and I longed for his threats to become reality. I bit back my moan, massaging his tight behind with my hands while he kissed my heated skin.

"How bad is this? For your job?" He groaned, still not making any effort to stop.

"Bad. You're my student." He pulled back, and I thought for a moment he might have come to his senses, but then I felt the tug of my t-shirt up my body. It was so hot, so forbidden, that I just couldn't stop. I wanted it just as badly as he did. I wanted to be naughty.