Working Under the Professor Read online

  Working Under the Professor

  Olivia T. Turner

  Contents

  Copyright

  About

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

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  Copyright© 2019 by Olivia T. Turner.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including emailing, photocopying, printing, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. For permission requests, email [email protected]

  Please respect the author’s hard work and purchase a copy. Thanks!

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, businesses, companies, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Contains explicit love scenes and adult language.

  18+

  www.OliviaTTurner.com

  Edited by Karen Collins Editing

  Cover Design by Olivia T. Turner

  I’m going to teach her what happens when you tempt a dominant professor.

  I shouldn’t be looking at her like this.

  She’s my student.

  She’s nineteen-years-old.

  I’m way too old for her.

  Everything about this is inappropriate.

  The looks.

  The little touches.

  The extra attention in my office hours.

  The locked doors…

  I’m her professor and I’m supposed to remain professional.

  But this has gone way past professional.

  The obsession has taken over. I’m its slave now.

  She’s the teacher’s pet and I’m about to give her a lesson she’ll never forget.

  She’ll learn that her professor is a possessive one and this won’t be done after the semester ends.

  Because I’m never letting my pet go.

  She’s mine now.

  School is not out yet! And believe me, you’ll be wanting to stay for summer classes when you get a load of Professor Gosling. This Over-The-Top man will have you begging for detention with his obsessed and possessive ways!

  Safe, no cheating, and a sweet HEA that will have you smiling (and blushing). Enjoy!

  To Professor McMillan,

  You wanted me to work under you.

  I was more than willing.

  Unfortunately, we had different ideas of what that meant.

  Mine would have been a lot more fun…

  #JustSaying

  #YouGaveMeAnAButIWantedTheD

  Chapter One

  Quinn

  “What do you know about Professor Gosling?” Oliver asks.

  “Not much,” I say as we walk down the hall. I’m holding the straps of my heavy backpack and fidgeting nervously with them. The thick textbooks inside weigh a ton and the straps are cutting into my shoulders.

  Oliver grips my arm, his eyes wide with excitement. “Then you are in for a huge treat!”

  His excitement is contagious and I can’t help but smile. Oliver is my first gay friend over here. Actually, he’s my only friend.

  It’s my first week at Wale University and I haven’t really met anyone yet. I live off campus in a rundown little apartment, but it has a desk with a light on it and a bed that I can stack my books on, so that’s all I need.

  I was getting coffee on my first day, and Oliver kind of grabbed me and didn’t let me go. We had Financial Markets together and today we have Economics.

  “I heard he’s really tough,” I say, feeling a rush of adrenaline. I love an academic challenge. All of the teachers in high school were way too easy on us and I’m excited to sink my teeth into something a little more challenging.

  “Oh, he’s tough,” he says with a wince. “He’s also rated as the best economics professor in the country, and he made around a billion dollars in less than a decade from investing in start-ups.”

  Wow. A billion dollars. I can’t even imagine.

  I take a deep breath, wondering what it would be like to have money like that. I got every single academic scholarship and grant that I could, my parents gave me what they had managed to save, and I’m still going to be graduating with a ton of student debt.

  My parents tried hard, but they never made much. I had never even seen a fifty dollar bill until I was well into my teens and it wasn’t from my dad’s wallet or my mom’s purse.

  “But that’s not the most captivating part,” Oliver says with a sly grin on his face. “He’s absolutely gorgeous.”

  I roll my eyes as we walk. I don’t care about that. I just want to learn from him.

  “No,” he says when he sees how disinterested I am. “Wait until you see this guy. He is legendary. Hundreds of Wale’s hottest students have thrown themselves at his feet over the years trying to get a little extra teacher attention, but he’s turned down every single one of them.”

  “Really?” I ask with a laugh. This sounds like one of those stupid stories that circulate around colleges for years and is based on nothing but rumors.

  “It’s true,” he says as he grips my forearm. “Quinn, you have no idea what you’re about to walk into here. Professor Gosling is a stunner. You’ll never be the same.”

  “I think I’ll be fine,” I say as I mentally roll my eyes. I’ve always been more focused on academics than on chasing boys. That’s how I got into Wale, and that’s how I’m going to graduate at the top of my class.

  All of the boys in high school were just that—boys. Immature. Horny. Childish. Loud. Boys.

  How could I be attracted to that? I just put my head down and focused on my studies instead of wasting time with any of them. My mom begged me to go on dates, but my father understood. He called me an ‘old soul’ and always said that I was ‘wise beyond my years.’ I don’t know about any of that, I’ve always just wanted to learn.

  So, I’ve never had sex. I’ve never been to first base or second or third. In fact, I’ve never even picked up a bat.

  “I tried to warn you,” Oliver says as he lets go of my arm. “It’s all I can do.”

  “You’ve done more than enough,” I say with a laugh.

  The door is just up ahead and I notice that there are a lot more girls than boys hurrying in.

  “Hurry up,” Oliver says as he grabs my arm again and pulls me to the door. “These bitches are trying to get all of the good seats.”

  It’s true. The room is practically an auditorium and must seat at least five hundred people. Oliver pulls me down the stairs as he rushes to get us some good seats. We’re about twenty rows up on the left side of the room.

  My skin starts to tingle with excitement as I pull out my new pen and notebook. I write Economics on the top of the first page and then look around with my pulse racing. I know I’m a nerd, but I don’t care. I love school.

  Wow, there are so many girls in here.

  “Four minutes,” Oliver says as he looks at his watch. “I can’t wait to see this guy up close. Damn, I should have brought my binoculars.”

  “He can’t be that good-looking.” I’m starting to get annoyed with all of this focus on his looks. I didn’t study my ass off to get into Wale for that. I didn’t put myself in a ton of debt and move into the shittiest off-campus a
partment just so I could ogle at—holy shit!

  My mouth drops as he walks in. It literally drops.

  So does the jaws of the hundreds of girls around me. There’s complete silence in the enormous room. Only the pounding of five hundred girl’s hearts and the slap of Mr. Gosling’s leather bag as he drops it on the podium in front of the room.

  “I told you,” Oliver whispers as he stares.

  I can barely hear him over the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears. I shift in my seat (that is way too far away btw) and straighten my back.

  Suddenly, I believe all of the rumors of girls tossing themselves at his feet. I believe it because I’m thinking the same thing, even though I would definitely be one of the reject girls cast aside.

  All eyes are on him as he opens his leather bag and pulls out his notes.

  My eyes are fixated on him. I can’t look away.

  Who knew the first thing I’d be studying at Wale University was my sexy-as-hell professor?

  I start at his feet and slowly study my way up. Every inch of him is draped in style. He’s wearing brown shoes, dark jeans, and a navy blue vest under a beige sports coat. The gorgeous coat is definitely not off the rack. It looks like it was sewn by the best tailor in all of Italy with the way it graciously flows over his broad shoulders and round biceps, showing us his beautiful shape with every self-assured and confident movement that he makes.

  My eyes dart to his tattooed hand. It starts on the back of his hand and disappears under his brown watch and beige sleeve of his sports coat. I lift up my chin as my mouth waters. I want to see more of it. I wonder where the sexy ink stops. If it ever stops.

  Under his vest are a brown tie and light blue shirt that cover his wide muscular chest. My breath quickens when I picture grabbing his shirt and ripping it so hard that the buttons fly off. The girl next to me makes a little mewing sound and I wonder how many of these girls are thinking the same thing as me. I bet it’s all of them.

  “Take your seats. We’re going to get started.”

  Good god, my heart is beating so fast. My body is reacting to him in a big way. He’s like a master maestro who’s conducting my body instead of an orchestra. He has control over my breathless lungs, my racing pulse, my beating heart, my clenching stomach, the tiny hairs on my arms that are standing straight up, and of course, on the area between my legs, which is inappropriately warm and wet right now.

  But how can I not be turned on with those ravishing green eyes? Professor Gosling has dark brown hair with just a few specks of gray and the brightest green eyes I’ve ever seen. They dart around the room as everyone settles in. I can tell there’s a lot going on behind them, and that’s by far, the sexiest thing about him. He’s got a razor-sharp brain and a fiercely intelligent mind to go along with his devastating looks.

  There’s just a hint of stubble along the sharp line of his jaw and I can’t help but wonder what it looks like in the morning. I’m wondering what it feels like too when Oliver jerks me out of my daze with an elbow nudge.

  He glances down at my notebook and laughs.

  I gasp when I look down. Without realizing it, I was drawing little hearts all over the page. With my cheeks blushing, I rip out the page, crumple it up, and toss it into my backpack.

  “I told you,” he whispers in a sing-song voice. I just ignore him and put my attention back where it belongs. On Professor Gosling.

  “Welcome to Economics,” he says in a deep voice that’s as soft as leather in my ears. “My name is Tristan Gosling and I’ll be your professor this semester.”

  I find it hard to concentrate as I watch him pace around the stage with the grace of a wild tiger. He goes over the outline of the class and then asks if there are any questions.

  A girl in the front raises her hand. “Is it true that you’re sponsored by Ralph Lauren?”

  He opens his jacket and looks at the label. “This is DKNY, but if anyone knows Ralph, then please hook me up.”

  The sound of hundreds of giggling girls fills the room. I’m one of those giggling girls.

  A guy raises his hand and gets called on next. “Is it true you’re worth a billion dollars?”

  Professor Gosling sighs. “Do you want to be worth a billion dollars?”

  “At least,” the student says.

  “Good. Then you’re going to need to know everything about Economics and that’s what I’m going to teach you. Starting now. Turn to page nine in your textbooks.”

  I reach into my bag and pull out my textbook. It has Tristan Gosling written across the bottom. This book was written by him.

  He begins to teach the class and my pen is scratching across the page as I take notes as fast as I can. Other students have laptops, but I like pen and paper. There’s something about writing it by hand that makes me remember it better.

  The material is deeply fascinating and I’m on the edge of my seat as I listen to every word.

  It’s a pretty normal class, until Professor Gosling spots me.

  Then, it’s anything but normal.

  Chapter Two

  Tristan

  Everything halts when I see her.

  Time stops. My heart stops. The words coming out of my mouth stop.

  The entire class is waiting for me to continue.

  Four hundred and eighty-seven people in this room and it’s completely silent. Someone coughs and it jerks me out of my daze.

  I drop my eyes to the white tiles on the floor and take a deep breath to try and center myself. It doesn’t work. I’m spinning.

  There’s a tornado in my mind, shredding any logical thoughts, ripping my foundations to pieces. Her vision cuts through my mind, replacing what was there with intense need, overwhelming desire, uncontrollable lust.

  An image of me charging up the aisle and barreling down the row takes over my brain. I grab her and bend her young body over the chair, yank down her pants, spread her legs, and sink my raw cock in her tight little pussy. Four hundred and eighty-seven students would watch as I claim her cunt and make her mine. It feels so vivid that it makes me shiver.

  “So… uh… economics in the… excuse me… in the digital age is even more, uh…”

  Even more what? Fuck. Where the fuck was I?

  I keep my eyes down, not daring to look at her. The first glance completely rocked me. I don’t know what’s going to happen if I look up and see those gorgeous blue eyes staring back at me again.

  She stunned me. I was in the middle of my lecture, going on about how the digital age is changing world economics when I spotted her. There are lots of beautiful girls in the class, but there was something about her. Something about the way her head was tilted with her wavy brown auburn hair tumbling down as she listened that struck me. It was like a shot to the heart.

  My heart is still pounding. I’m still trying to recover.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath, but all I can see behind my eyelids is her. The way her bright blue eyes look so young and innocent is making my body stir. Her young tits that look so big and full as they push out against her white top is making my chest flutter. And that pen tapping against her lush full lips is making my dick rock hard.

  I feel it hardening in my pants. It’s pulsing and filling with blood as it hardens to the point of pain.

  There are almost five hundred sets of eyes on me and I’m getting rock hard in front of them all. Fuck. I turn and hurry back behind the podium to hide it.

  “So, the digital age is transforming economics in a…”

  I’m trying to focus on the words, but it’s so hard. I don’t even know if what I’m saying is making any sense. All I know is that my white knuckles are burning as I squeeze the thick oak podium as hard as I can.

  I want another look at her. I want more than a look.

  My restraint cracks and my eyes dart over to my right. They find her immediately and my breath catches in my throat.

  She’s even more beautiful than I remembered. I’m utterly captivated and I can’t
look away.

  The words fall out of my throat again and the whole place goes silent… again…

  This time I don’t take my eyes off her. I’m not that strong and I used up all of my self-control the first time around.

  I have to have her.

  All of her. I want it all and I want it now.

  “Sir?” a girl in the front row whispers when I haven’t spoken for way too long. “Are you okay?”

  I’m so far from being okay.

  I won’t be okay until I have her in my arms, until I have her in my bed, until I have her ripe womb drenched in my cum.

  I won’t be able to function until I have all of that.

  I know that deep in my trembling bones, in my clenched core, in my pounding heart.

  “So, with China set to peak in the next decade,” I go on as I force my eyes off her. I quickly look around the huge room, but a second or two later, my eyes are darting right back to her.

  I move away from the podium and approach the students in their seats. I don’t care that I’m hard and I don’t care if they see. I want her to see it. I want her to know how hard she’s making me right now. How much I fucking want her.

  The need to erase all distance between us is almost as strong as my need to claim her cunt. I start walking up the aisle, keeping my eyes on her as I start rambling on about Chinese economics. Hopefully, I’m making sense, but I doubt that I am.

  My brain is broken. She shattered it and now it’s going to be rebuilt with her at the center. I live for her.

  Fuck, get a grip, Tristan. You don’t even know her goddamn name.