Working Under the Professor Read online

  That thought grips me and pushes down on me until it’s crushing my soul. I have to know her name.

  I walk up two more aisles until I’m so close to her. She’s in the middle of the row and I want to kick every single person who’s between me and her out of my class. I want to kick out all four hundred and eighty-six other people until it’s just the two of us.

  Then, I’ll teach her some things.

  I’ll give her a lesson she’ll never forget.

  “What’s your name, miss?” I ask her.

  Her blue eyes widen as her back straightens as tight as a board. “Me?”

  “Yes.” God, I can barely speak. There’s a lump in my throat.

  “Um, Quinn Sullivan.”

  Her voice is like candy. It gives me goosebumps.

  I’m tingling all over as I think of something else to ask her. I just want to hear her talk. I want her sweet voice to be running through my shattered mind once again.

  “Why did you take this class, Quinn?”

  Her cheeks start to blush as everyone turns to her. I want to scream at them to look away. She’s mine alone to look at. I want every single person acutely aware of that fact, but I have to keep it together. If I want her, I have to keep my cool. For now anyway.

  “I’d like to learn how to leverage economic tools to help change the world for the better.”

  She’s so enchanting. All I can do is stare.

  I can tell from her answer that she’s not only beautiful, but she’s also smart, and capable too.

  “That’s a good answer,” I say, swallowing hard as I turn back to the class. “How can you affect major change in the world without money?”

  I’m watching her with my peripheries and the guy next to her catches my eye. I didn’t even notice him until now, but now that he’s whispering something into her ear, I’m intensely aware.

  My body tenses and my jaw clenches painfully hard as I turn back around.

  He gulps as my eyes narrow on him.

  “What did you just say to her?” I snarl.

  He looks around—eyes wide with panic—but there’s no one to help him. He’s all mine. He looked at her, he whispered to her, he touched her.

  My hands are shaking with rage.

  “Nothing, sir… I just…”

  “You just what? What’s your name?”

  “Shit,” he whispers. “Oliver Matthews.”

  He turns pale as his eyes drop down to his notebook.

  “You don’t talk to her, Oliver Matthews. Or, you’ll be out of my class.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” he says with a stutter. “I won’t talk to her in your class anymore.”

  “Not just in my class. Anywhere.”

  Quinn looks up at me with a look of confusion on her gorgeous face. I know I’m coming off like an obsessive psycho right now, but I don’t really care. I want her all to myself and I don’t need other boys sniffing around her. They all have to know that I’m the alpha and she’s my territory.

  “That’s enough class for today,” I say as I walk back down to the podium. My legs are all shaky like I just ran back to back marathons. “You’re all dismissed.”

  I turn around and hold onto the podium as the same two words repeat in my head over and over again. Quinn. Sullivan. Quinn. Sullivan.

  I have to get back to my office to look her up on social media. I need to find her in the student records. I have to know everything about her. Her age, her address, everything.

  I could get fired by going into those records, but I’m taking the risk.

  I’m already beyond taking it slowly. I’m beyond rational actions and sensible logic. I’m a possessive, obsessed prof who’s not above stalking the girl he just fell for.

  The students start standing up and filtering out of the room. My eyes are locked on Quinn as she gets up and hesitates in the aisle. She looks at the door and then turns back and hurries down toward me, cutting through all of the student traffic headed the other way.

  There’s a pain in my chest as she comes right up to me. Her innocence crushes me. It makes me ache.

  Whoever created this beauty outdid themselves.

  She steps onto the raised platform, looking nervous with her adorable cheeks blushing. I grip the podium, resisting the strong urge to pick her up, throw her over my shoulder, and ravage her in my office.

  “Professor Gosling,” she says as she tucks a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. It’s a simple action, but it nearly takes my legs out from under me. “I just wanted to talk to you about Oliver. He didn’t mean any harm. He just whispered to tell me that my answer was well said.”

  Her blue eyes are glowing from the inside like a white light behind a blue stained glass window. She looks so innocent and pure.

  I can’t help but wonder if she’s a virgin. If that sweet pussy is untouched. If I’ll be the first one, the only one, to feel how silky smooth the inside of her cunt is.

  “This… Oliver,” I grunt when I finally find my voice. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  She lets out a quick laugh and then swallows it down. “No, sir. He’s just a guy I met this week. In fact, I don’t think he’s interested in women at all.”

  The crushing tension rushes out of me and is replaced by a sudden lightness. I don’t want to know what I would have done if they were together. Just the thought of it makes me see red.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  This is so inappropriate. I know this, but I have to know the answer. I have to know if there’s someone I’m going to have to hunt down tonight.

  She looks incredibly shy as her eyes drop down to my shoes. “No,” she answers and I feel like I can breathe again.

  About six or seven students come down to join us. They’re waiting to ask me questions about the class, but I can’t focus on any of that right now. Not with her in view, or in touching distance, or with her delicious smell swirling in my head.

  I step in close and her blue eyes dart up to mine. “Come to my office,” I whisper.

  Her blue eyes get a little bigger.

  I reach out and take her hand in mine. It’s wildly inappropriate to touch a student like this, but I’m already beyond inappropriate. I taught half the class with a raging hard on. This is nothing.

  She swallows hard as she watches me with an unsure look on her face and the sight of her lips moving gets me going again. I tighten my grip on her soft delicate hand that’s barely the size of a child’s. “You’ll come?”

  There’s something here. A connection, a something… I can feel it flowing between us as our eyes lock on each other.

  She nods quickly, subtly. “Yes.”

  It pains me to let go, but I do.

  My whole body feels on edge as she turns and leaves. I never take my eyes off her as she hurries up the steps and then darts out the door.

  “Mr. Gosling,” a girl who’s standing in front of me says. “Are the class slides going to be available online or should we be taking notes?”

  I can’t…

  My heart is pounding as I grab my things and shove them into my bag.

  “I’ll answer questions next week,” I grunt as I yank my leather bag off the podium and leave.

  “But the campus bookstore said the textbook is out of stock,” another student says as I leave through the back.

  I hurry down the hall to get to my office.

  I have an appointment with an angel.

  Chapter Three

  Quinn

  I sink into my couch as a dullness fills my chest. Ever since I left Economics class, this feeling of heaviness has been weighing down on me.

  His words repeat in my head. Come to my office.

  Even just remembering Professor Gosling’s smooth dominant voice sends warm shivers rippling through me. No one has ever looked at me the way he did. And I don’t think anyone ever will again.

  I could feel the intensity brimming from his gorgeous green eyes as he grabbed my wrist like he never wanted to let me go.

  You’ll come?

  Yes.

  I sigh as I grab the remote control, trying to drown the regret with reality TV. I start flipping through the channels, but I’m not seeing anything. It’s just a blur. All I can see is Professor Gosling.

  His green eyes.

  A tattooed hand that’s just a tease for what else is hiding under those fitted clothes.

  I told him I’d go, so why didn’t I?

  I shake my head and turn the TV off. I wanted to go, but I was just scared.

  Something told me that he had more than just economics on his mind, and I didn’t trust myself to not go along with every single thing he had planned.

  Sleeping with professors is best left for senior year, not the first week of freshman year.

  Still, I can’t help but think of what would have happened if I had gone.

  With my heart pounding, I grab my laptop and open it up. I head straight to Google and type in his name.

  Professor Tristan Gosling.

  Thousands of pages pop up and I can’t devour them fast enough.

  Articles about him, papers he’s written, pictures of him all over the world with some of the planet’s major figures. He’s on the cover of Fortune Magazine. On the cover of GQ.

  I click on a TED talk he did titled, How a Blockchain Economy can Disrupt Everything, and am immediately fascinated and drawn in by his words.

  I could watch this man all day, and I practically do. I hit the refresh button three times.

  The way he commands the stage and grabs everyone’s attention with his fascinating theories and compelling arguments has me glued to the screen.

  Once the video is over, I hit refresh again, only this time, I’m not focused on his intelligence, I’m focused on his
body.

  The sleeves of his button-up shirt are rolled halfway up his forearms, giving me a better look at his sexy tattoos. I swallow hard as my eyes wander over his broad chest and down to his flat stomach. He looks like he has a rock hard body under his clothes complete with chiseled abs and a hard pelvis. My fingertips start tingling as I imagine running them over his six pack. Over the hard ridges and around the deep valleys.

  I’ve always been more attracted to brains over muscular bodies when it comes to men, but Professor Gosling has both and it’s making me wish I had met him in his office.

  When the camera closes in on his face, a bold throb pulses between my legs and echoes through my tingling body. It grows and amplifies with every second that I’m staring at his green eyes, his swaying brown hair, and his sexy lips.

  I swallow as my hand creeps down my stomach. All I can focus on is the deep throbbing of my pussy as I watch him. It needs to be touched. I can’t stop myself.

  My fingertips slide under my pants and underwear and a deep moan rips from my lips as I glide my fingers over my wet mound. I picture that it’s him touching me. His fingers sliding through my soaking wet folds, his tongue gliding over my aching clit, and his hard dick pressing into my tight little virgin hole.

  I’ve only tried to do this a couple of times before, but it was always more analytical than sexy. I had researched masturbation and then done everything I had read, but I couldn’t get myself close. I barely even got myself wet, but now, just thinking of Professor Gosling, I’m soaked. My fingers are coated with my need and desire. My thighs are sticking together every time I clench them.

  I start rubbing my clit as I close my eyes and think of his hand on my wrist, and it feels like I’m going to melt into the couch. My mouth is open and I’m moaning like a pornstar as I touch myself harder and faster. My back arches off the couch as I slide a finger inside my pussy. I’m so close.

  I don’t know what to do, but I’m just following my body’s direction and it feels incredible. I fantasize that Professor Gosling’s bright green eyes are between my legs, watching me as I get off for him, and it’s enough to unravel me.

  A cry explodes out of my mouth as my legs clamp shut on my wet hand. My head jerks back as the orgasm tears through me, twisting my body with warm shivers and a sweet burn.

  When it’s done, I’m gasping for air with my legs shaking. I can barely lift my head off the couch as I watch Professor Gosling on the screen through half-closed eyes.

  I should have gone to his office.

  I won’t make that mistake again. In fact, before the next class, I’ll go pay my new teacher a visit.

  A hard banging on the door has me jerking up and awake.

  Professor Gosling?

  It’s my first thought, even though it’s a ridiculous one. He wouldn’t be here. He doesn’t even know where I live.

  My heart starts racing as I clean myself up, close the laptop, and hurry to the door, while the knocking continues.

  I live in the worst apartment building. I’m pretty sure my neighbor on my left is a drug dealer and I know that my neighbor on my right is a total creep. He’s in his fifties and every time he sees me, he gives me the creeps with the way he stops and stares with a disturbing look on his face.

  It’s all I could afford, even with my parents helping out. It’s only four years, I tell myself. Four years of wearing shoes indoors—there’s no way I’m putting my bare feet on this disgusting carpet.

  There’s only a flimsy lock on the door, so I always push my dresser up against it when I’m home, just so I can feel safe.

  The knocking continues while I stand on my toes to see through the peephole.

  “No,” I gasp under my breath. What does he want?

  It’s my creepy neighbor.

  I hold my breath as my limbs start to shake. My heart starts racing and my stomach feels rock hard.

  After a minute or so, he actually tries to turn the door handle.

  What the fuck?!?

  When he can’t open the door, he loses interest and leaves.

  I’ve never been more homesick.

  My stomach is a nervous mess of knots as I walk back to the couch on shaky legs. He tried to get in here. What was he going to do?

  Professor Gosling pops back into my head and a warm comforting wave ripples through me. I imagine him here, keeping me safe, protecting me, and everything feels better.

  But he’s not here…

  I walk to the window and look outside at the shitty view of the shitty street.

  He could be anywhere…

  Chapter Four

  Tristan

  My hands clench around the steering wheel as I stare at Quinn’s window, hoping to spot her. I’ve been out here for almost two hours and even just a quick glance will make it worth it.

  She left me reeling this afternoon when she didn’t show up at my office. I was pacing around it like a damn maniac as I counted the seconds, each one dragging on impossibly long.

  When it was clear she wasn’t coming, I searched every inch of the university, but I came up short.

  My only option was to break into the student database and download her file. Now, I know that she’s from Minnesota, she’s nineteen years old, she got a perfect 1,600 on her SATs, and she’s a smart little cookie who qualified for about half a dozen grants and partial scholarships.

  And I know where she lives.

  I’m currently parked outside her apartment building, stalking her like an obsessive nutcase. I know it’s fucked up to be here, but I can’t help myself. Something switched inside me when I first saw her and there’s no going back. My old life is finished. My new life revolves around her.

  I have to be near her even if I can’t see her beautiful face or touch her soft skin. The need to be here is overwhelming.

  Quinn Sullivan. Quinn Sullivan. Quinn Sullivan.

  I say her name in my head over and over again like a mantra. It’s the only thing that seems to be able to soothe my turbulent mind.

  The neighbors on her left are on the balcony smoking a joint. I grit my teeth as I glare at them. I don’t like them near my girl. I don’t like this building. It’s not good enough for her. It’s not safe.

  The thought of her closing her sweet eyes and sleeping while surrounded by these creeps is getting me all tight inside. I want her at my place where I can keep my watchful eyes on her. At least then I would know she was safe.

  A movement in her apartment catches my eye and straightens my back. I lean forward and stare at her window on the second floor.

  She walks right up to the window and gazes out with a longing look on her face.

  My chest flutters as I watch her. She has an old t-shirt on that doesn’t show off her big tits like the white shirt she was wearing earlier did, but for some reason, it looks even sexier. Maybe it’s because she looks so comfortable and at ease, or maybe it’s because I’m picturing sliding my hands up under the loose material and finding out that she has no bra on, but whatever it is, it’s getting my body going.

  I let out a groan as my dick hardens once again. How many times did I jerk off in my office thinking of her? More than enough to get me fired, and it still wasn’t enough to ease some of the overwhelming need to touch her again.

  My eyes are locked on her as I pull out my big dick and start stroking it. I’m parked down the alley and happy that I sprung for the extra tinted windows when I bought this car.

  Her hair is loose on her slim shoulders and I imagine sinking my hands into it. She’s so stunning. It makes me wince.

  The angelic beauty is wearing tight gray yoga pants and my body heats up as I look down at her pussy, wondering if it’s untouched. Wondering if I’ll be the first to see it, to smell it, to taste it, to sink inside it, to breed it.

  “Fuuuccckkk,” I groan as I stroke my hard cock faster. I bet she has a cherry in there waiting for me to bust up with my big dick. I won’t stop there. I’m going to fill her little cunt with my hot cum until her fresh womb is coated, until her silky tunnel is soaked, and until my seed is dripping out of her tight virgin hole.

  My balls are so full that they’re aching and no matter how many times I cum, they just fill back up. It’s like my whole body is working together to make sure I put my baby in her.