Curveball

by Jillian Quinn

  I pull down his zipper and free his massive erection from his boxers, giving him a few strokes. “Can you still drive like this?”

  “Let me handle the driving, and you worry about fitting my cock in your mouth.” He tips his head lower, as if indicating that I’d better get to work, with the same arrogant look on his face that made me want to take him home the first time we met.

  Licking the tip to tease him, I look up at Mark, and he makes the sexiest grunting sound as he leans his head back against the headrest. I love that he has one eye on the road and the other on me as I take him in my mouth until I can feel him in the back of my throat. With my hand still wrapped around him, I pump faster, my movements perfectly timed with one another.

  “Fuck, Teach.”

  His body trembles, making me work harder because I know he’s about to come. Once he fills my mouth, I swallow and sit back in my seat.

  A few satisfied noises later, he peeks over at me, and says, “Good girl.”

  My panties were already wet from sucking him off, and he had to say those words to me. I practically melt into the leather seat, wishing he’d pull over and give me what I’d been craving since he left my apartment.

  Chapter Six

  Olivia

  When I open the double doors to the lecture hall on Monday morning, students are crowded in the aisles, chatting among themselves, completely oblivious that I am their new professor.

  At thirty years old, I can pass as a student, no problem. They assume I am one of them, not even fazed when I tell them to take their seats. Instead, they laugh and continue their conversations, as if I didn’t even exist.

  “Welcome!” I say loud enough. I know the students can hear me because some of them turn around in their chairs while others glance in my direction but then continue to ignore me. “Excuse me. Can I have your attention?”

  I remind myself that working with Professor Swanson is not only an opportunity of a lifetime, but also a stepping-stone to an even more prestigious school than Strickland University. I’m about to walk up the aisle when I hear the door slam, and I look up, shocked to find my broad-shouldered sex god standing in front of the double doors with his two friends from the club.

  Confusion scrolls across his face for a few seconds, but then he appraises my body and licks his lips. Mark brings two fingers to his lips and blows hard, the sound of his whistle causing everyone to spin around in his direction, some slower than others. “Teach is talking to you jerks. Pay attention!” He winks at me and begins to walk toward me, staring me down like an animal stalking its prey.

  No one blinks an eye at him. Mark and the two guys standing next to him are so damn sexy, they hold the attention of every person in the room.

  And who wouldn’t want to look at them?

  I bet these guys see a lot of action from girls on campus.

  All three of them are close in height, well over six feet. The bulkier one with shaved dark hair is slightly taller and fills out a Strickland University football T-shirt that stretches across his thick arms. But the man to Mark’s left…he takes the cake.

  He runs his hand through his dark waves that are so perfect, his hair falls right back into place. His eyes are a bright blue that practically jump off his face in contrast to his flawless olive skin and toned body. Paired with a fitted white tee, the low-slung jeans that hang from his hips remind me of a male model. He and Mark are both wearing jeans and white fraternity T-shirts with green lettering.

  I never liked frat boys when I went to Strickland. The attention they would get from women always disgusted me. But I don’t recall any of them being as irresistible as these three. It’s as if they stepped out of a magazine and plopped their fine asses into my class.

  The one with wavy hair grips Mark by the biceps as he attempts to walk toward the front of the hall, stopping him in his tracks.

  Mark glances over his shoulder and whispers to his friend before following him into the row. Everyone continues to stare at the three of them, forgetting they are in my classroom and that I am their professor.

  Since he left my apartment for the second time this week, I have replayed the events in my head, now finding it hard to focus under his gaze.

  What if he tells someone about us? What if his friends remember me from the club? Fuck!

  I want to run out the door and hide my head in shame. Panic fully sets in, my thoughts a jumbled mess, because I had sex with my student and liked it. No, I fucking loved it. He gave me the best two nights of my life and left me begging for more.

  Mark leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his thick chest, and kicks up his feet on the back of the wooden chair in front of him. He flashes an evil grin in my direction, the same look he would give me every time I made eye contact with him during sex.

  I say a silent prayer in my head that he won’t reveal our secret.

  There’s no way I will make it through an entire semester with Mark shooting sexy glances my way, dampening my panties.

  Turning away from him and toward the right side of the room, I find a girl in the third row to focus on instead of his smoldering green eyes and muscles that tighten as he moves in his seat.

  If only another class were open, I would transfer in a second. But Professor Swanson would never understand my reason for wanting to teach a different class. Plus, he’d never let me switch with another professor unless it was a serious problem. Although I have a problem, the job-ending kind, it’s not one anyone would understand.

  Now that I have everyone’s attention, I slip behind the podium and shuffle through my course syllabus and the papers I prepared for the first lesson.

  “Welcome to Law and Ethics.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat first before reaching over to take a sip from my coffee cup on my desk. I drink half of it before I set it back down and face my students. “I’m Olivia Ford, and I will be your professor this semester. If you are in this class, you should have already taken the prerequisite law classes. This is a fourth-year class, so if you signed up on accident, please let me know, so we can get you moved into another class,” I say.

  I only hope he doesn’t belong here and that this is all a mistake. I will never last the semester with him licking his lips at me throughout each class.

  Chapter Seven

  Mark

  Teach, the woman I went home with this weekend, is my Law and Ethics professor.

  Fuck me. Wait, she already did that.

  The thought of Saturday road head and then the sex at her apartment makes me grin like a fool, my mouth stretched so wide that Luca taps me on the arm to get my attention.

  “You look like the fucking Joker when you smile like that. It’s creepy as shit, bro.”

  I ignore his comment and keep my eyes on Teach, whose name I now know is Olivia Ford, like my Mustang. Standing behind the podium, dressed in a tight skirt and blouse that hugs her perky tits, she moves her hand through her long blonde hair. The night we met, her hair was black and cropped short, and she shocked the hell out of me when her wig fell off because her hair had looked pretty damn real.

  Hooking up with an older chick is nothing like banging sorostitutes at the frat house. Her level of experience and the things she did with her mouth were…unforgettable. College girls are too eager and practically throw themselves at my brothers and me just because we’re in a fraternity. Teach, a woman with more years under her belt, showed her age with those moves she pulled on me.

  With one look in my direction, she makes my dick hard, as if she willed it to happen.

  “Quit it,” Luca grunts as he elbows me in the chest. “What the hell are you smiling at?”

  Uncrossing my arms from my chest, I set my legs on the floor and bend over to retrieve my bag to place it over my growing erection. “Nothing. I was just thinking about something.”

  Hunter leans over, his head peeking out from behind Luca’s left shoulder. “Bullshit. Did you get into Dirty Dan’s stash again?”

  “Nah.” M
y nose scrunches in disgust as I recall the last time I got so drunk that I smoked whatever the hell our fraternity brother had added to his mystery weed. “I’m never smoking that shit again. I was rolling for eight hours last time.”

  “You’re supposed to be getting ready for baseball season, not jerking off like last semester,” Luca interjects, typing out a message on his cell phone.

  “Thanks, Dad, but I’ve been training with the team since September, so I don’t need you crawling up my ass. I think you need to mind your own business and reattach your balls that you seem to have misplaced. Or is Izzie holding on to them for you?”

  Luca punches me in the arm, the force of his fist meeting my flesh making a sound in the quiet auditorium, but it’s not hard enough to do more than make it sting for a second.

  “Dick,” he grumbles. “They’re right fucking here.” He grabs his crotch over his jeans.

  I laugh. “That’s debatable.”

  “That’s not what your mom said last night.”

  Now, I’m the one punching him in his arm.

  “Is there a problem?”

  I look to the center of the room and spot Teach with a paper in one hand, the other on her hip. She oozes sex, and as her lips part in disapproval, the only thing I can think of is how they felt while wrapped around my cock. My size intimidates most girls. They give me those lazy licks and only take half of me in their mouths. But my new professor knows how to take one for the team. And she’s an excellent ball handler.

  “No,” I shoot back, winking. “All good, Teach.”

  “Then, what was the last thing I said?” she challenges.

  I want to bend her over her desk and fuck the sexy grin off her face. She screamed my name so many times in the few hours I spent at her apartment, and I want her to do it again and again until her mouth gets dry and her moans die off in her throat.

  “You were telling the class what kind of apples you like.” I laugh to myself, especially when I see her eyebrows rise in confusion. “Green or red?”

  “Excuse me? What kind of apples I like? That has nothing to do with ethics, Mr.…” She holds out her right hand, waiting for me to answer.

  “Montgomery,” I supply. “Mark Montgomery. But I’m sure you already figured that out.”

  “Is that so?”

  I lean forward and place my forearms on my thighs, hunched over. “I’m willing to bet it’s on the sheet in your hand. If I’m right, you have to answer my question.”

  She huffs and rolls her eyes at me. “I don’t have to do anything. You are the student, and I am your professor.”

  The way she emphasizes the words student and professor makes me realize she’s probably freaking out that I will expose what happened between us.

  Not a chance.

  “Humor me,” I retort.

  She glances down at the paper clutched between her fingers, her cheeks growing redder by the second. Then, she peeks up at me from beneath her brows, holding back a smile. “Red,” she says, resolute.

  “Hmm…” I lick my lips, and hers part in response, but she quickly recoups and closes her mouth. “Red is my favorite, too. They have the sweetest juice.”

  She coughs and loudly clears her throat. Then, she takes a sip from the coffee cup on her desk. “Like I was saying before I was interrupted…”

  Her eyes shift to the other side of the classroom, the blush from her cheeks spreading down her throat and to her neck. I love seeing her so vulnerable. It reminds me of every second she spent beneath me. I need to be inside her again, every part of her, owning every inch of her sexy body.

  After the class ends and students file out the doors, I stay behind, waiting in the back of the room, until only Teach and I are left. She damn well knows I am here, yet she sits at her desk, her eyes pointed to the book she’s scribbling on at a feverish pace. I stroll down the aisle and place my palms flat on her desk, leaning over so that our faces are only a few inches apart.

  “You can’t ignore me for the rest of the semester, Teach. Or should I call you Professor Ford?”

  She glances up at me, annoyed, with those icy-blue eyes that send chills down my spine and go straight to my balls. “I can, and I will, Mr. Montgomery. Watch me.” Her silky blonde hair covers her face as she tilts her head down and continues to write in her book.

  As I reach across her desk to touch her hand, she freezes, and her entire body tenses up. Sucking in a deep breath, she holds it for far too long before letting it out.

  “We can’t do this. I am your professor, and you are my student.”

  “We already did this,” I challenge, lowering my voice. “I know what sounds you make when you come, how hard you like to be fucked, and how good your pussy tastes.”

  She turns away from me, embarrassed, because she knows I am right.

  I continue, “This is not over. We are not done.”

  “Yes, we are.” Her tone is firm as she nods her head. “I’m sorry. I’ve worked too hard to give up my career for two nights of sex, no matter how good it was.”

  I smile, but it fades quickly once she pulls away from me. “We’re both adults. It’s not like I’m in high school, and you’re some cradle-robber. How old are you?”

  Setting her pen down in the crease of the book, she sighs and then closes her notebook. “Thirty and much too old for you now that I know how old you are.”

  I move to the side of her desk and take a seat, stretching my fingers out to touch her shoulder but she scoots her chair back.

  “That’s only an eight-year age difference. No one is going to haul you off to jail for having sex with me, Mrs. Robinson.”

  She frowns. “It’s not about the legality of the situation. If you haven’t noticed, I am your Law and Ethics teacher. Ethics is the study of good and bad behavior, right and wrong.”

  “I already showed you just how good bad could feel, baby. And I plan to show you again.” Staring down at her skirt, I lick my lips. “Spread your legs, and let me show you right now.”

  She swallows and looks away from me, closing her legs at the same time. “Ethics is also knowing what is morally acceptable. While some professors get away with dating their students, it is ethically wrong, immoral, and frowned upon by institutions for a reason. I’m sure you have no problem finding girls to hook up with.”

  Unlike the chicks on campus, spending another night with Teach will be a challenge for me. If she were any other girl, I would only have to invite her and her friends to one of our parties at Delta Sig.

  I slide off the edge of the desk and stand over her. I attempt to keep my voice low, but it ends up sounding more like a growl. “I don’t want a girl. I want a woman. And I want you.”

  “Well, you can’t always have what you want.”

  She crosses her legs, drawing my attention to her bare skin and reminding me of how her thighs felt while wrapped around me.

  “I always get what I want.” My bulky frame blocks her from view as I hear the doors behind me open, and then the room fills with chatter.

  “See you next week.” Teach grips the edge of the desk and stands before walking around the other side. “Make sure you finish your assignment before the next class. You will not receive any form of special treatment from me. Understand?”

  I nod, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Sure thing, Teach. But what about extra credit?”

  “I don’t give extra credit.”

  Without paying me another thought, she walks toward the center aisle to greet her incoming students. She pretends as though I do not exist, but that only makes me want her more.

  Teach has been dodging all my calls and texts for days. Until now, I have never had a chick blow me off, and it fucking sucks. So, I did something that shocked the shit out of me and drove to Club Rave—like a goddamn stalker.

  What am I even doing here?

  She mentioned that she works on Thursday nights, and for whatever reason, that possessed me to come here. I figured it was less creepy t
han showing up at her apartment. But even that is debatable.

  The back door of the club opens and girls shuffle out, breaking off into groups as they walk to their cars, rubbing their hands together to warm up. Among the crowd, I spot Teach, her blonde strands piled on top of her head in a high ponytail. She has a ton of makeup caked on her face even though she doesn’t need it.

  I get out of my car, and she jumps when she hears the door slam. Our eyes meet for a split second before her gaze shifts to the ground. Without acknowledging me, she walks toward her car, quickening her pace and taking longer strides to get away from me. But I close the distance between us.

  “Are you really going to ignore me?” My voice sounds loud in the quiet parking lot. “You know I only came here again, so I could see you.”

  She looks up at me, her face twisted in disgust. “You shouldn’t have wasted your time. I already told you, a relationship between us cannot happen. You have no idea how much I need the teaching job to work out for me.”

  She already has her keys in her hand and clicks the button on the remote to open the doors. I beat her to the handle and slide my backside along the car, blocking the door.

  “C’mon, Mark. I’m tired, and I need to catch a few hours of sleep before I have to be on campus again.” She grips my hips and attempts to move me, but her effort is pointless. “I’m not joking.”

  I take her hand in mine and massage her skin with my thumb before bringing it to my lips, planting kisses that spread a trail of goose bumps up her arm. “One more time. You know you want me as bad as I want you. Just give in already, Teach.”

  She shakes her hand free and places her hands on her hips. “You might be used to hearing yes all the time from sorority girls, but I am not one of them. We already went over this on Monday. I am your professor, and you are my student. This cannot happen.”