One Perfect Professor

by A. J. Wynter

  WARNING: This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This e-book is for sale to adults ONLY

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  Copyright

  Copyright 2018 by AJ Wynter - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Author's Note:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third party websites or their content.

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  Contents

  Copyright

  FREE BOOK

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Also By A.J. Wynter

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  Chapter One

  I had forgotten to check what time it was when I had gotten out of bed, but it was late—or early, I should say. I made a regular habit of these walks up and down the hallways of my dorm building when I couldn’t sleep. I loved the strange, eerie peace of the halls just before dawn, when my classmates were fast asleep instead of scurrying down the halls to get to class or make their way to a frat party. It was as if my world had been put on pause, and I could finally walk it alone, with all the silence I could ever want to reflect and think.

  I supposed I could blame my lack of sleep on nerves. Tomorrow was the first day of the new semester, and I had a whole new set of classes lined up for the week. Three classes for my economics major, and modernist literature, which would fulfill my last general education requirement. I had always subsisted on organization, on scheduling, and so the possibility of any surprises tomorrow was making me strangely jittery. I took a deep breath as I turned a corner, running my new schedule through my head. I paced a bit faster as the possibility of showing up to the wrong classroom suddenly occurred to me. Shit. I stopped to take a deep breath. You got this, Sabryna.

  I tiptoed down two flights of stairs and down a hall until I arrived at the dorm room next to the window. It was Adam’s.

  I slowly turned the doorknob and snuck in...Adam always kept his door unlocked. He was sleeping peacefully in his bed, his head resting in the crook of his arm. His parents had paid extra to get him his own dorm room, and he wasn’t wasting a square inch of it. The space was abnormally clean for a college guy, and the furniture within it looked so nice that you almost forgot it was a dorm. There was a desk, a small television set, and a leather chair that I sometimes curled up in to study when my roommate, Eliza, had friends over - one of the many perks of going to the same university as your boyfriend.

  “Hey,” I whispered, gently prodding his shoulder. “It’s me.”

  Adam yawned and smiled when he saw me, and immediately scooched over to make room for me in his bed. He smiled at me and pulled me to him. “Couldn’t sleep again?”

  “Nope,” I said, sighing as I cuddled deeper into him. “I’m worried about tomorrow.”

  “You’re the last person who needs to worry,” Adam said. “You’re the top student here. You have everything planned out. You’re prepared. It’ll be fine, Sabryna, I promise.”

  “I guess,” I said, and rested my head on his chest. Even in the dimness of the light from the hallway, Adam looked handsome. He had a charming smile that made me weak and smooth brown skin, not to mention the sculpted muscles of his arms from playing football in high school. I was a lucky girl.

  “School, and everything,” Adam said, “It’s only temporary. We’re juniors. Soon we’ll be out of here, and we can get started on the real future. Our future.”

  “Yeah,” I said, and turned my face deeper into the pillow. Adam and I had talked about marriage before we had committed to colleges, to ensure we would stay together—and we had ended up at the same school anyway. In the only rush of young love I had ever known, I had agreed to commit to him.

  Everything was ready to fall into place. Adam liked to plan things out even more than I did, and he wasn’t shy about sharing his plans either. After graduation, we would get engaged and have a summer wedding, paid for by his exuberantly wealthy parents, of course, followed by a honeymoon in Italy and soon after—babies. It all sounded marvelous—except when it didn’t.

  I was the top economics student in my class. I thrived at academics, I couldn’t get enough of it. Professors, even in large classes, would stop by to tell me about how much potential they saw in me. Potential that would be put off if Adam and I stuck to our plan.

  “Adam?” I whispered, turning over. He had fallen fast asleep. Typical. I kissed him on the forehead and then tip-toed out of his bed, making my way back down the hall.

  It was five a.m. Probably too late to go back to bed now. I could shower and then head down to the dining hall when it opened in an hour.

  I creaked the door to my dorm room open and quietly grabbed my bathrobe off of the hook. My roommate, Eliza, groaned in her sleep and turned over.

  “Late night walks, again?” she complained in a groggy voice. “You drink way too much caffeine.”

  I shrugged and made my way to the bathroom I shared with my hall. I smiled at myself in the mirror. I walked the fine line between curvy and overweight, but I had always embraced it. My hair was tied back from my walk, and there were still traces of jet black wings of eyeliner against my dark cocoa skin. I needed to freshen up and look my best for the new day ahead. I had always believed in the importance of first impressions.

  Twenty minutes later, I was ready. I wore my favorite and most flattering blue jeans and my favorite mauve sweater with my hair down in waves. I finished off my look with a pearl headband and matching earrings, and then went to grab my brown cloth messenger bag, which was covered in patches and pins. It was time to head to the dining hall.

  The dining hall was at the center of campus, in a tall building surrounded by trees. At six in the morning on a Monday, most of the campus wasn’t up yet, even on the first day of the semester. Most of my classmates would probably just grab a pop-tart and go, but I felt more confident starting this very important day with a large breakfast.

  I pushed open the door and headed straight for the coffee machine. There was almost always something missing in the coffee department, whether it be cups, or sugar, or the coffee itself, but this early on a Monday, everything was in order, thank god. I grabbed a red mug and immediately poured myself a full cup of coffee. I balanced it on my tray as I walked over to the food, taking a plate and filling it with scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns.

  “Sabryna!” came a voice from behind me. I turned
around to see my best friend Cristina waving over from a table near the window, goggles still around her neck. She was always up early for swim practice, so it wasn’t unusual to run into her at the dining hall this early.

  “Hey,” I said, setting down my tray across from her. “Early practice today?”

  “Yup,” Cristina said, plunging a spoon into a bowl of granola. “Coach has been nuts lately.” I envied the ease of Cristina’s beauty sometimes. She was naturally fit and skinny from all of her swimming, and her auburn hair always looked messy yet still effortlessly gorgeous. Even in her morning swim gear, she was still outdoing me in my first day of the semester best.

  “Any good classes this semester?” I asked.

  “Just the usual,” Cristina sighed. She was a business major. “How’s Adam?”

  “He’s good,” I said. “I went to see him last night when I wasn’t sleeping well.”

  “Cute,” Cristina said. “Perks of having your high school boyfriend at college, I guess.” She stared down at her cereal. “What about your classes?”

  “Mostly upper-level econ stuff,” I said. “It’s a stressful course load.”

  “Well if anyone can do it, Sabryna, it’s you.”

  “I also have to do Modernist Lit, for my English credit.”

  “Oh yikes, that sucks,” Cristina said. “The professor for that is supposed to be ridiculously difficult. You know Terry? He failed that class twice.”

  I groaned and sunk into my chair. “Great.”

  “Eh, don’t worry about it,” Cristina said. “The professor is like...a thousand years old, so he’s had a lot of teaching assistants covering for him the past few years. You might luck out.”

  “Let’s hope,” I said, and took another sip of coffee.

  “Hello, ladies,” came a sarcastic voice behind me, and I turned to see Adam approaching our table. “Darling,” he said, and kissed me on the cheek. He had a plate balanced in his hand that consisted of mostly bacon with a decorative touch of eggs.

  “You’re up early,” I said as he sat down next to me. “Especially for you.”

  “I figured I’d take your lead and get an early start to the day,” Adam said. “And get all the bacon before it’s gone.” I rolled my eyes. We were so young, but sometimes I could swear Adam was my fifty-year-old husband.

  “Let me see your schedule,” Cristina said, grabbing a sheet of paper from his hands. They were both business majors, so they usually had a few classes in common. Adam didn’t have much in the way of serious academic interests—he had chosen business as a means to end—he wanted a stable, suburban job with a matching house, and he figured this was the easiest way to get it.

  “Two classes this semester,” Cristina said, and smiled, handing him back his schedule. I had to admit that it sometimes annoyed me to see my boyfriend and my best friend having so much in common...but it wasn’t their fault that they happened to have the same major, the same professors, and the same tests and assignments. Sometimes they would end up in conversations in my dorm room about things that completely eluded me, and I would just open up one of my books and drown them out. But I just had to deal.

  “I hope I don’t end up with a professor like Davison again,” I said. “He never showed up and he never taught us anything. He just gave us all A’s and went home to nap.”

  Adam laughed. “That’s my dream professor.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes at him. “I know, but I want to learn. I want to be able to use this stuff at work when I graduate. And we’re paying so much money to be here too. It’s unfair.”

  “Whatever,” Cristina said. “At least it boosted your GPA, right?”

  I smiled back at her politely and took another large gulp of coffee. I stared out of the window and sighed. There was still a long day ahead.

  Chapter Two

  I sat down on a bench outside of one of the brick academic buildings and sighed. Three classes down, one more to go. My first three economics classes had gone smoothly, despite all of my worrying the night before. I had read ahead in the textbook, taken notes, and had already dazzled one of the professors with my thoughts on game theory. There was only one class left to go.

  Modernist Literature. 2:00 P.M. Professor Morris. Time to get this over with. The lecture hall was one of the medium sized ones near the back of the building, room 248. I took a deep breath as I walked in. I was a decent student in nearly every subject, but literature had never been one of my specialties, and that was making me nervous already.

  I was one of the first students in the room, and took a seat in the second row—close to the front, but not so close that it would be uncomfortable. An elderly man in square horn-rimmed spectacles and a blue cardigan was sitting in an office chair at the front of the room, and he looked like he was nearly half asleep.

  I went over my notes from my last few classes as I watched more students file in, most of them taking seats near the back and already looking tired from the stress of the new semester. Even I was looking forward to crashing in Adam’s dorm room for a nap when this was all finished.

  “Good afternoon,” came a wizened, soft voice from the front of the room. “I’m Professor Morris. This is...uh, uh...” The elderly man looked down at his notes. “Introduction to Modernist Literature. Yes, yes. Two o’clock. You are all in the right place?”

  There was a silence as the man looked up over his glasses. He must have been in his early eighties, and didn’t seem quite there mentally. He would lose the train of thought of his sentences half-way through, and we could barely hear him from where he stayed seated in his chair but no one had the nerve to complain. There were a couple of professors like him floating around, ones on tenure who stayed teaching until they dropped dead, whether they were really able to or not. This one had a reputation for being a hard grader though, according to Cristina, so I had better do my best to pay attention.

  I was losing my focus as Professor Morris went over the reading list, when the door suddenly cracked open. “Sorry, sorry!” came a frantic voice. “I’m here, sorry. Mix-up at the library, long story.”

  “Ah, yes,” Professor Morris said. “When I’m not available, this young man will take over for me. This is my teaching assistant, Nate Wilson.”

  I looked up and felt heat suddenly rise to my face. Nate looked to be in his late twenties, probably a grad student, considering how stressed out he looked. He was maybe a little under six feet tall, with light brown, wavy hair and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He wore khakis and a green sweater over a button down. His pants had deep creases in them, as if he had slept in them or pulled them off of his floor. He looked like a bit of a mess, but damn, he was a pretty adorable one.

  “Hi,” Nate said with a quick wave. “I’m excited to be working with you all!” He was blushing a bit from all the attention his sudden entrance had caused, and I could hear the girls behind me whispering. A cute TA could make a boring class a lot more fun, fast.

  “Nate is a grad student working on a book that covers class dynamics in the novels of Charles Dickens,” Professor Morris explained. “It’s fascinating stuff.”

  Nate sat down to the right of me, leaving one seat empty between us. Professor Morris kept talking, more to himself than to us. Something about Mrs. Dalloway and the Battle of the Somme. Whatever it was, I was missing it. I suddenly felt myself become extremely aware of the presence of the man next to me.

  Okay yes, I have a boyfriend, but I’m only human. Nate was pretty cute, and it was hard to focus, as if he had some weird, tingly heat coming off of him. I tried my hardest not to stare, but I found myself constantly watching him from the corner of my eye...and I could have sworn I saw him peek over at me a few times.

  “The first time I read Finnegan’s Wake, I was overwhelmed too, but I think you’ll find the annotations provided in this third edition will hopefully...”

  I was so bored of listening to Professor Morris ramble on that I dared myself to peek over at Nate. He was dood
ling on the corner of a sheet of paper, a complex geometric pattern that edged its way around the printed lines of text. He caught me staring, looked up, and smiled at me cheekily.

  I gave him a polite smile back and then turned away frantically. Crap. He must think I’m so weird. He probably has students drooling over him all the time.

  The clock hanging on the wall finally reached three, and Professor Morris hobbled out of the room slowly as we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. The day was finally over, and I could go back to my dorm and relax.

  “Hey,” came a voice to my right, and I felt myself jump. “That’s an advanced econ stat textbook in your bag, isn’t it?”

  I looked up to see Nate leaning towards me from across the empty desk and nearly jumped. “Yeah,” I said, smiling as I met his hazel eyes. “I’m taking it this semester.”

  “Are you any good?”

  “What?”

  “At econ,” Nate clarified. “Is that your major?”

  “Yeah,” I said, terrified to meet his eyes...he was that attractive, and I suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. “I’m just taking this class for my English credit.”

  “Gotcha,” Nate said. “And you are?”

  “Sabryna,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m Sabryna.”

  “Pretty name,” Nate said, and looked at me intently, as if he meant to add and a pretty girl too...but stopped himself. “I might need your help later on, actually, for my book. There’s a lot of economic aspects to it, and a lot of it is beyond me.”

  “Oh, alright,” I said. I was flattered but confused. Sure, he might have been an English major, but it still felt strange that he would ask a junior economics student for help on a book that was probably beyond the level of anything I knew how to deal with.

  “Thanks,” Nate said. “I’ll see you around, then!”

  “See you,” I said shyly, and made my way out the door.