Forbidden Professors Boxed Set: A Forbidden Professor Student Romance Collection

by Penelope Wylde

  “Mm-hmm. Sure. Their voices. Like that’s all you like about them.” She gives me a long side eye. “Nothing to do with the bulge I see you staring at during Professor James’ classes? Too bad we don’t share Professor Riley’s class too. I bet you repeat your behavior there too.”

  I pinch my lips closed.

  “You know I’m right. What’s the worst that can happen? They tell you no? And sweetheart, let’s face it, your mom isn’t coming. We both know that. It’s the same every year. If you ask me, you’re lucky you could enroll at seventeen and get out of that house.” Rosalee’s mouth scrunches up into a pucker that said she was full of regret for saying something she knew hurt me.

  I am fortunate. Good genetics and hard work landed me on Blackthorne’s doorstep a full year early. I reach out and take her hand. “But I can hope. We haven’t had a great relationship and I’m hoping we can kind of get a do-over. Maybe this new marriage of hers will settle her down a little. Robert seems nice enough.”

  I glance at the clock and push my drink to the side. I’d been averaging four to five hours of sleep a night for the past several weeks. I had an early class before work and then more classes in the afternoon and that wasn’t including the hours of study time I needed. Spring break is just one long study period for me broken up by longer hours waitressing.

  “I’m going to say it again. I dare you. Because I love you, girl. You are all about making everyone happy, not stirring any waters, following the rules. Fuck. The. Rules. You’ll die with a dildo between your legs as an old lady if you keep living this way.”

  I snorted at the visual, but I couldn’t deny how my body burns with a hunger I cannot control and I constantly feel like I’m on edge. For the short time that we’ve been talking I can feel eyes track my every movement. It’s not an odd feeling, but I can sense the attention on every curve and dip on my body, and it causes a warm feeling to climb from my toes up my body and settle in my core.

  My skin flushes and the intimate feeling the quiet attention fills me with makes me wonder if this game of looking and not touching will ever end.

  The idea of taking my friend up on her dare sounds enticing.

  Reality is a fickle bitch though, and I clear my throat before answering my friend. “You paint such a pretty picture, Rosalee.”

  My friend dips a chip and crunches into the tasty treat. “I wish I had a mirror.”

  I pull my gaze away from my entwined fingers on the tabletop and snort softly.

  “I’m serious. You’re so damn hung up you’re going to die horny and alone. Because Lord knows I’ve tried to hook you up with plenty of men to no avail.”

  I shudder at the memories and let my gaze slip back to the corner, and it takes all my willpower not to groan and do exactly what Rosa is pushing me to do.

  “Take a risk, Em. For once do something for you. Slide into that red thong I saw you buy last month and I bet that’s already stuffed in the back of your underwear drawer forgotten. I’ll lend you a pair of my fuck-me heels that match and then the rest of that naughty one-nighter is all up to you.”

  My skin prickles with an electrical heat her words cause and my nipples strain against the silk of my bra. I fold my arms over my breasts and I briefly regret wearing the thin, off-the-shoulder dress this early in the spring.

  “And then what? Walk up his driveway, ring the bell and beg my much older history professor to use his teeth to pull off my thong, bend me over his couch and fuck me. And, oh, can his friend come to play too?” My own words make the silk between my thighs cling to my instantly drenched folds at doing exactly that.

  I ignore the feel of my hot liquid wetting my inner thighs and throw a smirk at my friend like I’m not melting where I sit.

  I have to admit, I want to hear where she imagines this going because I just might do it.

  I press my thighs together at the thought of my professors’ huge, thick cocks prying my soft entrance open with their swollen cock heads and driving into my dick virgin pussy.

  Man, if Rosalee could hear my thoughts. I laugh to myself.

  The amount of willpower it takes to hold back a moan is worthy of a medal.

  I bite my lip and shake my head at my own silliness, because really? What would two much older, much more experienced men like them want with an innocent girl like me?

  Chapter Two

  Emberly

  Rosalee points a chip at me. “That sounds about right. You sass, but we’ve all heard the tantalizing and scandalous rumors about those two.”

  It is true and I personally know them all too well. While I cram for exams and work long shifts at the local bistro, I hear whispers about how two professors like to share their women.

  But no one ever steps up to confirm.

  Rosalee wags a finger in my direction and purses her lips. “I see your mind working. You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? All you have to do is work your sexy magic and you’ll have both men falling for you for a little spring break fun.” Rosalee shimmies her shoulders and pouts her perfectly painted lips Marilyn Monroe style.

  I reach up and tap my chin with my index finger. “You think?” I half ask in a hushed tone, contemplating my options, as limited as they are at the moment.

  Me sexy? Sure, the whole younger student and older professor taboo is not lost on me, but those fanciful illusions were better reserved for all the pages of Rosalee’s romance books she likes to devour like fine chocolate and wine.

  Give me a murder mystery any day and a long bubble bath. I guess what I’m trying to say is I live in reality.

  Almost seemed laughable what people conjured up. I turn my head and raise my eyes to chance a quick glance in their direction. My chest tightens and my breath catches. My gaze locks with two men and the intensity can be felt across the entire pub as if they are standing in front of me.

  Heated.

  My body tingles and I can feel the private message in their gazes as my professors share a moment with me. I never knew such dark, piercing eyes could be so expressive.

  My pure primal, feminine side stirs and I’m certain there’s something deeper in how they look at me.

  And then it’s gone. The connection breaks and they return their eyes to their whiskey and notes.

  I sense a presence come up beside me before a hand comes down on my bare shoulder and I tear my eyes away.

  Instant irritation swells in me and I swat Thomas Cane’s hand away from my shoulder and glower up at him, scooting out of his reach.

  “Hey, Emberly. You up for a quick game of cat?”

  “Find someone else to play your pussy games, Cane,” I shoot back, not paying him any more attention than I have to. Thankfully he gets a clue and slinks back to his friends a few tables away.

  I take a quick look at my watch as I signal for the check. “Hey, isn’t your brother supposed to be here any minute?”

  “Oh, shoot yeah.” Rosalee sends me an apologetic smile and grabs my hands from across the table. In a low whisper, she asks, “Are you going to be okay?” I know she’s referring to Cane.

  I nod. “Yeah, I’m going to spend my spring break with my nose in the books. Have fun and hug your momma tight for me.”

  “Sure you don’t wanna come? You know there’s always room for you. The boys would love to see you again. Come on, the books can wait.” By boys she means her older twin brothers who made breaking hearts into an Olympic sport. And, who also enjoyed a little harmless flirting with me every chance they find. I make it a habit of not giving them many opportunities. They are nice, but they just don’t do it for me on any level.

  I shake my head and motion her on. “Stop worrying. Come on, let’s go. I’ll walk you out.”

  Outside Maine’s form of spring weather chills my skin, but I welcomed the crispness as it helps clear my clogged brain. Rosa’s brothers pull up in the dark parking lot as we exit and as Rosa slips into the back seat, my friend takes my hand before I can close her door. In a low voice, she whispers wit
h a wicked glint in her eye that tells me where her thoughts are.

  “Remember what I said. You only live once. I’ll see you soon, okay? Text me and I’ll do the same. Hopefully, you’ll have something exciting to share. Wait, do you want a ride back to the apartment? It’s dark out and I don’t think you should be out here.”

  “Nope. Now go. The walk will help clear my head of your bad influences. Besides, how many times do we walk home a week? I’ll be fine.”

  Rose sighs. “Fine, have it your way.” With a small laugh, my best friend is off with her family, leaving me to my thoughts.

  I turn in the opposite direction toward our apartment. Before I get past the pub’s parking lot, I’m brought up short when a heavy hand claps down hard on my bare shoulder again.

  This is getting old. Fast.

  “What the fuck?” Anger and surprise shoots a snarl out between my gnashed teeth as another hand wraps around my upper arm.

  Though it’s dark I angle my head back to see the disgusting snide smile of Cane pointed back at me.

  I thrash against him and try to break his hold on me but it’s no use. “Back the hell off, Thomas,” I spit and tug my arm one more time, stumbling a few steps.

  Righting myself, I put more distance between myself and the jock who smells one beer away from a full keg. “Get lost already. Don’t you know when to fold your hand and walk away?” I sound more confident than I feel. And apparently, he didn’t understand the English language. I stumble back and realize we’re getting deeper into the dark parking lot and no other soul is out here.

  The douche bag quarterback trails behind me as I do a hard left and try to make my way back to the pub. No way I’d try walking home alone now.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? We have a date.”

  He’s up against me now and has my arms in a death grip. Ironically, the same one that earned him a full football scholarship.

  Through the reflection of a car window I catch a spark of something in Thomas’ eyes. I guess being told no when you think you’re king has a way of rubbing a bloated ego the wrong way.

  He hisses out his anger, but I push toward the pub door.

  Before I can get a few steps from him, I feel a steel band claim my arms and clamp down. One hard tug and he pins me against the cold, hard metal of a nearby truck.

  “Stop being a dick tease and let me show you a good time. C’mon, baby, show a little appreciation. I could have anyone and I want you. Most girls would love to suck this. What’s wrong with you?”

  Thomas dry humps me, grabbing his bulge and squeezing. It takes several deep breaths to squash the bile that burns the back of my throat.

  Good question. What is wrong with me? Why I am not screaming bloody murder or greeting his balls with my knee yet is what he should be asking. Maybe it was my upbringing or because of my upbringing I show more patience than the situation calls for.

  That is about to change.

  I shove my free hand out trying to push past him but he only tightens his hold on my other arm.

  I narrow my eyes at Thomas and shove aside the fact that my cheeks burn as other students walk by unwilling to challenge the all-too-popular jock. I mean, how blind can they be? But no. God forbid they make him angry. “You need to grow a brain—I said no! Like a hundred damn times, get a fucking clue!” I shove at his chest but he only laughs menacingly.

  Normally I don’t take the violent route, but while he’s laughing his hold slips. I cock back and strike, palm out just like Rosa’s brother taught me back in high school.

  A cool gust of air ruffles the fringes of my dress, causing me to shudder. Or it could have been the crack of the douche’s nose breaking.

  Either way Thomas falls back, stunned, but not for long. Holding his nose, he gives a humorless laugh. “You stupid little cock-tease! Strutting around in your skimpy fuck-me dresses and skirts all the time,” he growls. “You want me to hike that hem up and drive my dick in and teach that pussy what a real man is. Come on, I like a little fight in my women. Gimme what I want.” Knuckles crack against my cheek and while caught off guard, he snakes an arm around my waist and drags me against him.

  Boys like Thomas don’t scare me. They only serve to piss me off. How many times have I had to fight off my mother’s beaus? Too many times. Something a little girl should never have to deal with but my mother was too blind or too uncaring to notice the bruises on my arms. No one ever touched me, though. I always found a way to protect myself. Tonight is no different.

  I raise a knee and land that sucker right where it does the most damage.

  If the broken nose didn’t open his ears, I know he’s hearing me now.

  “I fucking said no, perv. Now get the hell away from me.” I seethe with rage and growl out my every last word loud enough for everyone passing to draw up short.

  Good. Let them watch.

  Pain seizes his arrogant expression and contorts the little pretty boy face of his, and I feel oddly satisfied, knowing he is clutching his junk for all the wrong reasons. As he hunches over at my feet, I take a couple of heartbeats to watch the blood drain from his face.

  Across the way I notice his buddies making their way toward us.

  The heel of my flats crunches in the loose gravel as I turn to walk away, leaving Thomas trying to stand.

  I take no more than three steps before I hear it. A whoosh and a heavy thud. Beside me the truck rocks and for a second I think the big badass jock has passed out from the broken nose or pain of having his balls shoved into his stomach, but no such luck.

  No, the scene that plays out in front of me is so much better.

  Chapter Three

  Emberly

  I’m not sure what happened in the two seconds it takes me to turn back around, but the blood smeared down the truck’s door and the instant bruise on Thomas’s face is a shining clue.

  Roars and cheers erupt over the crowd and they start to chant the professor’s name. Thomas’s friends are nowhere to be seen.

  Of course.

  “You like a little fight in your women, huh? How do you like it now?” Professor Elliot is bent down next to Thomas, who is now on his knees still clutching the remains of his dick and balls but looks like he went a round with a bull and lost.

  The only response Thomas has is a girly groan.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. What the fuck do you think you are doing? She did say no. We all heard from across the parking lot. Thought your daddy taught you better. Then again money doesn’t make a man, isn’t that right, Emberly?” Elliot’s pissed off question only gets another high-pitched squeal as a reply.

  Around us the crowd is growing and I want to melt into the gravel at my feet from embarrassment when I see the gleam of phone cameras popping up to catch the whole exchange. Blood roars in my ears and my heart jackhammers.

  I’m ready to turn and leave when I catch Professor Elliot’s eye.

  Sharp, primal and lethal.

  My breath hitches and my eyes go wide.

  “Stay,” he commands in the same husked baritone I’ve listened to for three and a half solid years and gotten off with on more than one occasion. Only this time something darker in his tone has my feet planting to the ground, but I’ll be honest. He could command me to do pretty much anything and I wouldn’t think twice about following every order. The power that fills the space he occupies is overwhelming and all-consuming at once. I’m not the only one who feels it either. Other college girls my age are eyeing him with the same hunger that has my insides in knots.

  But it’s me he’s looking at. Me he’s commanding.

  “Don’t you fucking move a muscle, Emberly, or so help me God I’ll hunt you down,” he grits out and I can’t tell if he’s laid down a promise or a threat between us. Or both.

  What. The. Fuck. I nail him with a defiant look, but the signals between my feet and my brain must be jammed.

  I silently wonder if I should test him. Push the man outside his comf
ort zone and get a reaction out of him. Something. All his hot looks and stolen glances are driving me crazy. Any more of this back and forth and I’m not sure what I’ll do.

  “Emberly, I want to hear the words.”

  My name on his lips does miraculous things to my body and I shiver.

  I choke out a “Yes, sir.”

  Suddenly the worried expression on his face turns lethal and dark. Problem is, I can’t tell if this shift in moods is bad or a terribly good thing. Will he storm across the short distance between us, pluck me off my feet and whisk me away to safety?

  A good thing in my head.

  Or will he beat the crap out of Thomas right here in front of tens of students armed with cameras and YouTube channels?

  Still good for me, but Thomas might regret ever coming out this evening.

  Satisfied I’m not going anywhere, he turns a dark gaze on my face where Thomas caught me with his backhand.

  He swings his head around and buries his hands in the jock’s coat. In one smooth motion my professor hauls two hundred pounds of grade-A asshole up and thrashes him against the truck next to us. Towering over the piece of trash, he gives him another shake.

  “Come on, don’t you want to play now? I thought you liked it rough? Throwing your weight around is fun, right?”

  Something stirs within me as I look on and I can’t still my anxious hands clenched in front of me. I probably look like Sister Alice ready to break out in prayer.

  “Jesus,” I hiss, mad at myself for not being able to pull my head together. Deep down the primal spark of something new fires bolts of electricity throughout my body. I’m not sure what kind of woman this makes me, but seeing the professor’s protective side sends a rush of excitement through me and puckers my nipples into tight, throbbing knots.

  My pulse thunders in my ears as flames lick along the curves of my body.