Naughty Professor - A Standalone Teacher Romance

by Claire Adams

  Thomas grinned and spun back through the maze of desks to join Mindy by the copier. Within seconds they were both laughing about something and the look on their faces buoyed my courage.

  I turned back and caught Ford watching me through the glass walls of his office. His words, his hands, the whole passionate morning crashed over me, and for a moment, I couldn't move. Then he gestured for me to join him and my feet moved so fast I felt like I was flying.

  "Wow, you're in a rush," Ford said as I burst in his office door and skidded to a stop. "What's the good news?"

  I couldn't get the words to form or my mouth to work. Instead, I asked, "Is everything alright? That looked like a pretty heated phone exchange."

  Ford chuckled and handed me a slip of paper. On it was nothing but an astronomical sum. "Barton is trying to buy The Mirror again."

  "That's awful. Why are you smiling?" I asked.

  Ford shrugged and plucked the coffee cups from my hands. "I take it as a compliment. It's weird, but ever since I confronted him on the golf course, I feel like he respects me. These offers are a sign of respect, like he's proud of me."

  "Or he's trying to con you like Tailor did my father," I said.

  "Don't worry, I'm a cautious guy," Ford said.

  "Are you? Because I've been feeling lately like I'm too cautious and you're the one that's willing to go out on a limb." My throat dried up and so did my words.

  Ford arched a dark eyebrow at me. I had his full attention now. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

  An intern saved me by standing at the glass door and waving a stack of proofs. "Sorry to interrupt, Ford, but these need approval before we can let everything go live."

  "Oh, god, that's right. You're under deadline. I'm not the only one that's under deadline. Sorry!" I stepped out of the way.

  Ford caught me under the chin as he passed out the door. "I'll be right back. Then you have to tell me what's on your mind."

  I watched him march up and down the rows of desks. Ford knew everyone by name and he insisted they call him by his first name. The mix of familiarity and authority he gave off set his whole staff at ease. They worked hard for him. They respected him. They loved him.

  Suddenly the words welled up and I could barely contain myself. I felt like shouting it out his office door. The thought of interrupting the newspaper with a headline of my own was tempting but terrifying.

  Ford saw me shifting from foot to foot in his office door. He initialed the stack of proofs without taking his eyes off me and then dropped the papers on the intern's desk. He marched clear across the floor and swept back into his office.

  This time I was ready for the tsunami. "I love you," I said.

  He stopped in the doorway and held on to the frame for support. Then Ford looked around as if he'd been dazed with something heavy. When his eyes focused back on me, I said it again.

  "I love you, Ford."

  This time, he was at a loss for words, but there was no doubt how he took the news. Ford strode across the office and swept me up in his arms. We spun three times before he pulled me to him and in front of the entire Mirror staff, we kissed as if the world had faded away.

  The raucous cheer that met our ears was enough of a reminder.

  "The walls are glass, aren't they?" Ford asked. His face was still a mix of wonder and relief. "Everyone saw everything."

  "Isn't it great?" I asked. "We don't have to worry about who sees us or not."

  Ford brushed his lips against mine again. "Because we're just two people in love."

  "Yes," I laughed. Then I unhooked my arms from around his neck. "But you are also the person under deadline and, trust me, I know how that feels."

  Ford spun away with a hundred last-minute things to do, but he stopped at the door and circled back to me. "You came all the way to my office just to tell me you love me?"

  "Yes. I didn't say it this morning and I didn't know why."

  He stopped and his face sobered. "Why didn't you?"

  I reached up and brushed a hand over his cheek. The caress drew the scent of his aftershave to my senses and I was dizzy with happiness. "I've never been in love before," I confessed.

  Ford laughed and scooped me back into his arms. "Then I've never been in love before either, because I've never felt like this before."

  "Like what?" I asked with a challenge in my eyes.

  This time, it didn't matter that the walls were glass. When our lips met it felt like time stood still. Outside, the office worked at a frantic pace, but for just a moment longer, there was only Ford and I in the world.

  I thought of Lexi and her engagement ring, Jasmine and her new romance, and my father finally with his dream artist. The world slowly came back, but I welcomed each part of it. The people around us had seen it from the very beginning and Ford and I had just caught up. It felt good to finally know what everyone had realized long before us.

  "Please wait right here. Jackson didn't give you any homework, did he?" Ford asked.

  "Just a few new comments, but nothing I have to do this weekend." I waved the short story pages.

  Ford frowned at all the red marks. "I thought he liked it."

  I smiled. "Professor Rumsfeld gives great feedback. And my story was very well received in class."

  "So? Is it the one?" Ford asked.

  It felt like sunlight spreading across my chest. Everything felt right. "Yes, I think it's the one."

  Ford kissed me again. "I'm so proud of you, Clarity. You're going to do it, right?"

  "Yes, I'm entering the contest. There's no predicting if the judges will like it but—"

  "But if you win, you'll be on your way to getting published at the same time as you graduate from Landsman College." Ford grinned and squeezed both my hands. "That's a reason to celebrate if I ever heard one."

  "I've heard one better," I said.

  Ford pulled my hands to his lips. "Tell me again."

  "I love you, and you love me. That's the only reason I want to celebrate."

  An alarm clock sounded on the floor and all the newspaper staff members jumped up from their desk. A big monitor on the far wall flickered to life and the IT staff fluttered around getting the last minute codes in place.

  Ford looked from the newspaper floor, poised to publish, and then back to me.

  "Go on; I don't mind waiting," I said.

  "Put that in the top drawer of my desk. It locks and it will still be here when we get back."

  "Get back?" I asked.

  "Sorry, I have to go take care of this," Ford slipped onto the floor and took care of the final details before he could publish the new online edition of The Mirror.

  I took a seat at his desk and unlocked the drawer he suggested. Once my short story was inside, I sat back and took a moment to breathe. It was impossible to not want everything all at once. Then I thought about how far we'd come. From strangers at my father's party, to a student and professor, to journalists fighting against a well-funded enemy.

  "What's that look?" Ford asked when he returned.

  "Life just keeps getting better and better with you," I said.

  Ford sat on the corner of the desk and tapped the locked drawer. "Listen, Clarity, I understand if you want to spend the weekend working on your short story. It's a huge deal. When you win the contest, you'll have the chance to find an agent or a publisher."

  I shook my head. "I'm not in it for the money or the accolades," I said.

  "Those things are important," Ford said.

  I leaned back in his office chair and fixed him with a sharp look. "This coming from the man that is currently missing his own awards reception at Landsman College."

  "It's only for being a good example. They don't expect me to actually show up to receive it," Ford joked.

  I crossed my arms. "I thought we had fun the last time we were dressed up and on campus."

  He smiled at the memory of me in my formal, black dress. "Well, we could go and do that, but I really had somethi
ng else in mind."

  "Do I have to remind you again that these walls are glass?" I joked.

  Ford grinned and stood up. He held out both hands and pulled me to my feet. "Nah, I don't have to hide this from my staff because they covered for me while I went home and got everything packed."

  His intern lugged two suitcases to the office door and dropped them off with a jaunty salute.

  I looked from the suitcases to Ford in surprise. "What's this?"

  "This," Ford said, taking my arm and gathering up the suitcases in his other hand. "Is me taking you away on a road trip."

  We went out the office doors and found his car waiting at the curb.

  "A road trip?" I asked with tears of joy. "I hope it has plenty of detours."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Epilogue

  "It's okay to admit if you're lost," I said.

  Ford scowled and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. I'd never seen him so tense on a road trip. He pushed the accelerator down and seemed determined to beat the clouds to the horizon.

  "I'm not lost, I'm just trying to find something special," Ford said between clenched teeth.

  "Hey," I joked, "I thought I was your something special."

  Ford's jaw relaxed a little. "You're something else, that's for sure. I was just hoping to catch a good sunset before we have to get back to town. Hang on!" He pulled hard on the wheel and we skidded into the gravel parking lot of a scenic overlook.

  I laughed. "This is the same exact overlook you brought me to two years ago. Remember? We finally left on our first road trip and we stopped here to enjoy the sunset."

  Ford leaned back in the driver's seat and shrugged. "Really? I can't quite remember. That was two years and two dozen adventures ago."

  "Come on, was the book tour really that bad?" I asked.

  "Twelve cities in ten days? No." He reached over and squeezed my knee. "I loved every minute of it."

  "You're just anxious to get back to The Mirror and dive back into work," I concluded. "I get it. When you find the work you love, it's hard to be away from it."

  "I think people say that about people more often than work," Ford chuckled.

  "So, I'm ambitious. I thought you loved that about me. Besides, I'm not the one under deadline at the moment. Don't you have the first fall publication due out at the end of the week?" I asked.

  Ford shifted in his car seat and smiled softly at me. "That's right. It's almost Thanksgiving. It's almost exactly the day that I first met you."

  I grinned. "Remember what we talked about?"

  "I remember you telling me about the headline game you liked to play. How about this one: Couple Misses Stunning Sunset, Stuck in Car."

  I laughed and reached for my door handle. Ford jumped out and ran around to open the car door for me. "Here's one for you: Exhausted Editor Fills Empty Spaces with Headlines."

  Ford laughed and pulled me out to the scenic overlook. The sun was still warm as it nudged against the horizon. Still, there was chill sent to the air that meant autumn was on its way. It was my favorite season, especially when Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away.

  "Did I tell you that my father and Polly will be home from Cuba in time for Thanksgiving?" I asked.

  "I know, your father mentioned it when I talked to him the other day." Ford popped his mouth shut and admired the sunset with a sudden keen interest.

  "Oh, no, what are you and my father planning now?" I asked. "I can just imagine the headline: Men Plan Elaborate Feast, Use Every Dish in the Kitchen."

  I laughed at my own joke and turned, but Ford was gone.

  He was down on one knee. The sky streaked with reds and golds as he reached for my hand. "I have one last headline for you: Will you marry me?"

  I dropped to my knees and kissed Ford a dozen times over before I took a breath and said, "Yes. And you can quote me on that."

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  ROCK STAR BILLIONAIRE

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams

  CHAPTER ONE

  Owen

  I hadn’t felt that energized in a long time. Nothing compared to the feeling of pouring my heart and soul into a microphone with my band. And tonight, I was feeling adrenaline I hadn’t felt since the early days when we were still unknown teenagers playing dive bars and practicing in the garage. Why? Because something was about to happen that hadn’t happened in over five years. Something I had missed terribly, but hadn’t realized just how much until the very moment I was standing there with the mic in hand and the guys playing behind me.

  “I can’t believe we are actually doing this, Owen! Bleeding Heart, finally back together.” My younger brother Talon beamed at me, pushing his blond hair out of his face. He twirled one of his drumsticks with stylish flair as he sat behind his old drum set.

  “And, we actually don’t sound half bad for being so out of practice,” Jeremiah, my best friend and lead guitarist, added. “I’m just shocked we got you out of the office,” he added, looking directly at me. “You've been wearing a suit and tie for so long now, I was wondering if you even knew how to slip into those ripped-up jeans anymore.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “What can I say, man? The record company has been keeping me pretty damned busy. You know how crazy this business is, and when you get to the top, you really start to understand just how hard you have to work to stay there.”

  “Right, right,” Jeremiah piped in. “We get it, but we’ve been talking about coming out of hibernation for the last three years, and it's only happening now. I'm not trying to bitch about it, but, hell, aside from Talon, most of us have barely even seen you. Still, it's great, dude, it's really great to have you back where you belong. You might be a billionaire record mogul now, but being on stage in front of that mic is where you truly belong. It's where you've always belonged, and you know it.” Jeremiah slapped a heavy hand on my shoulder as the other guys nodded in agreement.

  It was true. I did tend to get lost in my work, but I couldn’t help it. Especially, when my record company Young Productions had still been in its infancy. My dedication had paid off, though, because I’d managed to bring the company from a small, indie label to a billion-dollar up-and-coming monster of a label that was constantly churning out hot new talent and Billboard Top 40 hits.

  Still, telling my band mates that didn’t make a difference when I had continuously promised that I’d get back behind the mic — a promise I’d made a long while ago and had taken years to fulfill. All they wanted was for me to keep my word so we could get back in the studio and on the road. I’d heard from each of them over the years, including our other guitarist Jay, and our bassist Nate, but ultimately, it had been Talon that had convinced me to make good on my promise.

  “So, we going to play the new song you sent out or what? Give it a whirl?” Talon waggled an eager eyebrow at me as he continued twirling his sticks impatiently.

  When I'd finally made the decision that we should get together, I’d sent out a new song I'd written to each of them. After being inspired by my brother’s struggle with drugs, I wrote the music and lyrics in just a couple of days, then attached it to an email and sent it out to everyone along with the note telling them it was time we got the band back together. Naturally, everyone was pumped to try the new song since they’d all been waiting on me for years.

  Talon was especially pumped. He was a good kid, and one of the best drummers in the business, but he had gotten into some bad stuff for a while there. He had a nature that was easily tempted.

 
; I nodded at Talon, smiling. “Yeah, man; let’s do it.”

  Nate started on the bass, strumming the first few measures as we all took in the beat, then Jay and Jeremiah came in on guitar before my brother hit it on the drums. I couldn't help but beam out an ear-to-ear grin. Hearing my newest creation coming to life with the guys I’d always been close to, despite the time and distance away from each other, was a sensation words truly couldn't describe.

  When I came in on the vocals, all the pieces finally came together as one and it sounded as good as it felt. Granted, it was different from our old stuff, but despite this, it still remained true to the heart of our sound. I could feel everyone’s energy merging, and the song started coming together even better than when I had imagined as I was writing it. Some people have different views on what heaven might be like, but at that moment, right there, playing with the band is what it felt like for me.

  I looked back at my brother during one of the guitar solos. He had a wild grin on his face as he slammed on the drums, his hair flipping around. He winked at me and nodded. This is some good shit right here, that look said.

  My smile widened as I went into the next verse and my energy rose. Playing was such an adrenaline rush for all of us, not just me, and it had been since we had started the band as teenagers. We'd always been in it for the thrill of the music, for the intensity of it, for our shared devotion to the beauty and power of what music could do for the soul. You could just see it in the movements and in the strumming of guitars, in the booming of the bass, in the pounding of the drums. Yes, this was it. We really were back together — maybe even for good this time.

  “Hell yeah! Owen, you need to write more new stuff. That was sick as shit!” Talon announced after the last few thumps and the final cymbal crashes on the drums.

  “Yeah, well, you make a good muse on occasion, little bro,” I winked at him.

  “Well, I can be a bit a…musing.” He flashed me a sly, cheesy grin and followed it up with a quick drum roll and a cymbal crash.