Study Hard: A Steamy Romance (Wild Quickie Book 1)

by Lucy Wild

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter One - Carrie

  Chapter Two - Jack

  STUDY HARD

  LUCY WILD

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  ALSO BY THE SAME AUTHOR

  He spanked me. I deserved it.

  It was just a crush. I had a crush on my professor. That was all.

  I knew he wouldn’t want me. Why would he?

  He’s mature, grown up, intelligent, far too professional a tutor to ever date a student.

  I still wanted him though and I thought I knew how to get him.

  But it turns out I don’t know anything. I’ve got a lot to learn.

  That’s why I’m on my knees waiting for Mr Shepherd to teach me.

  (All characters over the age of 18 - For mature adults only)

  © Copyright 2017 Lucy Wild

  All characters in this book exist only in the imagination of the author and bear no relation to anyone with the same name or names. They are not inspired by any individual and all incidents are pure invention.

  All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part. Excepting in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without the express permission of the author.

  This book is intended for mature audiences and may contain explicit language and scenes which some readers may find disturbing.

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  Chapter One

  I waited nervously on the front row. The lecture hall was empty apart from me. I’d been out of the house before my housemate was even awake, cringing as I walked across the campus, certain someone would spot me, would yell “slut,” and send me scurrying back home.

  But there was no one about yet. One of the porters was unlocking the door to the Monroe building, home of English, Spanish, and Philosophy. It was also home to Mr Shepherd’s office, the sacred space that had filled my dreams more times than I could count.

  Today was the day I was going to do it. I’d spent weeks psyching myself up, egged on by Jennifer who seemed more obsessed about me doing it than I was.

  “I’m so proud of you,” Jenny had grinned when I finally agreed. “You only live once, right?”

  You only live once. A mantra that was crumbling around me as I walked. Was this a good idea? That one life that Jenny talked about would forever be impacted by this. What if word got out? I’d forever be known as that girl who flashed her tutor, then got laughed out of university.

  Be bold, I said to myself. You don’t have to do anything. No one knows you’re not wearing any knickers.

  I was in my third year of an English degree. If I didn’t do something now, it would be too late. I’d graduate and never see Mr Shepherd again, I couldn’t begin to contemplate such a fate.

  I walked into the lecture theatre and sat on the middle of the front row, facing where he always stood, next to his desk. I looked at my phone. Jenny had messaged me.

  You snuck out early, you little minx. Tell me you’re going to do it?!?

  I didn’t reply. I didn’t know if I was going to do it. The more I thought about it, the more stupid it seemed. Yes, he’d glanced down at my legs before but that didn’t mean he wanted to fuck me. It didn’t mean anything. It was a hell of a leap from knowing he’d looked at my legs in a skirt to flashing him.

  I’d never flashed anyone. I wasn’t the type. Jenny had. Jenny had done everything. Jenny had streaked through the sixth floor of the library from one stairwell to another within a month of starting. All for a dare. My toes curled just at the thought of it.

  Sure, I had a tiny little exhibitionist streak, one that I kept strictly under wraps. There was nothing wrong with fantasising about flashing, safe in the comfort of my bed with the lights out as I read one of Jenny’s erotic stories on her Paperwhite. But the thought of actually doing it had always terrified me. I thought people would yell at me, would call me the most awful names, would shun me.

  I knew where it had come from. When I was little, I was happy to wander around naked. I couldn’t remember exactly when but I remembered vividly the time my mother told me I had to stop doing it.

  “But why?” I had asked, trying to shove away the towel that had been wrapped around me. “I like the sun on me.”

  “It’s not proper,” my mother had replied. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

  “But why?”

  “Because it’s private, that’s why. People will look at you and it’s not right.”

  A lecture had ensued, one that blurred in my mind. I remembered it beginning, I remembered crying and coming away thinking there was something shameful about exposing my body. That contradiction had remained with me ever since.

  Could I even do this? Should I do this? Why did I feel excited even through my shame?

  I sat pondering on the answers to those and myriad other questions for so long, I didn’t notice the clock ticking around to nine. The lecture began at ten past. Around me, other people began to file in, few of them taking any notice of me. I was usually on the front row, seen as a particularly diligent student by those that bothered to notice such things. A swot, I’d been called at school. I still was. Except around Mr Shepherd. When he spoke, I could barely focus on what he was saying, too busy staring at him and picturing his arm through mine as we walked down the aisle to the cheers of my friends, my parents weeping as they cried out, “We were wrong about him. He’s not too old for you. Forgive us, darling.”

  It was a pleasant daydream but it wasn’t in my mind this time. What was in my mind was that I was making a huge mistake. I couldn’t do this. I looked up at the clock. Was there time to run home and put some panties on?

  I was about to get to my feet when Mr Shepherd walked in. He looked as good as ever. Black suit that fitted him perfectly. Red tie today. Chiselled chin with just a hint of stubble. No matter what time of day I saw him, he always seemed to have that hint of stubble there. Maybe it was a tattoo.

  Above the chin was his elegant nose, those broad cheekbones and then those eyes. I swooned just at the sight of them, I could dive in and drown in those eyes. Dark blue and sparkling.

  “Good morning,” he said, his voice rich and deep. “How are we all today?”

  Petrified, I thought, watching him dump his bag on the desk. He leaned back against it and folded his arms, his eyes scanning the room. It seemed to me as if he looked at everyone apart from me. Had I done somet
hing to offend him? Did he know what I had planned? He turned away, digging his file out of his bag, giving me time to look at his back, my eyes glued to his ass, wanting to run over and yank his trousers down, take a look and see if he was as toned naked as he looked dressed. I could reach around and find his…

  “Let’s get started,” he said, turning back.

  I wondered if my cheeks were as visibly red as they felt. The room was too hot. It was always too hot when he was there. I fanned myself slightly with my notebook, keeping my legs clamped together. I couldn’t do it. I was an idiot to think I could do it. Then I did.

  Chapter Two

  She was there on the front row just as she always was. This time she’d chosen to sit directly opposite me. It was so difficult not to look at her. I couldn’t look at her. I only had to glance in her direction to start getting hard.

  It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

  I was a professional. I’d been working there for nine years. In all that time, I’d never had a crush on a single one of the students. I’d had several of them throw themselves at me but I’d remained the consummate professional. There was no way I was going to risk my career over something like that.

  The rules were simple. You did not have any kind of personal relationship with a student. It wasn’t illegal, they were all over eighteen after all, but it was professional misconduct just as if I turned up drunk as a skunk like Mr Kennedy did last year. He managed to slip away with early retirement. I doubt I could get away with that at thirty-nine. I’d be out the door and all my qualifications would be for nothing. Dole queue or supermarket shelf stacking while those I taught rose through the echelons of their careers around me.

  So I avoided even thinking about it. To look at me, you’d think nothing had changed. The year Donna started, it was all going fine, I was even being marked for potential head of department in the not too distant future. Then I met her.

  I’ll never forget the first time I saw her. It was Introduction to Study Methods, how I started all the first years off. One hour a week for six weeks before we got going on the proper stuff.

  I’d prepped it all over the summer, tweaking what I’d learned from last year, the main thing to not be too dry, get some activities on the go, persuade them to start talking to each other and to me, break the ice before the hard work began.

  I walked in, put my bag on the desk, turned around to look at them all and there she was. It was like the entire room was plunged into darkness and there was just a single spotlight shining on her. It was only for a few seconds but it felt a lot longer. The sentence I was halfway through fell out of my brain completely. All I could do was stare at her.

  She had a nervous smile on her face and she was chewing on the end of her pen. In front of her was a pristine notepad, yellow highlighter parallel to it on the left, pencil on the right. It was a perfect freeze-frame of time that I only have to close my eyes to see whenever I want.

  That smile, just a flick at the edges of those luscious red lips. Rounded cheeks and cute button nose and eyes that were fixed on me. As I looked at her, she looked away and she looked embarrassed, as if she’d been caught staring. Her hair perfectly framed her face and she was wearing a light summer dress, red and white, like something out of a fifties movie. Holy fuck, I wanted her at once.

  So I did what I had to do. I looked away. I’ve been looking away ever since, taking only the slightest glances at her when I was sure I could get away with it.

  I couldn’t help myself that first time. It was a mistake, not one I made again. When they were split into groups, talking to each other in their rows, I nonchalantly headed her way, trying to make it look as casual as I could. I was sure that once I spoke to her, the feeling would go away. She was just pretty, that was all. She’d be an idiot or up herself or something that would pour cold water on the churning feelings inside me.

  I’d never felt like that about anyone, not when seeing them for the first time. Just my luck that it was someone almost twenty years younger than me. I listened as she talked to the others and her voice made me want to grab her, drag her out of there, take her to my office and lock the door and not let her out until I was finished with her.

  Instead I made a vow, a vow I kept throughout the first and second year. I would avoid her. It was the only way. I could pretend she didn’t exist.

  Which worked fine until the third year. In the first two, I was able to get someone else to take on the tutorials with her, making one excuse after another, making sure I was never alone with her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to trust myself otherwise.

  But in the third year I ran out of excuses. We’d only been back a week when her name appeared on the schedule outside my office door.

  I was glad of my desk during those sessions, the only way to keep her from seeing how hard I got, especially when she wore those short skirts of hers. I felt more like an undergrad myself than a bloody grown up. I shouldn’t have been feeling that way.

  Then the spider came into the lecture hall. If it wasn’t for that spider, things might have gone very differently. But it did come. It walked right along the floor in front of my desk, an enormous great thing with big spindly legs. It scurried towards the front row and people began pointing.

  “All right,” I called out over the noise. “It’s only a spider, don’t panic.”

  I walked over and knelt down just as it ran towards her feet. She jolted backwards in her seat and let out a yelp of fear. As she did so, her knees separated. It was only for the briefest of seconds but it was long enough. I had my hands around the spider but I was looking up, unable to resist, being closer to her than I’d ever been before.

  She wasn’t wearing any underwear. I thought for a moment that I’d imagined it but as I carried the spider over to the window and dropped it through onto the hedge outside, I knew I was right. I replayed the last few seconds in my head.

  I’d glanced up. She’d jolted backwards, her knees separated as she scrambled to her feet. I caught the slightest glimpse of the most perfect sight I’d ever seen in my life, then she slumped back down, her knees clamped together, her face bright red with embarrassment. Did she know that I knew? There was only one way to find out.

  I was a professional. Note the past tense. Because from the moment I got that flash of her, any hint of professionalism went out of the window. I was lost.

  Chapter Three

  He came out from under the desk with the spider clasped in his cupped hands. As he walked away, I blushed furiously, hoping he hadn’t noticed my lack of underwear. When he turned back round, he carried on as if nothing had happened and I slowly began to relax.

  I still struggled to concentrate on the work, my body not letting me forget for a moment that I had no panties on. But at least I wasn’t about to be thrown off the course for indecent exposure. I could picture it, the thought making me cringe, my toes curling as I pictured standing in front of a disciplinary committee. “Donna, we are going to have to let you go from this institution. We do not allow sluts to study here.”

  Me having to pack my bags and return to my family in shame, not able to tell them what I’d done.

  I looked up. The entire room was silent. Everyone was looking at me, including Mr Shepherd. “Sorry,” I said, realising he was waiting for an answer to something. “I think I missed that.”

  “I asked if you wouldn’t mind staying behind?”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. The lecture had finished. How had that happened? There was half an hour to go last time I looked. The students around me began leaving, some of them muttering to themselves. “Doesn’t even listen.”

  “What’s the point of even being here?”

  I stood up too, walking to the end of the row, taking tiny steps, wishing my skirt was longer, feeling sure everyone could tell I wore nothing under it. I stepped down onto the floor as everyone else filed out. Mr Shepherd paid me no heed, pushing his papers back into his bag until the room was emptied.

&n
bsp; We were alone. Only when the door swung shut did he turn and face me, leaning back on the desk and folding his arms. “What’s going on, Donna?”

  He remembered my name. That was something.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I asked you three times if you’d stay behind and you didn’t even look at me. It was like you were lost in your own little world.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a second. “Are you all right, Donna? Problems at home?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “What is it then? I’ve looked at your results and you’re doing fine in every class but mine, I can’t understand why. Help me understand.”

  I wanted to tell him. I was screaming inside my head. I want to fuck you. I want you to tear my clothes off me right here and now. Every time I look at you, I melt inside and all I can think about is wrapping my lips around your cock.

  “I don’t know,” I said out loud, shifting my feet in place.

  “Your last essay was appallingly bad.”

  “It was?”

  He nodded. “Did you think it was all right? I wouldn’t expect that level of work from a first year and you’re heading towards graduation.”

  “I’m…sorry,” I said, feeling myself wilting as his voice grew louder.

  “You won’t graduate if you don’t pass my class, you do know that, don’t you?”

  “But I can get a compensation pass, can’t I? Even if I fail your one, I mean.”

  “Only if you get thirty-five to forty. Anything under that and no one can help you.”