by Gray Gardner
She smiled and her cheeks flushed a little as she looked back up at her professor. Was he trying to make her feel better by making her laugh? Hadn’t he spanked her twice this week? Wasn’t he going to now? She was certain he hated her. Why was he trying so hard?
He stiffened at the inquisitive face she was giving him right now. Good, she’d moved on from feeling sorry for herself. Now he really wanted to scold her for doing something as stupid as getting into a fight, maybe smack her smackable ass a couple of times to drive his point home.
But he couldn’t. He was too enamored with the face looking up at him at the moment.
Why was he looking at her like that? She furrowed her brow and bit her lip, afraid to look away. Oh shit, he was going to spank her. Anyone could walk by or walk in… how humiliating!
He suddenly took her face in his hand, brushing his thumb along her pink cheek, waiting for her to cower away or slap at his arm. When she didn’t, and only looked up at him with curiosity, he leaned down and gently touched his lips against hers. He watched as her eyes suddenly closed. He felt his heart speed up as she parted her lips and began to move her mouth against his. He responded with his tongue and found she was soft and sweet, somehow a contradiction to her fiery hot temper.
His muscles at his waist and below tightened as her hands reached up to his shoulders, lightly touching him, lightly sliding back and forth over his muscles, up his neck and back down to his chest.
Holy shit, was he really kissing her? She’d been so confused by his change in temper and demeanor. He acted like he couldn’t stand her. Wait, was this that playground analogy? He felt so good and smelled even better… like fresh spring and musk. She found herself touching him all over: his arms, his shoulders, his neck, his chest. God, she hated that he worked out. He was a smart, fit, arrogant professor and he messed around with his students. She couldn’t have been the first. He was too good looking. He did things to her insides.
“Are you still with me?”
She suddenly opened her eyes and found his eyes wrinkling at the edges as he whispered right above her mouth, like he was lingering in case there would be another kiss. Another kiss? Good God, this had to end now or everyone in the class would be absolutely justified when they accused her of cheating to get good grades.
“I’m sorry?” she asked in a husky voice, clearing her throat as she stepped back and hit the bookshelves. Distance.
He grinned and stood up straighter. God, he hated that she was so adorable. He hadn’t been able to help himself. Usually at his point he would have stripped the girl half naked and had his hand down her pants. She wasn’t that girl, though. She just didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would pursue anything further with her professor… and all he wanted now was her. He’d been battling an erection ever since his hand had made contact with her perfect heart shaped ass as she squirmed over the arm of her couch.
“I, uh, asked if I could walk you home.” He smiled, watching as her cheeks flushed and she began to look flustered. He was suddenly relieved that she wasn’t that kind of girl.
“Oh, no, um, I mean, no sir, I was just going to the… um, the um…”
“Library?” he asked leadingly, trying his hardest to look serious.
“Yes, the library,” she swallowed, suddenly pausing and remembering her books and Prada satchel sprayed across the sidewalk. “My books!”
She didn’t say goodbye, or apologize, or promise to behave. She just turned and ran for the door, the stairs, the entrance, and finally, the library. She had to be away from his intoxicating… whatever it was that had made her totally lose all sense and give in to a kiss. God! Why had she done that? Would she ever be able to look him in the eye again?
And why had he done that? Why was he so good at it? She rolled her eyes to herself as she realized he was too good at it… like it was almost too contrived. He’d cornered girls like that before and had gotten exactly what he wanted with those dark smoky eyes and sun-kissed brown hair, or dirty blond hair, now she couldn’t decide which it was. Well, she certainly was not going to be a notch in his bedpost. She had pride and self-respect and… damp underwear. Damn it.
Will McAndrews smiled at her as she rubbed her hands and approached the library. He had all of her things tucked neatly into her bag as he held the strap out to her.
“I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble,” he sighed, squinting in the sunlight and handing off her satchel.
“Oh, no, we were just warned about school policy,” she muttered, placing the strap over her shoulder and looking around as her cheeks felt a little warm. He had no idea what kind of trouble she was in.
“Well, look, uh, if anyone tries to give you any grief about nailing that entitled bastard with the football, I can bear witness to the fact that you are totally innocent,” he offered, sticking his hands into his pockets and smiling.
“Thanks, Will. Um, well, I better get back. See you on Monday!” she called, scampering up the steps and trying to divert her thoughts to schoolwork. Easier said than done. Her whole body tingled in a reminder of how hot her professor made her.
Dr. Frasier looked down from his second story office window as she scurried down the steps and out towards the library. He had no idea why he’d kissed her so suddenly, but he really wished he hadn’t. Now that he’d gotten a taste, he desperately wanted more, and yet somehow he knew that would be impossible. The discipline cat and mouse game he could have easily kept up, but this… this wasn’t a fun project anymore. Things were getting too real.
He breezed through his Colonial American History 201 papers without really reading them on Sunday. On Monday, he held his breath as everyone shuffled into the seminar in the afternoon. Mary went for her usual spot in the back and didn’t even look at him. He lectured without even thinking about the topic, only thinking about her.
Wednesday he decided he’d better shape up and gave a more thorough discussion with a question and answer session. She still wouldn’t look at him. Friday he barely exuded any anxiety as he walked into his last class of the day, ready to lecture and field questions that would hopefully lead to a debate. He wasn’t thinking about her all of the time now… only half of the time.
He paused as he approached the table and podium. He reached over to set his bag on the table and it slammed a foot away onto the hardwood floor. There she was, standing by the front row talking to Roberta Greer, in irresistibly sensible business attire. His eyes scanned slowly up her body. Black Kate Spade Mary Jane heels. Cream stockings. A black and cream plaid jumper with a drop waist and box pleats that landed halfway up her thighs. A fitted cream button down expertly rolled up to her elbows. And her hair was swept smartly to the side and pulled back in a high ponytail that flipped around as she nodded her head and spoke to Roberta.
Good God, was she trying to kill him? Was she testing him? Certainly she was unaware of what an outfit like that did to him. She always dressed in jeans or pants; had she gotten a job or something? He was terribly curious as he gathered up his bag off of the floor and prepared for the day’s lecture.
He spoke but never heard what he said. A few students argued with each other, but he just nodded and loosened his black tie, unbuttoning the top button. She had her head down and was taking notes in the back row, William leaning over and making comments every now and then. What was he saying to her? Why did she nod her head and smile sweetly at him?
Jealousy was a very unfamiliar feeling when it came to women, but he knew what it was as it twisted his gut. He only wanted her to smile sweetly at him.
“Dr. Frasier, um, it’s five after…”
Taking a breath and looking at the androgynous girl or boy biting his or her lip nervously after the interruption, he frowned over at the clock above the door. “Okay, we’ll pick this up Monday,” he said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “Have a good weekend.”
Everyone kind of paused as they were gathering their things, gave one another a look at the unusually ki
nd dismissal, and then quickly left.
“Miss Tucker?” he called, not even bothering to add that he needed to speak with her. She knew.
Pausing at the top of the steps and giving Will a quick glance, she pressed her lips in a tight, reassuring smile and gave him a quick wave. Oh God, what did that insufferable professor want now? She’d managed to avoid him all week. Well, in person, anyway. He’d been in most of her dreams every night, standing over her with his hands on his hips and telling her to behave.
Why was he going to torment her, today of all days?
She blew out an annoyed breath and approached him as he tidied up the tabletop. When he turned he was actually grinning. What, was he going to gloat now?
“I couldn’t help but notice your attire today, Miss Tucker,” he began, leaning back on the table next to his packed up briefcase.
She nodded as she looked down at her shoes. Yep, he was gloating.
“So… did you get a job or something? Perhaps an internship with the new presidential museum?” he asked, wishing she would look back up at him.
Her brow furrowed as she turned her eyes up to him. Oh, the angry face. He’d missed the angry face; but why was she mad at him? The question had been simple enough.
“You know why I’m dressed like this,” she muttered, blue eyes piercing right through him.
He did? He mentally searched around his desk in his office, trying to recall message slips or meeting reminders that maybe Brad had taken care of but hadn’t told him about. Nothing immediately jumped out at him.
“Look,” she sighed, finally turning her eyes towards the door fretfully. Maybe if she was just honest with him he’d take it easy on her. “I have to be there in ten minutes and I really don’t… I haven’t prepared anything to say and… Will says I’ll be fine if I tell the truth but, I… it’s just not that simple… I…”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, just as Roberta Greer poked her head back in the room. Great, what could she possibly want now?
“Professor,” she nodded politely, then turned her head. “Mary Madeline, we’re ready for you in the meeting room down the hall.”
“All right, thank you,” she quietly replied, taking a breath and looking back down at her shoes. “Sorry, Professor Frasier, I have to…”
“You’ve been called to the Honor Council?” he loudly asked, making her jump as he actually surprised himself. That’s why she was dressed up? That’s why she looked so ashamed? Why hadn’t that dawned on him earlier? Nathaniel Worthington had admitted to filing a formal complaint. His eyes narrowed as he thought of that self-serving spoiled brat.
Nodding, she waited for him to dismiss her. He had other ideas as he grabbed up his briefcase in his right hand and held her shoulder in his left.
“I’m coming with you.”
“What?” she squealed, stepping away from him and shaking her head. Oh God, if these people hated her now then they’d never let her hear the end of it if she brought a professor in. The council was set up to handle all matters without involving the faculty and administration.
Dr. Frasier frowned. Why was she acting like his help was a bad thing? With a word from him the Honor Council would drop the complaint and she wouldn’t have to worry her shy little head about formulating a valid argument. She should have been grateful.
“Don’t look at me like I should be grateful,” she snapped, frowning as she glanced at him and then the door. “I need to take care of this myself.”
He shook his head as she walked towards the open door. “Don’t be ridiculous, I can settle all of this in a minute…”
“I’m going to settle it with my foot up Nathaniel’s ass,” she grumbled, now walking out into the hallway with more resolve. If she was going to get thrown out of the program she was going to go out swinging.
“Don’t you dare!” she heard Dr. Frasier yell just as she slammed his door shut and ran across the hall. She quickly entered the meeting room and nodded at the five Honor Council members as they sat at a long rectangular table in the front of the room. Taking her seat in a single chair in the middle of the room she glanced over her shoulder and tightly smiled at Will, sitting among some other grad students behind her.
“Let’s begin,” Roberta curtly announced, as the boy on her right began to read off of a piece of paper.
There was a hushed scuffle at the door as he continued reading, but everyone couldn’t help but notice Dr. Frasier’s presence as he straightened his tie by the doorway, frowned at Mary, and then took a seat. Mary shifted around in her seat and wondered why in the hell he insisted on interfering and ruining her life.
“Miss Tucker?” another boy asked, folding his hands in front of him. “The floor is yours. Please explain in your own words how you came to be the only student to answer this question correctly.”
Of course she was going to use her own words. What, was she going to plagiarize a TV legal drama as her defense? She kept her thoughts to herself as she slowly stood and smoothed out her skirt. Her cheeks flushed but she only fumbled over the words occasionally. She explained what the question was and her thorough answer. She identified the page out of the reading and the footnote where she’d retrieved the answer. Roberta shook her head slightly as if reprimanding herself for not reading the footnotes. Other kids in the class moaned in the same way. Someone cleared his throat.
Dr. Frasier couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She was lying. Right to the Honor Council. He’d told her about the footnote. Why wasn’t she explaining citing her own damned book? He leaned forward on his knees as anger seethed through him. He mentally ticked off her transgressions. Slamming the door on him and running off, one. Lying? Two. She was in a world of trouble.
“Thank you, Miss Tucker,” another council member nodded, glancing at the other four elected members sitting at the table as they all nodded. He looked back at the crowd of grad students. “Mr. Worthington? You had something to add?”
“Yes,” he began, standing and walking forward. Mary frowned at his navy suit as he buttoned the jacket. What a suck up. “Obviously, she’s lying. There’s no possible way to know her previous knowledge of the subject matter, as my fellow students will attest, because she barely utters one word in class. It’s apparent that she stole the exam before it was administered.”
“What?” she yelled, standing up and facing him as he shook his head down at her. Dr. Frasier sat up straighter in his chair, frowning. “I’m a cheater and a thief now? Okay. And how would I have done that?”
“You tell us,” Nathaniel shrugged, opening his arms. “Did you break into Professor Frasier’s office? Did you steal a copy out of his briefcase? Are you exchanging sexual favors with his TA?”
Everyone was on their feet at that comment. Dr. Frasier was holding Nathaniel’s arm and pulling him backwards. Mary had launched herself towards him, but found Will restraining her in two seconds, one arm wrapped around her waist and one hand over her mouth, pushing her head back into his chest.
“Don’t say anything they can use against you,” he calmly said into her ear. “You’ve got to be the bigger person now, okay?”
“But he’s a lying mother fucking asshole!” she hollered, although no one could decipher anything she’d said because Will’s huge hand was covering her mouth and half of her face.
“Can we please have a little order in here?” Roberta shouted, as everyone was pointing at either Nathaniel or Mary and trying to make an argument.
Dr. Frasier became enraged with jealousy as William placed his hands all over her. He stepped up and held Nathaniel back until he calmed down with the rest of the room, then pushed him into a seat, towering over him with his arms crossed.
“Please, may I speak as a witness?” Will asked, gently guiding Mary back to her chair and easing her into it.
The council members glanced at each other and nodded. Will spoke in great detail about the football game on Saturday, what everyone had seen Nathaniel do, and how bravely Mary had
acted as a modern woman and not a shrinking violet. Dr. Frasier admitted he was slightly impressed at William’s eloquence and ability to formulate a sound argument. He wondered why he wasn’t pursuing a law degree. He wished he would and get the hell out of the history department and far away from Mary.
“Mary Madeline Tucker?”
She swallowed and slowly stood, brushing her skirt down and folding her hands in front of her. She felt warm as everyone’s eyes bore into her back as she awaited her fate.
“It is abundantly clear from your testimony and that of your fellow student, Mr. William McAndrews, that you in fact did not cheat on the exam in question. Furthermore, if you wish to file a complaint against the actions of Mr. Nathaniel Worthington, then now is the time. As soon as this meeting closes, this entire matter closes as well.”
She gave her head a small shake and quietly answered, “No, I don’t.” Like most things she just wanted to forget it ever happened.
“Then this meeting is adjourned.”
The room stood as one and Mary looked over her shoulder to find Dr. Frasier. Will approached her and hugged her, so she smiled and hugged back. He’d been a good friend. He kept a hand on her back as he smiled at her and the other students coming forth to congratulate her. She shook hands and glanced over to where Dr. Frasier had been. He’d disappeared.
“Brad? I’m not coming back to my office this evening,” Dr. Frasier growled into his phone, walking underneath the yellow lamps through the campus. That little girl had better be prepared for what she had coming to her. He was furious.
“Good, because you have a dinner meeting with that hot editor and her two naughty little assistants at Boudin in forty-five minutes.”
Dr. Frasier paused and cursed up at the night sky, forgetting all about his book pitch to the beautiful woman who’d promised him a dinner meeting during a Valentine’s Day party. He’d barely even thought about her since then. He needed to get to the naughty little Miss Tucker’s house, but after a meeting like that he was sure she’d be out having a few drinks, too.
