The Heat Professor (Nerds Who Knot Book 4)

by Amy Bellows

  Damien Ringdal would never take advantage of anyone.

  He shrugs out of his shirt, revealing his lean, wide shoulders. He’s slender and compact for an alpha—the kind of man who spends his time sitting at a desk, listening to classical music.

  I’m far gone enough that I gush slick again just looking at him. His eyes cloud over with lust. In this moment my head is focused and clear. It’s like my body is screaming that this is important—too important to forget.

  He unbuttons his slacks and lets them fall. His white briefs are tented around his hard cock and wet at the tip. The last time we were together, it was nothing more than a heartbreaking compromise. I took what I thought I could get because I figured I couldn’t ask for more. But here Damien is—just as wonderful and handsome, and this time I get to keep him.

  “Do heat companions just stand around and tease their clients?” I ask.

  He laughs. God, I love it when he laughs.

  “Are you unsatisfied with my services? Because I have a few phallic vegetables—”

  I reach for the waistband of his underwear and pull him toward me. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He slides his briefs down, maintaining eye contact the whole time. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.” He steps out of his underwear and places his hands on my hips. “Something tells me my body’s going to have no trouble fucking you for as long as you need it.” His fingers massage my skin, moving around my body to get to my ass.

  Because, after all, my ass is my best feature.

  “If Greg28 were here, he’d want you to smack it. Might as well. You know you want to.”

  He ducks his head into my shoulder as he laughs. In the past I’ve taken this for granted—the ability to talk about my cam show without it bothering him. How many alphas would be okay with that, even laugh at my jokes about it? How many alphas would understand?

  Damien’s hand comes down on my ass hard, and a sweet spark of pain shoots through my body. I finally get why people like to be spanked.

  After my heat is over, I’ll have to send Greg28 a thank you card.

  Damien grabs both of my ass cheeks and lifts me up.

  “What are you—”

  “Taking you to my bed,” he interrupts me.

  The blanket he transported me in stays on the desk as he carries us across the room to the huge bed in the corner.

  “But I’ve started to slick. I’ll get your bed messy—”

  He kisses me, then sets me down on his bed.

  “As much as I love to banter with you, I’ve seen this before, Tatum. I know what’s going on.” He climbs onto the bed and rests his body on top of mine. “It took too long to transport you from your nest. Your body is trying to tell you it isn’t safe to go into heat.”

  I don’t understand. “Isn’t that good? I can put off my heat until—”

  He kisses me again and grinds himself against me. He’s hot and hard against my hip.

  “No. Do you know what happens to omegas who ignore the natural rhythm of their yearly heats? You’re on my bed, baby. I want you to make it smell like you, okay? You’re my omega. Build a nest for me.”

  A lovely cloud descends on my mind. This is different than before. There’s no panic to find the coffee creamers or wondering if Damien will come for me. My alpha is asking me to make a nest for him in his bed.

  “Pillows,” I mutter.

  “I’ll go get you more. Wait here, okay?”

  Damien retreats to the desk to pick something off the floor and brings his phone over to me. A tinny sound comes from his phone: the familiar tone of “I Will Always Love You.” The Dolly Parton version. As far as my mother’s concerned, that’s the only version.

  My alpha takes such good care of me.

  “Thank you.”

  He kisses the top of my head and disappears out the bedroom door.

  28

  Damien

  The moment an omega succumbs to their heat is fascinating to watch. One second, they’ll be talking to you about phallic vegetables, and the next something indefinable takes hold. Their eyes drift off. They forget where they are or what they’re doing. That loss of self can mean only one thing: Tatum’s managed to restart the nesting phase of his heat.

  Even for an experienced heat companion, moving an unbonded omega after his nesting period without causing major medical and psychological damage is a huge feat. But my omega is building his nest with all of the pillows I brought from the guest house in a familiar pattern that means everything’s going to be okay.

  His skin has started to shine with sweat, and his slick has started to drip on the bedding. The down comforter is expensive. If he was any other man, I would have changed the covers. But Tatum is mine.

  I want my bed to smell like him.

  As my omega builds his nest safely in my bed, I massage his back. I don’t have to think about what Tatum needs—my alpha knows with utter certainty. He nips at Tatum’s shoulder and massages his ass. Tatum’s omega stops to nuzzle my chest or kiss my hip. His omega knows what I need too. That’s never mattered before. In all my years doing this, I never realized alphas have needs during a heat as well, and that’s okay. Tatum’s omega wants to give back. Just like Tatum, he’s sweet and generous—exactly the kind of man I’d choose to spend the rest of my life with if fate hadn’t intervened.

  For a decade, I’ve helped omegas through their heat. I’ve counseled hundreds of alphas and written a dissertation on the art of keeping an omega safe and satisfied during the most wild, euphoric experience two lovers can share. But it isn’t until this moment that I truly understand what sharing a heat with an omega means.

  A heat is nothing more than the few days where our inner alphas and omegas come out to love each other. It’s that simple—and that profound. In this simplicity, I can’t imagine sharing a heat with anyone else ever again. My alpha is meant for Tatum’s omega, and now nothing can keep us apart.

  When his lovely nest is finally complete, Tatum’s breath quickens. He’s sweaty and needy now—ready to be bred. I lie down next to him in our nest and bring him into my arms. We don’t need to speak. I simply moan in his ear, and he whimpers against me. My teeth skate along his neck, sucking and biting as I go. I trail my fingers along his slippery ass to where he’s drenched and waiting for me.

  He wails as I sink two fingers inside him. Not because it’s too much, but because it’s not enough. It’s like I can read his mind. That’s never happened before.

  He humps desperately against me. Our bodies are slick, almost slimy. I’m coated in sweat too. As I move against him, there’s no resistance. We slip and slide against one another, the heat of his body burning against mine. He spins in my arms, grabbing for my cock. My alpha stops his hand and pushes his chest down on the mattress, mounting him. I sink into Tatum all in one stroke. The growl reverberating from my lips is pure instinct. My alpha has waited patiently. He’s let me sort through this in my own time. But now he drives inside Tatum’s omega, and Tatum’s omega arches his body up to meet him. Our bodies squish and slam into one another, the pleasure so consuming I can’t see. There’s only us and the creaking mattress underneath us. Only us and the warm air all around.

  Tatum keeps pulsing around my cock. I don’t know many times he’s come. He thrusts back into me, again and again, giving as good as he gets. I’ve never felt anything so primal, so uncomplicated. I’ve never felt anything so right. Then I grow. He shrinks. We fuse together like hot metal about to cool.

  Tatum relaxes into the bed. I wrap my arms around him and roll us to the side. This time when he arches his neck, I bite down hard. He lets out a big breath—not in pleasure, but relief. His poor omega has waited so long, and now he can finally be at peace.

  I lick at the bite, lapping up the streaks of red. My alpha plants kisses around the wound, reassuring Tatum. It’s almost as if he’s apologizing for me, promising it will never happen again. And he’s right. I’ll never question my connection to Tatum after this. How coul
d I?

  Tatum’s omega closes his eyes, his entire body going slack. When I feel the inevitable need to grind against him, Tatum’s hips roll with me, his body staying relaxed and calm, even as his ass spasms around me again. Months of tension are finally gone.

  My knot stays swollen inside him for hours. Maybe an entire day. I don’t know. We stay interlocked, my alpha and his omega refusing to part. They’ve never cared about our ages or my jobs. They’ve never understood why we couldn’t be together. They could only feel our undeniable connection.

  When I finally soften within him, Tatum’s omega turns around and tucks his head underneath my chin, curling his arms into my chest like he did back in the shed.

  I hold him close and slowly drift off to sleep.

  29

  Tatum

  I’ve put this off for too long. My inner omega became nothing but a forgotten part of myself that I poisoned away with those damn suppressants. I was so afraid of what might happen when I couldn’t hold everything together on my own. But this meek creature swimming in my veins isn’t wrong. He only needs a moment of softness—a moment when he doesn’t have to take care of someone else.

  Is that too much to ask for?

  Damien’s alpha isn’t stronger, simply less weary. You can only take suppressants for so long before your heat comes to call. You can only deny your own humanity in order to take care of someone else for so long until you fall apart. And here I am, dissolving into wet, lusty hunger, and Damien isn’t scared. He keeps filling me with his seed—wrapping around me with his warm limbs. He has so much to give, and he doesn’t seem to mind that I need to take just this once.

  Next time it can be his turn.

  After a long rest, I wake, still consumed with that fiery need. Our bodies are filthy from all the sweat, cum, and slick that have dried in a sticky mess overnight. I don’t care. We can shower later. I need his knot again.

  I roll out of bed, my body thumping once it hits the floor, and crawl toward the desk. My omega has already claimed Damien’s bed. But his desk doesn’t have my scent. And his desk is a glorious thing.

  With shaking limbs, I push myself up the side of it, precariously resting on one knee, then the other.

  I exhale the only word I’ve said since descending into my full heat: “Professor.”

  Damien’s alpha rises from the bed and stalks toward me.

  “Suspenders,” I rasp out. “Glasses.”

  My omega’s been fantasizing about Damien for months now, and he needs those fantasies to come true. He needs it as much as he needs to be knotted.

  Damien’s alpha doesn’t need to be told twice. He puts it all on: his glasses, his slacks, his suspenders, and his button-up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. He even slides on his black loafers. I can almost see him at the front of the classroom, writing on the chalkboard. He seems to read my mind because he turns around so I can look at his ass.

  “If you don’t leave my office soon, I’m going to be tempted to do something we’ll both regret,” he says evenly. It’s not the standard professor/student script. It’s my deepest wish—my wildest fantasy.

  How does he know?

  He turns and lets his eyes rake over my naked body—the crook of my neck still crusted with blood from his bond bite.

  “Your last paper on the culture of brothels in the Wild West was thrilling to read. I’ve taught so many students, and most of them don’t give a damn, but when I read your work, I get excited about teaching, Tatum. If I can inspire a mind like yours, then the time I’ve spent as a teacher is worth it.”

  Fat tears slide down my cheeks. He means it. I can tell.

  “I’ve read almost everything you’ve ever written. I tracked down all your publications at the library,” I admit. I’m in the middle of my heat, but it’s like my inner omega understands Damien and I need this moment—that our minds are as fated to each other as our bodies, and we can’t bond completely without them.

  He rushes toward me, grabbing my chin in his hands and giving me the kiss we should have had in his office in the very beginning, if we weren’t both too scared to accept what this was.

  “I love the way you think, Tatum.” He kisses me again. “I could spend the rest of my life learning with you.”

  I laugh, the tears still gathering in my eyes. “Will you? Can we?”

  “Yes. But for now, I need you. Right here on this desk.” He grabs my hips and pulls me down in front of the drawers. He’s almost rough, and a thrill rushes through me. His fingers wrap gently around my throat, and his breath is hot against my ear as he whispers, “There isn’t a lock on the door of my office. You’ll have to be very quiet.”

  My body trembles. “Oh, Damien.” He licks along his bond bite, and my knees buckle. His fingers tighten around my throat.

  “This okay, baby?” he asks, his voice barely louder than an exhale.

  “Yes.”

  Even though my skin is still sticky with slick and cum, Damien pushes my chest down onto the desk. The evidence of our love smears all over the ungraded papers.

  “I can’t get you out of my head, Tatum. And it isn’t just your gorgeous ass or your smile. It’s the way you look at the world. You’re funny and smart and you care about the same things I do. I connect with you in a way I never thought I’d connect with anyone.”

  He presses his cock along my opening. I’ve slicked a little since waking up, but he hasn’t prepped me at all. It’s an aggressive choice, and my omega yearns for it. In my fantasies, I never seduced Damien. Damien always admitted he wanted me—needed me. And as Damien slides inside my body, even though my ass is still sore and sensitive from taking his knot for so long, the pain is exactly what I need. Damien’s possession of me isn’t charity. It’s real and powerful, just like our connection.

  I start leaking precum straight away, and I don’t care if it gets all over the papers. I want it to. Damien said I could be loud. He said I could be his.

  Damien grips my hips and slams hard into me. “Fuck, you feel good. You feel like mine.”

  I look back at him. He’s still wearing those suspenders, he’s simply unzipped his slacks. Unlike the first night we were together, it doesn’t make me feel cheap. Because regardless of how much clothing he’s wearing, he’s my alpha.

  The intellectual part of me fades away, and my inner omega takes over again. Whining incoherently, I scrabble at the stacks of papers as Damien fucks into me so hard, the desk shakes. I can’t remember where we are. His office? My shed? The university?

  “Ugnnn!” I groan as I come hard over the papers, clamping down on his cock. He keeps fucking me, and God, it hurts. In the best way. I cry out as he bites down on my scent gland again, and his knot stretches me bigger and bigger until I’m not sure I can breathe. He’s still thrusting in shorter strokes, still claiming me with his teeth. This is every fantasy I’ve ever had on steroids. This is more than I could ever want. So much I don’t realize what’s happening. That I’ve been granted the one thing I never wished for because it was too greedy.

  But as my head clears, as Damien kisses my back and I remember exactly where we are, a wonderful realization washes over me.

  The universe is like the Santa Claus from Miracle on 34th Street. It’s given me everything I could ever want all at the same time.

  30

  Damien

  Most heats end the way a train starts—gradually and over time. The omega wants less and less sex until they fall asleep.

  Then there are the heats that end a different way.

  As we both pant for breath, our bodies draped over my desk, Tatum’s pheromones go out like a flashlight. They’re on one moment, off the next. That’s when I remember I never took a contraceptive. It’s fairly easy to prevent getting an omega pregnant during their heat. I simply have to take a pill the day before an omega’s heat starts, and I’m good to go. But I didn’t get any prescribed by my doctor this year, and I wouldn’t have known to take one a day in advance anyway.

>   It never even occurred to me to please Tatum with my fingers the way I did with that omega so many years ago, but even if it had, I don’t think my alpha would have settled for that. He wanted to claim Tatum, body and soul.

  We’re still tied by my knot, so I guide him to the bed carefully, step by awkward step. He needs to rest on something soft. I push some of the pillows off the bed so we can lie down somewhere dry.

  “How do you feel? Are you all right?” I ask.

  He turns his head to look back at me, a calm smile spreading across his face. He reaches his hand back to cup my jaw. “You bonded to me.”

  “Yes. I hope that’s okay. I—”

  He leans in and gives me the gentlest of kisses. “Socios in Fatis.”

  I’m surprised he remembers. He was deep into his nesting phase when we discussed that.

  “That’s right. You and I are meant for each other.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut, as if my words are a food or a smell he wants to savor.

  “I’m pregnant, aren’t I?” He says it calmly—maybe because he’s coming down from his heat pheromones or maybe because he doesn’t mind. It’s hard to say. He’s only twenty-two.

  “Yes. I think you are. How do you feel about that?” It will be hard for me if he doesn’t want to keep the baby, but it’s something we need to talk about.

  He shifts a little, reaching down to pull my arm more tightly around him. “Well, it’s a heat pregnancy, so our baby will be here soon enough to meet their half brothers and sisters this Thanksgiving. That’s nice. I think I’ll like being a father if I get to do it with you.” All the insecurity in his voice and body are gone. He isn’t worried about the pregnancy, so I’m not going to worry either.

  “Will you move in with me? Your mother too? She can stay in the main house or the guest house. Whichever would be more comfortable.”