by Lila Younger
“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” I grumble.
The coffee didn’t spill on me thankfully, because I have no time today to go home and change. Could this morning get any worse? And of course, the answer from above is always yes. I look up from picking up my tumbler off the ground, and everything in me freezes, including my lungs ability to breathe.
Super Hot Professor is standing in front of me, wearing a forest green cashmere sweater and a button down shirt that’s perfectly put together with dark jeans. The green brings out the color of his eyes, a pure hazel color that’s ringed with gold. He’s got a bit of scruff, and dark curly hair you could really run your hands through. I don’t think there’s ever been a professor at this school that looks this yummy. In fact, I’m certain of it. He looks like he should be in the movies, not here in a tiny liberal arts college. He’s so sexy I can feel my body responding automatically, my body pulsing heat between my legs. No wonder Tif was talking about whipped cream. I’m so caught up in staring that I almost miss his words.
“I’m not the one on my phone here,” he points out. Wow. Even his voice is sexy. It’s like dark chocolate, velvety smooth, with an undercurrent of something more promised.
Then his words sink in. Crap. He’s right. I snap back up and my face turns red from mortification. I promise right here right now never to walk and text ever again. I want to bolt out of there, but even in my embarrassed state I know that would just make me look even crazier. My eyes frantically scan him and luckily I didn’t get any coffee on him either. And then I look back at his face, and he’s got his eyebrows raised, and I realize that he probably thought I was checking him out. My heart is about to jump right out of my chest because I was checking him out, but not just then, and the last thing I want to do is be so blindingly obvious and now there’s this awkward silence between us and Ishouldreallysaysomething!!
“I wasn’t!” I blurt out.
Great, now he probably thinks I’m a moron. I wish that I worked a little harder on my flirting and small talk skills. But I’ve never bothered with that sort of thing because well, I figured I’d always have time later. Plus, there hasn’t been anyone who’s grabbed my attention. I see the flaw in my thinking now.
“I mean, I thought maybe I spilled- I. I’m sorry,” I finish feebly.
“Apology accepted,” he said with a wry smile. On second thought, maybe he’s used to every woman going gaga in his vicinity. “Have a good day.”
Super Hot Professor brushes past me smelling deliciously masculine in something woodsy and spiced, leaving me even more light headed. Have I been breathing throughout our encounter? I’m not sure, because I feel like my brains short circuited. I sneak a look at his perfectly toned ass as he walks away down the hall and feel another spurt of heat in my lower half. Tif was totally right about him being gorgeous, I think as I collapse against the wall. I have to tell her. I whip out my phone and shoot off a text, and then I remember that I’m definitely late, and I still have no idea where class is. But man, I need a moment. There’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate on Native American Art when all I’m thinking about is how good it’d feel to wrap my legs around the new teacher. God I hope that he isn’t my teacher.
And then I hope he is, because he’s got the kind of looks that make a girl want to bump into him every day just for another glance at his face.
Get Filthy Professor here!
Other books by Lila Younger
What Her Dad Doesn’t Know
Boss of Me
Her Virgin Secret
Filthy Professor
About Lila Younger
Lila has spent her whole life in the PNW, where rainy days kept her inside with a book. A lover of the written word, she can’t believe that it’s taken her over twenty years to get around to writing a book. She’s always believed in love at first sight and happily ever afters. When she isn’t working on her stories, Lila likes to bake and hike in the mountains that make up her backyard.
