Scandalous (A Scandalous Novella) #1 (The Scandalous Serial)

by Jamie, Danielle

  SCANDALOUS

  An Erotic Novella

  Published by Danielle Wright

  Copyright 2016 Danielle Jamie

  *BLURB*

  She’s the hot new professor.

  He’s the star quarterback.

  A scandalous new app is about to make their two worlds collide.

  What happens when that line is crossed? Because once you step over it—there’s no going back…

  PROLOGUE

  Haylee

  I’VE DONE THIS so many times.

  More times than I would like to admit.

  Desperation makes people do things they normally wouldn’t do. I heard that line more times than I could count growing up. I never fully grasped the severity of those words until three years ago.

  I can now say with full honesty: I’m as desperate as they come, and I’ll do anything to make my dreams a reality.

  But, the thing is I have standards. Very high standards.

  Doing what I do—it isn’t easy. I not only want, but need to be able to enjoy myself since I have to do this three nights a week.

  Right now I am finding myself torn between wanting to follow through with this evening or walking away before the secret life I built so well gets blown wide open.

  For the first time in three years, I find myself contemplating climbing off of this bar stool I’m sitting on and going home. My fingers shake slightly as I grab my vodka cranberry and bring it up to my lips. If there was ever a moment that I need liquid courage—this moment would be it. No way in hell am I doing this sober.

  You’re making the biggest mistake of your life. The nagging voice whispers to me in the back of my subconscious as I watch Nate Preston walk towards me with a swagger in his step that screams confidence and a smile that can stop a million hearts, as he makes his way through the packed hotel bar and towards me.

  The moment his eyes lock with mine butterflies invade my belly. If he’s shocked to see me sitting here, he isn’t showing it. His face is as relaxed and inviting as it was the moment I spotted him entering the bar.

  A few people stop him to congratulate him on the football team's win last weekend, and with each step he takes, bringing him one step closer to me, the faster my heart races.

  I’m expecting him...but he most certainly is not expecting me.

  He’s expecting to meet, Phoebe: my alter ego, named after a character in one of my all-time favorite books, The Catcher in the Rye.

  Part of me thinks I can still leave. I can come up with some reasonable excuse as to why I’m here at the bar wearing the tiny black dress and red suede heels that Phoebe told him she’d be wearing. But my desire to finally be with him overpowers the fear storm brewing deep inside of me.

  I let out a shaky breath and try to push the fear into the back of my mind as I smile back up at him.

  “Miss Rose?” The familiar deep, husky drawl hits my ears and instantly I feel as if a bucket of ice has suddenly been poured over the top of my head and my insides have been set on fire.

  Feelings of elation and fear are at full force right now as I toss back the remainder of my drink before slamming my glass back down onto polished wood bar and watch as he casually slides onto the seat beside me.

  There’s no turning back now...

  CHAPTER ONE

  Nate

  MY PHONE VIBRATES in my pocket continuously as I make my way towards Miss Rose’s European History class. Pulling it out of my jeans I scroll through the notifications as I maneuver around the swarm of people scurrying to their next class. It’s nothing but a million Facebook comments on the status I posted an hour ago about the party tonight at my frat house to celebrate the start of the new school year.

  Everyone’s buzzing about it because it’s going to be a weekend-long party that begins as soon as our first home game ends tonight.

  “Nate!” I hear the sound of my best friend Asher shouting my name down the long corridor just as I step out front the doors leading into the lecture hall I’ll be interning in.

  Spinning on my heels I raise my hands in the air and back against the wall as I try to avoid being trampled by a bunch of freshmen who are rushing into the lecture hall to claim their seats before the class begins.

  I shove my phone into my pocket and yell back, “Asher, my man. Ready for the game tonight?” I ask as I reach out clapping my hand into his before pulling each other in for a ‘bro hug’ doing the official two pats on the back before breaking apart.

  We live in the same frat house, but Asher is what I like to call a morning procrastinator. He waits until the very last second to roll his ass out of bed and get to class. Somehow he manages to keep a 4.0 average with minimal effort which I envy his ass for because I, on the other hand, barely hold a 3.5-grade point average. Thankfully, I don’t care about my grade as long as it's passing and I can play football. Especially with the number of scouts that’ll be on the prowl this year.

  It’s my senior year here at The University Mississippi or as most know us as Ole Miss, and if all goes well I won’t be job hunting come spring because I will have been snatched up in an early round of the NFL Draft. I almost dropped out of college last year and entered the draft, but my father suggested I finish up my degree so I have a backup plan to fall back on for, if, or when, I leave football behind me.

  Everyone’s asked me if I’m nervous about my future in football and to all of their surprise my answer is always no. I know I’m good. I know that come 2016 I’ll be drafted to the NFL and playing in the 2016-2017 season. Some call it cocky or arrogant and say it’ll be my downfall, but me--I call it confidence and perseverance. I have determination embedded in my DNA and nothing nor no one will stand in the way of my hopes, dreams, and goals I have planned out for myself.

  “Dude. I cannot believe you’re interning with the hottest teacher to grace the fucking planet. I’m so jealous right now. I have to intern with Mr. Perkins, who smells like stale coffee while you get to work side by side with the Heidi Klum of fucking education.”

  I can’t help but roll my eyes and laugh at Asher. The kid has been freaking out for days since I got the official notice that I’d be interning with the new professor. She just took over for Mr. Fitzpatrick, who retired at the end of the spring semester. It wasn’t a day after it was announced she was the new professor and every guy in the frat house was googling her and Facebook hunting to try and find out what she looked like and the big question: was she single? But knowing the douchebags I’m friends with that really wouldn’t matter much to them.

  The way I look at it being her intern will make my final year at Ole Miss end with a bang. The next few months I’ll have some fine ass eye candy to help pass the time and help make my last year of college not such a drag. And since I am Nate Preston, I don’t doubt I’ll be saying ‘Goodbye Ole Miss’ while fucking her over her desk.

  I know there’s the whole no student-teacher relationship rule but, believe me, that rule gets broken daily. Especially by the brown nosing sorority bitches who blow their teachers after class for the extra credit needed to keep their grades passing.

  As long as they keep it under wraps and don’t go running their mouths to the entire campus, nothing's ever done about it. Since I’ve been here, I’ve only witnessed one teacher leave due to having an affair. The only reason he left was because the dude’s wife found out about it and made him quit and transfer to another University.

  I laugh off his comment and glance into the lecture hall where I notice the loud chatter quiet suddenly followed by the slamming of a door below. My eyes immediately fall onto Miss Haylee Ros
e also known as TILF by my frat buddies.

  Fuck me. She’s hot in her pictures—but they don’t hold a candle to the real thing.

  “Holy fuck, dude she is smoking hot! I wonder if the shit Derrick was saying last night is true.”

  I run my hand over my face as I try to reel myself in. I can’t keep staring at her or else I’m going to walk into the room pointing at her with a fucking raging hard on.

  “What the hell was Derrick saying? I missed this conversation. Enlighten me quick because I gotta get in there.”

  Asher’s eyes grow wide as he looks from her then back to me before leaning in and dropping his voice down to a whisper. “Derrick said he hooked up with a new chick on that app he was telling us about…you know the one he uses to hook up—for a few grand.”

  Nodding my head yes I wave my hand in a circular motion between us signaling for him to hurry up with his fucking story.

  “Well, he told me that he met this girl, Phoebe, on there last week, and she looked a hell of a lot like Miss Rose just she had blonde hair instead of the dark brown she’s sporting now.”

  I let out a loud booming laugh and quickly cover my mouth to muffle the sound as I hear the sound of wooden seats creaking and spot the upper half of the lecture hall shifting to look behind them towards Asher and me.

  “You have to be shitting me. Come on! Our new history teacher is not a fucking escort!” I shout at him with a loud whisper as I fight back the grin trying to crack across my face.

  I swear Derrick has officially lost his goddamn mind.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Asher glances down at Miss Rose one more time before turning his eyes back to mine. “I don’t know, man. But one thing I do know is I may just make an account on there so I can scope out this Phoebe. How fucking awesome would that be if our teacher was a hooker? We could use that shit to our advantage! He said you pay their fee or whatever to go out on a date and they have to do whatever you want. Seriously, Nate. Are you hearing what I am saying here? You can get a hall pass to fuck the hot teacher—hell, all of us can! That’s one hell of a way to end our year here. Banging the hottest teacher in all of fucking Mississippi!”

  Looking at my watch I see it's five ‘til ten. Class starts at ten sharp. “I gotta get in there. Don’t want my first day to start off with me late. For now, let’s keep this whole Phoebe—Miss Rose conspiracy theory between us. I’ll text Derrick too. I don’t want anything to fuck this up for me, Asher. I have scouts watching me. I don’t need some big scandal following me around and ruining my chance to play professional football.”

  He gives me a curt nod in agreement.

  Asher’s my best friend. Has been since the first week of freshman year here. He knows how badly I want this and will take my request seriously.

  “Ohh, and good luck with Mr. Perkins,” I yell over my shoulder with sarcasm evident in my voice before making my way into the lecture hall. The entire room is filled with students. I’d say they’re all eager to learn, but ninety-nine percent of them are staring down at their cell phones or chatting with friends. None looking as if they have any desire to get out their tablets or laptops and take notes for the next hour.

  I jog down the stairs and over to Miss Rose’s podium where she’s standing looking over a stack of papers before her. She’s wearing a form-fitting dress that’s making wild thoughts run freely through my mind as I take in every inch of her. She’s a few inches shorter than me. She’s on the taller side for a woman looking to be about 5’8”, and she has the body of a fucking dream. Nice round booty, big tits, and a tiny hourglass waist. Her dark brown hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail, and she completes the hot teacher look with black framed glasses that immediately make my dick ache inside the confinement of my briefs to be sprung free.

  She’s a walking wet dream in the living flesh, and I have to fucking work alongside her remaining professional until May?

  Fuck that.

  This is going to be pure. Fucking. Torture.

  As she nibbles on the end of her pen, I find my thoughts growing dirtier and Asher’s words begin to buzz loudly inside of my head.

  The ringing of the bell alerting us that class is beginning snaps me out of my Miss Haylee Rose haze and instantly makes me remember that we have an audience of about three hundred students staring down at us right now.

  Her eyes lift from the stack of papers and lock onto mine and it dawns on her I’m standing beside her.

  A bright, friendly, and genuine smile dances across her lips as she stretches her hand out towards me. “Mr. Nathan Preston, right?” she asks, her voice soft and slightly raspy. It’s the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard.

  I find myself stuttering over my words as I try to pull myself together. She’s just another chick. I meet hundreds a day—all who wish to get into my pants. Yet, here I am falling all over myself and looking like a clumsy teenager talking to his fucking crush for the first time.

  “Yes. Nate…Nate Preston, ma’am,” I say remembering my southern manners drilled into me by my mother at the last second as I finally find the words to answer her. “You can call me Nate when we’re not needing to be formal, Miss. Rose.”

  “Nice to finally meet you, Nate. I’ve heard so many great things about you. I think we’re going to have a fantastic year together!”

  I swallow hard before flashing her my killer smile that always gets the ladies to fall at my feet. “All good things—I’m shocked. I would have thought that after talking to my teachers you’d be running away screaming and demanding a new intern.” I tease playfully as I finally pull my head out of my goddamn ass.

  “Ohh, believe me, I’ve been warned to keep a close eye on you because you are known to be a prankster around campus, but overall I’ve been told lots of great things from my fellow peers. I even heard that we may be watching you play with a big fancy NFL team possibly next fall. That’s something to be very proud of, Nate. You have the potential to do great things. Don’t ever undersell yourself; especially when it comes to your career. There're a million other people in line right behind you biting at the bits, fighting to be where you want to be, so you have to show everyone you deserve it and not only that but want it more than you want anything else in the world. If you don’t, one of those people behind you will and in the end will end up living the dreams you had all planned out. Just remember that.”

  Normally when teachers try to give me the whole ‘do your best and always fight for what you want’ speech I tone them out and nod robotically as it goes in one ear and out the other. But with her I really feel what she’s saying. I can tell it's genuinely coming from the heart—and even possibly from her own life experience. I think that she’s right. This is going to be a great experience for me working beside her. The eye candy is just a bonus.

  “I’ll be sure to remember that,” I say sincerely as I shift on the heels of my loafers to face the class beside her. I watch for the next hour as she works her magic engaging the classroom, demanding all eyes be on her and students interaction with her enthusiasm and excitement for teaching and the students learning.

  By the time the bell rings alerting us that our hour is up, I find myself pulling my phone from my pocket and going to the app store to download Candy Heart’s, which to anyone who pays the ridiculously high account fee knows it’s a hookup app designed to appear as a dating site. The girls who use it along with the guys are highly known to be ‘sugar daddies looking for sugar babies.' Which I fall into neither of those categories so never had any desire to use the app—plus I haven’t had any need to pay for sex since I get it willingly on a daily basis on campus. But if there’s even the slightest chance she’s on there, then I’m going to give it a try.

  I read the terms and conditions and get all signed up just as the bell rings and the class fills with a new group of students. I feel her hand come to rest on my shoulder causing me to jump and slightly almost dropping my phone.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The laughter
in her voice makes my heart pick up speed as it beats frantically in my chest.

  I brush it off and shove my phone back in my pocket. “No problem. Did you need me to do anything?” I ask as I turn to face her. Her hand falls away from my shoulder as she reaches for a stack of papers on the podium. I can feel the heat from her hand still burning my skin through my polo shirt as she hands me the pile of papers instructing me to call on each row to come down and collect the syllabus for the class.

  The next few hours fly by, and I slowly find myself growing more relaxed around her as the day goes on. By the time we reach the end of the day I’m feeling more like my old self and more than ready to get down to the gym to warm up before practice. I have a lot of pent up energy to burn off after spending more than half the day beside Miss Rose.

  All I know is I can tell after only one day—the gym is going to be my best friend, more than it already is, and I’m going to need to get completely smashed this weekend to help me get over the fact I blew three grand on a fucking hooker account filled with spoiled rich bitches looking for their next sugar daddy to pay their fucking rent.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Haylee

  I’VE OFFICALLY BEEN a college professor for exactly one week today--and all I can say is I am loving it. I want to pinch myself daily each time I step into this hall and know it’s mine. Three years ago when my world crumbled around me, I thought this moment would never happen. Now I’m teaching at one of the best colleges in Mississippi.

  I watch my teaching assistant for the year, Mr. Preston—who insists on me calling him Nate talk when we’re not in the classroom. He’s with a group of girls from class talking about football; even though I imagine they couldn’t really care less about how the team is doing--and more about if Nate is single.

  Which, by the way, he is and I shamelessly admit I know this because I scoped out his social media accounts...of course only for the purpose of knowing who I’ll be working with five days a week for the entire school year--there’s absolutely no other reason.