Teach Me: A Bad Boy Professor Romance (The Me Series Book 1)

by Penelope Marshall

  "Next time she opens her mouth to tell you off, push her against a wall and kiss her."

  "I don't think she would appreciate that."

  "All women appreciate a strong man taking charge of the situation, and all women love being dominated. I don't care how much they try to bullshit you into believing otherwise."

  "Fuckin' Ryder, never gonna change."

  "Hey, if it ain't broke don't fix it."

  "Are you ever gonna get married."

  "Never. I'm roaming free."

  "So, lemme ask you—what are you gonna do if Hannah meets somebody and leaves?"

  "If she finds someone she wants to spend the rest of her life with, I'll pay for her wedding my damn self."

  I gulped down a few sips of my beer. "We shall see my friend. We shall see."

  He held his glass up. "Saluti."

  I tapped my glass on his. "Saluti."

  He set his glass on the table. "Did I help?"

  I chuckled. "No. Of course not."

  "What do you have going on the rest of the day? You wanna come over for dinner? Hannah's making pot roast."

  "I have to go to lunch with this girl, and then I have to go to the game with her."

  "See, moving on already."

  I shook my head. "She really isn't my type."

  "Is she mine?"

  "No. My coworkers are off-limits."

  "Since when?"

  "Since Sonya."

  He rolled his eyes. "Never gonna get over that one, huh?"

  I shook my head. "Never."

  HUNGRY FOR HER

  CHER

  A few hours later…

  I made my way to the closet to find something suitable for a date—my first date. I almost couldn't believe this momentous occasion was being squandered on Reese, but maybe he would surprise me? Maybe he wouldn't be the man I thought I knew—maybe?

  Sifting through my clothes, there wasn't much I had to offer in the way of sexy attire, so a tight tank and a pair of skinny jeans would have to do. I jumped in the shower letting the hot water run over my tired shoulders and tense back while vivid thoughts of Mr. Donovan asking me to stay with him began to traipse through my mind. His voice. His delivery. I should have stayed instead of running. I was always running. I was tired of running.

  I made the decision right then and there I was going to give Reese a chance. I was going to give me a chance. I wanted the kind of love I saw in the movies. The kind of love that would make me want to surrender my whole self to someone else. The kind of love my mother warned me about.

  I exhaled my fear into the enveloping steam, hoping it would dissipate, but that would be too easy, and life was far from easy. I gathered my composure and stepped out of the shower, wrapping my towel around me before wiping the fog from the mirror. I took a good look at what I was working with.

  This isn't going to be easy…

  REGAN

  Across town…

  "So tell me, Sophia, why aren't you married?" I asked, wondering how someone so beautiful hadn't been snatched up yet.

  "Just waiting for the right man," she replied, winking at me before taking a bite of her salad.

  Goddammit.

  I set myself up for that one. I had to change the subject without seeming like an asshole.

  "I'm sure he's right around the corner."

  "Or closer." She smiled.

  I took a sip of my water, hoping the awkward moment would pass, but as I sat watching her eye me like an animal in heat, I knew it wouldn't.

  "So, do you think we have a chance to win tonight?"

  "With Reese Lex at the helm—yes!" she assured me.

  "He's in my class. A little arrogant, if you ask me."

  "He is, but he's the best. Don't you think he's earned the right to be a little arrogant?"

  "No, I don't." I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my jaw. "I believe in a little humility."

  "And that's why I like you so much, Regan. You're so—" she paused for a long while, seemingly searching for the right word. "—humble."

  And here I thought she was going to say something profound. She began to chatter off about her hair, and the way her hairstylist had trimmed it incorrectly the last time she had a cut. I nodded, pretending to listen, throwing in the occasional 'uh huh', hoping there wouldn't be a quiz at the end.

  My thoughts drifted off to the moment my cheek touched Cher's, igniting a fire in every cell in my body. How could I have let it get this far? She was a student, and I couldn't stop thinking about her. I hoped, for my own sake, it was only lust I was dealing with. Lust was easy to set aside—easy to divert. Something deeper, though—something deeper than lust—now that would be a crime.

  My mother had told me about love once. She said she loved my father more than anything else in the world. She spoke of how he could make her smile with one look—change her mood with one kiss—make her feel like she was the only one who had ever mattered to him. He loved her like no one else had ever loved her, and when he died in the war, a part of her died with him. I never understood how a person could give a part of themselves to someone else—until now. Maybe my mom could shed some light on what was happening although, deep inside, I knew. I liked her. I really liked her.

  I was startled out of my trance by Sophia waving her hand in my face, trying to get my attention. "Regan."

  "Sorry, I was just thinking about—"

  "What you're gonna wear tonight?" she interrupted.

  No sense in causing waves. "That's exactly what I was thinking." I motioned to the waiter for the check.

  "Oh, you're ready to go?" she asked, disappointedly.

  "Yeah, I'm tired, and I wanna get some rest before tonight. I wanna be fresh—"

  She nodded. "Oh, yes, fresh. We want you to be fresh."

  Maybe to a man who was interested in her, this sort of blatant flirtation would be a turn on, but to a man who had about as much interest in her as a rock had to a cloud in the sky her words were almost an annoyance.

  "Here's your check, sir." The waiter handed me a small black folder with a receipt hanging halfway out.

  "Thank you," I said, sliding two twenty dollar bills inside the folder before handing it back to him.

  "Change?"

  Standing from my seat, I smiled. "No, keep it. Thank you."

  "I'm impressed. Why such a big tip?" Sophia asked, sliding her purse strap over her shoulder.

  "I waited tables in college and made next to nothing. I know how hard they work, and I wanna help out when I can—now that I can."

  She brushed by me, planting a quick peck on my cheek. "Humble and a philanthropist."

  "It's not a big deal. Really. It's just something I do. No need to blow it out of proportion."

  "I do what pleases me, Regan," she said coyly.

  I wasn't going to feed into her flirtation, so I kept my mouth shut as I followed her through the exit.

  She turned back to me. "I gotta get to my next class. Tonight then?"

  I nodded. "Tonight."

  Watching as she left, I pulled my phone from my pocket, texting my mom as I walked to my car.

  Me: I'm going out with a math teacher tonight.

  Mom: What happened to the student?

  Me: I can't deal with her. She makes me act like a different person when I'm around her.

  Mom: Different bad?

  Me: I think so. I can't focus, and I need to focus.

  Mom: It really doesn't sound bad to me.

  Me: I'm telling you. She would make you crazy, too.

  Mom: I just think you should consider all the possibilities.

  Me: Possibilities?

  Mom: We aren't promised tomorrow. What if she's the one? She won't be in college forever you know. Think about it.

  Me: I'm tired of thinking about it. Tired of thinking about her!!!

  Mom: Sounds like quite the opposite with all those exclamation points.

  Me: Bye, Mom.

  Mom: Call me. You know I worry.

>   I slid into my car, tossing the phone in the center console—irritated by the conversation.

  The one?

  How could someone who enticed such ire in me be the one? The one I needed to let get away, maybe?

  I pulled out of the parking space and headed down the street toward my house. The sidewalks were littered with couples holding hands, and I wondered if they had always been there. Maybe I was only noticing them now because of the situation I'd found myself in? Before I knew it, I was pulling into my driveway. I'd gotten home without even paying attention to the road, daydreaming about Cher and how much I wanted to kiss her. This woman had turned me into someone I didn't know—someone reckless.

  "I can't lose my career. Not for anyone. Not for a woman," I muttered to myself as I walked through my front door.

  I threw my keys and wallet on a side table and made my way to the bathroom, turning on the shower to the hottest setting. I needed to get her out of my mind and fill the space with someone more appropriate. Sophia. Sophia was beautiful, accomplished, available, and very interested in me. She would be the perfect distraction from Cher.

  Undressing, I stepped through the steam of the shower, hoping the water would wash away my longing.

  THIS IS IT

  CHER

  Darkness had set in, and the street lights had begun to flicker on. I grabbed my keys and took one last look in the mirror, running my fingers through my straightened hair, taming all the flyaways. I couldn't remember the last time I wore mascara and eyeliner, but there they were, making me look like a whole other woman—a slightly more confident woman.

  "Here goes nothing," I murmured as I walked out the door.

  Passing the building which held Mr. Donovan's class, the butterflies in my stomach began to flutter. Even the building was enough to get me going.

  No, no, no. Reese. Reese is my date. Focus.

  I made my way to the stadium and stood in the extensive line to purchase a ticket. While I waited, I saw Reese leaning up against the gated entrance, texting on his phone. I hoped he would look up so he could rescue me from the never-ending line, but he didn't. Instead, he continued to smile and text, text and smile.

  Must be a funny conversation.

  The line moved a little then, a few minutes later, a little more. After about ten minutes of inching my way up to the booth, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  "Hey, beautiful," Reese said with a smile.

  "Hi," I replied, slightly annoyed.

  "Come with me. You're VIP tonight." He clasped his hand onto mine.

  Leading me through the gate, he walked me to the very first row of seats, which had been cordoned off from the rest of the stadium. The signs posted around the small area had the letters VIP printed across in bold, black lettering.

  "See, VIP," he boasted, looking rather pleased with himself.

  "I see."

  He motioned for me to take a seat as he waved at someone on the field. "The coach's calling me. Are you going to be okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm great."

  "Well, I'll meet you in the parking lot after the game," he said, leaning over to give me a peck on the cheek.

  I backed away from his advance. Not having been kissed before, I certainly wasn't going to waste it on a quick, meaningless peck in front of hundreds of people.

  "I'm sorry, I—"

  He smiled. "I get it. After the game then?"

  "Yes, the parking lot. I'll be there," I told him, tightly clutching onto my keys.

  He straightened his posture and jogged out onto the field—the crowd roaring loudly at the mere sight of him. He turned back and waved at them like a celebrity accepting an award. I never knew how popular he'd become.

  A cold chill whisked past me, followed by the sound of a hyena laughing. My eyes darted to my right, where I caught sight of Mr. Donovan and the woman from the day before walking next to him.

  Fuck me.

  Quickly, I shifted my gaze down to my twiddling thumbs, hoping he hadn't seen me.

  "Cher," he called out.

  I could feel them standing right in front of me, waiting for me to acknowledge them.

  "Cher," he repeated.

  Fuck me, a lot.

  I trailed up his dark jean pants to the soft, gray cardigan covering his, undoubtedly, perfect body.

  I put on my best fake smile. "Mr. Donovan, how are you?"

  The corners of his lips turned up, almost as if he were fighting back a smile. "This is Sophia—Ms. Casey—Ms. Sophia Casey, I mean."

  She stretched her arm toward me, holding out her perfectly manicured nails. "Pleasure to meet you. Cher, was it?"

  I nodded. "Ms. Casey."

  "Are you a student of Mr. Donovan's?"

  I nodded again. Even her teeth were perfect. I couldn't hold a candle to this woman's beauty.

  She pointed to the empty seats next to me. "Are these taken?"

  Goddammit.

  I looked down at the seats, wondering what tale I could spin or lie I could spew so they wouldn't sit there. I had nothing—not a damn thing.

  "No, they're empty."

  She tugged at his arm. "Oh, good."

  Our eyes locked, and the furrow in his brow screamed frustration. He took the seat next to me, his jeans touching mine, our hands only inches apart. I struggled to fight back the urge to slide my fingers over and touch his.

  I could hear her whispering sweet nothings into his ear and tried my best not to pay attention, but curiosity was my enemy at that point—well—curiosity and jealousy.

  Frankly, I wanted to scratch her eyes out and fling her across the field as far away from him as possible, but I was a lady. A jealous ass lady, but a lady nonetheless.

  Ms. Casey stood from her seat. "I have to go to the ladies room. I'll be back. Keep him company, Cher?"

  "Of course." I smiled anxiously as I watched her saunter away.

  The sway of her hips was all for show; no woman walked that way in real life—especially in those heels on hard pavement.

  I turned back to the field where the marching band was playing the school song. The crowd cheered wildly behind us.

  "VIP, huh?" he asked, staring straight forward.

  "Ms. Casey, huh?" I asked with my eyes fixed on a pom pom lying on the sidelines.

  "She's a friend."

  "Right."

  "Why do you care? I thought you had a date."

  "I don't care, and I do have a date."

  "He must be important for you to be sitting here. Who is he?"

  "Does it matter?"

  REGAN

  "No, It doesn't," I said, squeezing my leg to keep my jealousy at bay.

  "Then why ask?"

  "Just trying to make conversation."

  "Looks like you have Sophia for that," she sassed.

  "Why do you always have to give me an—"

  "Boy, that line," Sophia interrupted, sitting down next to me.

  "Excuse me, I have to go to the ladies room as well," Cher spoke around me to Sophia.

  "Oh, okay. We'll watch your seat." Sophia smiled as she snaked her arm around mine.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Cher had seen what Sophia had done, and her glare said it all. She was angry, but I suppose I would be too if her date had been draped over her like a woolen throw blanket.

  I watched as she disappeared into the crowd while Sophia continued to whisper in my ear about much of nothing. I turned back to the field, watching the marching band move to and fro, waving their instruments about in unison.

  Every second she was gone felt like minutes, and every minute felt like hours. How long was that damn line? Then it struck me—what if she'd left? I turned to Sophia, whose smile had risen to the level of creepy.

  "I'm going to run to the concession stand before the game starts. Do you want anything?"

  She shook her head. "No, none of that processed stuff for me, thanks."

  "I'll be right back." I stood and rushed through the hyped crowd toward the bathrooms,
hoping Cher was still in line.

  But when I reached the small gray building, there was no longer a line, in fact, the whole area was deserted.

  Where in the hell could she have gone? I turned to walk back to my seat when I caught sight of her, leaning against the fence underneath the bleachers. I looked around to see if anyone was around, but everyone was too focused on the game.

  Making my way over to her, I noticed she was staring at a locket.

  "What's in the locket?"

  Startled, she shut the gold, oval trinket—her eyes wide with fear.

  "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just worried since you'd been gone so long."

  "Worried? Why would you worry about me? You don't even know me."

  "And you don't know me, but that doesn't stop you from reading me the riot act."

  "Gonna start already?"

  "No, I don't wanna fight. There's just something about you, Cher. Something I've never seen in anyone else—something I've never felt with anyone else."

  "What about Ms. Casey?"

  "Really? Sophia? She's nice, but she's not you."

  "You keep saying these things like we're old friends. Stop it."

  I inched toward her. "Stop what?"

  "Stop confusing me."

  I took another step forward, and then another until I was only inches from her. My jeans tightened in response to the curves of her hips—the smell of her skin. "Confused how?" I whispered, taking one last step, pressing my body against hers.

  She looked up to me. Her eyes were just as entrancing as the day I met her—as captivating as the night under the streetlight.

  "Mr. Donovan, I—"

  I could feel her heart pounding against my chest as she spoke. Pressing my palm against the nape of her neck, I pulled her toward me. The electricity between our lips—wrought with sexual tension—made me want to rip her clothes off and make her mine. What I was doing was wrong. It went against every code of conduct I had signed when I took this job, but I couldn't fight my urge any longer. She was too tempting. Too beautiful. Too perfect not to taste. I'd never known how hungry I was for a simple kiss until her.

  I grazed my bottom lip on hers, but she pulled away, piercing me with her deep blue eyes as if she were searching for answers in my gaze. And I let her. I was willing to invite her into places I'd never allowed another woman access to—all for a feeling. We hadn't shared anything tangible. There was no real relationship to speak of. There was only a nagging feeling that we fit together somehow.