by Alex Wolf
Kristen crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. She let out an obvious sigh, making it a point to look unimpressed.
“First day?” He grinned. Apparently, he liked what he saw.
She tilted her head to the side. “Obviously.”
He laughed. “Go around the corner. First door on the left.” He pointed in the general direction.
She took off.
“Better hurry. Not cool to be late, freshman. Even if you’re hot.”
As she rounded the corner, she couldn’t help but think how annoying college guys would be. She had no intention of hooking up with any of the boys on campus, and that’s what they were—boys. Nothing would jeopardize her future. The last thing she needed was to get involved with some jock who might knock her up and vanish.
She intended to have fun, but she wasn’t about to fuck the first guy she saw in the hall to accomplish the goal. The dude was cute, but she shuddered a little at the fact he stared at her tits before answering her question.
Asshole.
She reached the door to her class and paused for a deep breath.
This is it.
She shoved the door open and walked into the room. Aspirations of being a journalist meant this would be one of her most important classes. That’s why she scheduled it first thing in the morning. Normally, she was a morning person and got most of her work done before lunch.
If things had gone according to plan, she’d have been there an hour early, not hauling ass at the last second.
Get your shit together, Kristen.
She kept her head down and hurried to a seat in the back. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe the professor wouldn’t even notice her. She was there now, and if he did catch her, she’d just apologize and tell him it wouldn’t happen again.
There was only one problem.
The door made a god-awful squeak that echoed off the walls, and it closed with a loud clank before suctioning shut. All of this before she’d even found her seat.
Shit.
Everyone in the damn class turned and stared. She didn’t care what her classmates thought. It was none of their damn business. At least she made it to class at all, which she was sure would be a chore for some students.
Fortunately, the professor had his back to her. She breathed a sigh of relief, until he stopped writing on the board. Kristen kept her eyes on the floor as she slinked through the back of the room. She took a seat in the last row and avoided all the stares as if nothing had happened.
The chair was like nails on a chalkboard against the tiled floor when she pulled it out. She winced.
Son of a bitch.
Everyone stopped what they were doing, even the professor, as if time had suddenly stood still and she was the only one moving. It wasn’t until the room was completely silent again that the professor resumed teaching.
His voice boomed when he spoke. “As I was saying, the most important thing you can know as a journalist—” He turned around and glared at Kristen, but her head was angled down toward the desk.
She could see him in her peripheral vision and practically feel the heat of his gaze on the top of her head.
“Is that you have to be on time.” He turned back and scribbled on a dry-erase board while he continued. “If there’s a story, the sooner you get it into the public’s hands, the better. Good journalists don’t just get a story, they get it first.”
Her cheeks burned and heat rushed into her face.
Maybe he’d been talking about being on time before she’d walked through the door, she thought. She could hope anyway.
“What does that have to do with those of us who aren’t going to be journalists?” another student asked.
“Punctuality will serve you well in life, regardless of your field of practice. You will learn plenty of principles in this class that will prepare you for the world. Keep an open mind, and you may be surprised where you end up.”
Kristen kept her eyes trained on the syllabus someone had passed her. She was uncertain how much of the lecture had to do with her or if she was being paranoid.
Even though she’d shown up to the class late, she still felt it dragged on for the rest of the period. Maybe it was the fact she wanted to speak with the professor about being late—set things straight—or maybe she didn’t find Intro to Journalism as interesting as she’d thought it’d be.
Either way, seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into an hour. She just wanted out of the class and back to her dorm room. She silently prayed that interaction would be minimal the first day, and she could start over new tomorrow.
Finally, class came to an end, and the professor dismissed them. Kristen had stared down the entire time and pretended to take notes, afraid to look up again, worried her professor would notice her bloodshot eyes. Now that it’d ended, Kristen decided she’d face her fear. Walk up and apologize for being late and assure him it wouldn’t happen again. It was the adult thing to do, and she was in college now.
After a few stragglers made their way to the door, she headed up to his desk.
“Excuse me, professor.”
Her heart thumped in her chest, and she could still feel it beating in her head. Kristen had always dealt with anxiety to some extent, and now that she stood in front of her professor, she worried he might take off points for being late.
“I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to be late. My alarm didn’t go off. I got here as soon as I could.” Her chest constricted, and she thought she might be having a heart attack.
“I’m not interested in excuses.”
She looked away. She hadn’t meant to make excuses. In fact, in her mind it wasn’t an excuse, just a reason. How did he not understand that? It was the first day. She’d never been there before. She could’ve been lost. Maybe she misjudged the distance to the building. It wasn’t true, but he didn’t know that.
“Well, I just wanted you to know it won’t happen again.” She forced a smile.
He still hadn’t looked at her, and she worried he wasn’t listening.
“This class is absolutely a priority for me. You don’t have to worry about this again.”
God, you already said that. Just go. You sound like an idiot.
“It’s not me who has to worry. And if it’s a priority, where were you this morning?” He finally looked up from his desk.
She started to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Her breath hitched. She noticed his eyes first—icy blues that seared into her. Her mind went blank, and words refused to form in her brain.
He was by far the most attractive man she’d ever seen.
He let out an exasperated sigh. “You won’t be penalized this time. Don’t let it happen again.”
Kristen clutched her books to her chest as she walked back to her room. She noticed other students staring, and a few even greeted her as she passed. Nothing registered, though. She couldn’t get her professor out of her mind.
Professor Grant Wiseman was the hottest man she’d ever met in her life. It made the whole situation worse.
She knew he was smart, and it was probably easy for him to deduce that she was hungover. If her eyes didn’t give it away, she probably still reeked of booze.
She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Maybe then she’d be able to get the professor out of her head. Grant was tall, even when sitting down. He looked in his late thirties. His hair was jet black with dashes of silver mixed in—salt and pepper. He kept the sides trimmed low, and the longer hair on top slicked back. And, Jesus—the glasses. He wore dark-framed spectacles that were the sexiest pair she’d ever seen, coupled with the icy-blue irises that sat behind them.
He clearly worked out, the way he filled his dress shirt, and despite being quite a bit older than her, he was still lean and fit. There had to be some story behind him teaching journalism at California State University, and she wanted to know what it was. During their interaction, she’d forced her mind to think of anything other t
han his body, and by the time they’d finished their little talk, she could barely recall any of the conversation.
All she’d taken away was she’d gotten off with a warning. She wouldn’t mind getting off with more than that in the presence of the hot professor. She’d rushed from the room shortly after. The last thing she wanted was to make the situation any worse than it already was, and she knew she was on thin ice. Professor Wiseman didn’t seem like the kind of man who allowed his students to be late, ever.
There would definitely be no shortcuts in his class.
“How’d it go?” Stefani, her roommate, turned to Kristen as she walked through the door of their room.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Kristen knew it wasn’t Stef’s job to get her out of bed, but she also knew she was probably up around the same time.
“I didn’t know you had class. You were out late. I figured you had afternoon classes today.” Stefani shrugged. “Sorry.”
Kristen sighed and threw her books on the bed, then sat down in a chair, rubbing her temples. “I was thirty minutes late, and the class is only an hour and a half.”
“Sorry. If I’d known, I would’ve given you a good shake.” Stef typed something out on her laptop as she spoke, then turned to look at Kristen. “How you feeling?”
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault I’m an idiot.” Kristen sighed. “I feel like shit. Hungover. And get this. I had the hottest professor of all time.”
Stefani spun around in her chair. “Really? Tell me more.”
Kristen nodded and told Stef everything that happened on the way into class.
“Well, just be on time from now on. Shouldn’t be a big deal. He’ll notice you putting in the effort. Everyone makes mistakes.”
She smiled at Stef doing her best to cheer her up. “Thanks.”
Judging by Stef’s cheery demeanor, there was no doubt her day had gone far better.
Oh well, there was nothing she could do about it now. She grabbed her books and climbed onto her bed to take care of her homework.
Daydreams of Professor Wiseman quickly invaded her thoughts and took over. Different scenarios and how she’d affected his opinion of her played through her mind. She overanalyzed everything, and often dwelled on the tiniest details and actions.
How could a man like that end up at a school like this? Was he really pissed at her for being late? And then there was the most important question, what did he think of her?
~
“You’re up. Good. I was about to start jumping on your bed.” Stefani finished a bowl of cereal and stared over at Kristen, who was sitting up in her bed.
Kristen had set several alarms the night before, bound and determined to get up on time. After Wiseman’s class, and the entire next day, she’d made it a point to not be late again.
“Thanks, but no way was I going to be late twice in a row.” She shook her head and snickered. Her nerves had kept her up most of the night. She was worried she’d sleep through her alarm again.
“Good luck.” Stef headed out the door.
Kristen threw the blanket off her legs.
Since she was up on time, she could be a bit more selective in choosing an outfit.
She flipped through her closet, trying to decide what to wear. Normally, she’d just grab something comfortable, more concerned about what she was going to do with herself that day than how she looked while she did it. That was before she had someone to impress. Today, Kristen only had one thing on her mind that seemed to guide her wardrobe selection.
Professor Wiseman.
She wanted something that would get the professor’s attention and show off her tightly toned body.
She wasn’t sure why she was dressing up for him, but she couldn’t help herself. She settled on a pink mini skirt. It was cotton and barely covered her ass. It definitely highlighted every curve and left little to the imagination. Her father had hated the skirt, and more than once sent her back to her room when she’d tried to go out in it, but like every teenager, she’d insisted on keeping it. She hid it from him and wore it only when she knew he wouldn’t find out.
She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it to college with her because she had no intention of ever wearing it. But she now found herself grateful that she did. Pairing it with a tight tank top, she figured it was enough to make the professor drool a little.
Instead of pulling her hair up into a bun again, she took the time to put curls in it, then finished her look with some eyeliner and mascara. With each stroke of the brush, she thought more and more about Professor Wiseman and what he would think when she walked into the room.
Once she approved of herself in the mirror, she grabbed her things and headed out of the dorm.
There was plenty of time to get to class, but it was difficult to hold herself down to a casual walk. Her heart thumped with each step toward the building, but this time without the headache and nausea.
She was enjoying the little fantasy in her mind when she entered the classroom and what he would think of her outfit when he noticed. He probably wouldn’t say anything at all, but then again, he wouldn’t have to. Those icy blues would tell her everything she wanted to know.
In the corner of her eye, she could see guys gawking as she passed. She smiled to herself and put a little sway into her hips as she continued toward the building, knowing with each step she took they all fantasized about what they’d like to do to her.
When she finally got to class, she once again hesitated and took a deep breath before walking inside.
Why was she so damn nervous? He was just a man.
Unlike the last time she was in the class, she didn’t avoid eye contact with anyone. Kristen squared her shoulders and strode through the door, smiling at the boys who dared to look her way. Kristen had never lacked confidence, and it only grew when she saw the way the other students reacted.
When she was in high school, she’d deliberately do things to draw attention to herself, and now that she was in college, she didn’t plan to change.
The only person she didn’t make eye contact with was Professor Wiseman. Her palms grew slick as she walked across the room, purposefully taking her seat at the front. When she sat down, she looked up at him with a broad smile.
The second his eyes met hers, he quickly looked away.
A little thrill of triumph ran through her body and landed between her legs.
He cleared his throat and gathered the papers on his desk. It seemed he had a difficult time keeping his attention on his work instead of staring at her. Each time he’d glance over to the class, he’d make it a point to not look at her, and each time he did have to look at her, he stared directly into her eyes.
She smiled once more after class let out. “Made it on time, professor.”
He glanced up and locked eyes with her, not daring to look down at her body.
“Are you looking for a pat on the back for being on time?” His attention moved back to the papers in front of him. His voice was harsh and cold.
“No, sir. Just making conversation.”
What an asshole.
He still hadn’t tried to check her out, either. What the hell?
She rose from her seat and made a show of bending over right in front of him to pick up her books. The cool air tickled the backs of her thighs, and she knew her panties were alarmingly close to being visible. She wondered if she made his cock thick and hard under the desk.
Kristen wanted to glance back and watch his reaction, but it’d be too obvious. She purposely fumbled around with something in one of the books, so that she could linger a bit more. He’d definitely be jerking off to her later.
When she stood, he pretended to ignore her.
“See you Friday.” She walked toward the door.
She desperately wanted to stay and chat, see how uncomfortable she could make him, but she didn’t have any questions about the class, and she wanted to remain a mystery. Everything had gone perfect, and she didn’t want
to ruin it. She’d leave and go back to the dorm before her next class, but it was impossible to get him out of her mind.
She was the last one out the door, and she swore she’d heard a groan right before the door closed.
She was obsessed.
It was going to be a long semester.
Grant breathed a sigh of content when he walked through his front door. It’d been a long fucking day. The beginning of the semester was always hard, especially in the fall. Most of the kids were more focused on their social lives than they were with class, and it was like pulling teeth to keep their attention.
Kristen Monroe.
Jesus.
He’d dealt with female students like her in the past. The whole professor and student fantasy was a popular one, and plenty of students had been smitten with him before.
But there was something about Kristen.
Fuck.
How he’d kept from staring at her in that short little skirt he wasn’t sure. From the first moment she’d walked into his class, he’d definitely noticed her. She’d kept her eyes down the entire period the first day. When they finally made eye contact, he was practically dead in the water.
She was the most gorgeous student he’d ever seen by far. Her long, delicate legs and high, firm tits. He bit back a groan just thinking about her. A pang of guilt hammered his stomach. He was damn near old enough to be her father. When she’d bent over in front of his desk, his cock was so fucking hard it took everything he had not to snap the pen in his hand. He knew female students often found him attractive, and even some of the males.
He shook his head at himself in the mirror.
Get your shit together.
He couldn’t afford to act on her obvious advances. Maybe she was just trying to get him back for giving her shit about being late the first day. She might lure him into a compromising position and threaten to get him fired. Use it as leverage. He’d dealt with plenty of devious students before who didn’t like his rigid classroom structure or thought they could seduce their way into a passing grade.
There was no way he would fuck a student—especially one half his age. He had to push that idea far away. He was a man of authority, of power. There were serious ethical implications.
