I wait on a bench outside of the classroom until the double doors open, and a crowd storms out just to prove her wrong. To prove a point to Sam and to myself. I can pass this class on my own as long as I make it here on time for the rest of the semester.
Students are chatting and laughing as they emerge from the room making their way down the already packed hallway. I’m so irritated I don’t even wave to the people I know, more concerned about getting my grades in order.
Once the last person shuffles up the long aisle and out the door, I stroll into the classroom and down the center aisle where I find Sam sitting behind her desk. Like last time, she has her head down and focused on whatever she’s writing in a notebook.
“Can I help you?” Her voice is soft but the anger is still present.
I bend down to meet her height. “I need to make up the quiz I missed.”
She glances up from her book, her lips slightly parted, her hair somewhat messy and falling in front of her eyes. “You’ll have to take it during my office hours. Make an appointment.” Sam shoves her hair behind her ears and shuts her book, clutching the leather in her hand.
“And how do I do that?”
“On Strick Net, of course. That’s where you can find my availability.”
I lean forward, our lips close to touching before she slides her chair back. “I’m ready now.”
Her eyes shift to the back of the room, lingering there for a few seconds before she turns and looks at me again. “Who said I have time… for you?”
She makes me so angry and so turned on all at the same time. It’s a weird feeling, one I’m starting to like. “Make time,” I whisper. “I can be very convincing.”
Shocked, she gasps. Her hand reflexively clamps over her mouth as she stares at me. But I don’t miss the fact she’s slapped her legs together. She wants me as much as I want her.
“You want a repeat.” I stare her down, honing in on her every movement she makes. “Is that it?”
Sam swivels her chair, and before she can get up, I slap a palm down on her knee to keep her in place. From my sudden gesture, the pen she’s holding falls to the floor and lands between her legs—right where I want to be.
Bending down on one knee, I clasp the pen and hand it to her with a mischievous grin. She takes it from me as my eyes travel up her bare legs. I slide my hand along her soft skin taking my time as I feel my way up the inseam of her thigh.
She sucks in a deep breath, and when she lets it out, a quiet moan escapes her lips. “Stop it, Tucker,” she whispers, but her body and how it responds to me say otherwise.
I stand, and she shoves her skirt down her thighs. “Like I said earlier…” she clears her throat, “… make an appointment with me. My calendar is online.”
I wink. “See you then.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sam
Is Tucker right about me? I think so. Having his attention again after all these years has sparked something inside me. Desire, maybe? But isn’t that a natural reaction to have to a man like Tucker? Any woman with a pulse would feel even the slightest amount of attraction to him. Right?
I’m so messed up. Daddy issues, my therapist would tell me. Dr. Carson said I seek male approval because I never got it from my father.
Tucker’s wrong for me.
On every level.
Now I’m his TA. I shouldn’t even be thinking about him this way.
He’s just another student, I lie to myself.
Yeah, right. Not to me. He’s the cocky asshole who took my virginity. You never forget your first. And Tucker sure as hell was memorable.
Flipping through the papers on Professor Frazier’s desk, I skim the quizzes I’ve already graded. Tucker is my last appointment of the afternoon, the last paper I need to mark. Leaning back in the leather chair, I let out a breath of air and stare up at the ceiling for a second attempting to relax. My nerves are shot, my fingers trembling, anxiety bubbling up in my chest.
Between the stress of juggling multiple jobs, school, and my dad, I can’t handle another headache.
Tucker will push my limits. I know he will. The carnal look in his eyes on Monday told me so. He wants me. I still want him. In all honesty, I probably never stopped.
I was in shock for hours after he touched my thigh in Professor Frazier’s classroom. He was so forward, making his intentions known. Or at the very least trying to con me into bending to his will.
I’m the straitlaced girl who studies hard, gets good grades, and is the teacher’s pet. I earned the teaching assistant position, and I know Tucker will try to jeopardize my role. He has to get his way no matter the cost. Guys like him don’t understand the meaning of no.