“I’m really sorry, professor.” She smiled again.
“We’ll continue this lecture on Thursday. If I discover that any single one of you has failed to prepare for my class, I will mark everyone down half a letter grade.”
The students erupted in complaints. I didn’t care. I wanted them gone. I couldn’t rip my gaze away from what was mine. She let her leg loll a little farther to the side, giving me an even better view of her pussy. I licked my lips.
“Out! All of you!”
The students packed up, stowing their books and laptops before grumbling their way out of the room. She stood, as if leaving right along with them. I cursed her for taking away such a captivating sight. But I would get a better view. One that was much, much closer. She’d finally driven me over the edge. Today was the day she would find out just how far I would go to give her the discipline she so sorely needed.
Chapter Two
Zoey Finnegan
“Not you, Ms. Finnegan,” Professor Stevens called. His voice was thick with tension. He was focused on me, his blue eyes forcing me back down into my seat.
I’d really pissed him off this time. He ran a hand through his dark hair. He needed a cut. He usually kept it just long enough to tickle the sides of his ears. Now it had gotten a bit shaggier. The locks curled around his shirt collar and fell into his face. It made him look younger, though he was only thirty-five, according to his faculty profile.
He was classically handsome. All the girls in the law school drooled over Professor Stevens, masturbating to him every night and making googoo eyes at him in class. His façade of cool impenetrability never faltered. He treated all students equally. Equally badly, anyway.
But the girls still talked and dreamed, even though Professor Stevens was married. Even though he was cold, untouchable. He followed every rule to the letter and dominated his classrooms with an iron fist. That’s what made my tardiness so much worse.
I looked at my watch. My next class started in fifteen minutes. I hoped he wouldn’t lecture me for too long. But gauging by the fire in his eyes, I assumed it was going to be quite a tongue-lashing.
When the final student cleared out, Professor Stevens bade me come closer and speak with him. I rose and made my way down the risers before walking to him and perching against the desk near the podium.
“I’m really sorry, professor. I just had a lot of other things to do so I—”
“You said it was car trouble, Ms. Finnegan.” His back was still to me.
Busted. “I, it was, I just um …”
“It doesn’t matter now anyway. Lock the door.” His voice was a low growl.
“What?” A shiver went down my spine.
“Lock—the—door.” He turned to look at me and his eyes bored into mine.
I followed his command, not wanting to get into any more trouble. I clicked the deadbolt over.
“Come here.” His voice was a stark command.
Shit. I was in big trouble. I returned to him. I glanced back over my shoulder at the locked door before looking at him. He hadn’t moved from the podium, his posture rigid. His broad back strained against the fabric of his dress shirt, all the muscles drawn tight.
I twiddled my long hair. “Professor, the next class starts in here in ten minutes, you know. Students will be trying to get in. Maybe we should walk over to your office or something?”
“No.” He took off his clark kent glasses and carefully set them on the podium.
He reached up and loosened his tie before unknotting it entirely. He opened his top two buttons so I could see the dark hair along his upper chest. “Professor Rains is sick. Her class is canceled. No one will be in here again until tomorrow.”
He whipped his tie from around his neck and wrapped it around one of his hands.
Fear rushed through me. “I-I- should go.”
“You aren’t going anywhere, Ms. Finnegan. Put your palms on the desk.”
“What?”
He looked up, irritation and some other emotion rolling off him in waves, his Adam’s apple protruding as he did so. I realized how large he was, maybe six foot five and fit, strong. He turned toward me. I let out a choked gasp when I saw his rigid length outlined against the front of his pants.
He sighed. “I’m not going to ask nicely again, Ms. Finnegan.”
I darted a glance to the door and took a step. That was as far as I got. His hands, large and hot, gripped my arms and wrenched them behind me. I cried out but he slapped a hand over my mouth. “If you scream, I’ll gag you. And then I’ll make this hurt. Understand?”
His grip on my arm and mouth tightened until I nodded.