Page 9 of Detention with Daddies

“I expect you to show up, do the work, and question everything—especially me.” He claps his hands together, rubbing them. “Ready to get started?”

He’s at the board in a few steps, writing a simple equation on it:Stress + Recovery = Growth. Then, he circles the plus sign and says, “This is where most people fail. Let’s talk about why.”

I like how he emphasizes recovery over the tendency to push too hard to gain results. It’s something I have to remember as I guide my own test subjects.

Overall, the class is entertaining, even though he’s different in professor mode. Professional. Distant but approachable. Yet, still confident and smooth like he was when we met at the center.

He engages easily with every student in class, and I can already tell he won’t let anyone get away without participating. At least a little bit.

It’s not hard to pay attention to him. I have four pages of notes by the time he’s done. Before he dismisses us, the version of him I met at the center flashes in his eyes when he spots the scribbles in my notebook.

He claps his hands together again and addresses the room. “Come ready to sweat next week.”

The smile Salazar offers us is charming and mischievous.

“You’re dismissed.”

Shuffling fills the room as everyone packs up their bags. Energy prickles down my spine when he taps my desk.

“Miss Lawless. If you don’t mind staying behind for a moment.”

NICK

Having Olivia in my class…is both a blessing and a curse.

My initial attraction to her only grows as I watch her take thoughtful notes, smile at my nerdy jokes, and bite her lip. And that big breath she took, it had the naughtiest thoughts swirling in my head.

Just like now. I tapped her desk and asked her to stay behind, and she’s taking her time packing up as the other students file out.

She’s dressed in a smart top that shows just enough of her skin, a triangle of chest that dips tastefully along an inch of her cleavage. The freckles there. They’re calling to me. I want to spread my mouth across her flesh. To see if she tastes as good as I’ve been imagining this last week.

To see if that top is as silky as it looks.

God, I want to touch her.

Olivia doesn’t stand until the small lecture hall is nearly empty, and her approach is slow. Those sleek slacks do her all sorts of favors.

She cocks a hip to the side and crosses her arms under her ample chest as if she can read my thoughts. I’m certainly not trying hard enough to hide them.

“Yes, Professor Salazar?”

“Nick,” I insist. I don’t want my being her professor to break the rapport we had before. The teasing, wanting one. She already knows I’m attracted to her. Does the rest really matter?

Her mouth quirks to the side. “I’m not sure about that.”

Shit, her resistance to be familiar with me shouldn’t be so appealing. I smile at her. Small. Intimate. Knowing. “We’ll work our way back there then.”

She shifts, lifting her brow in a silent question of why I’ve asked her to stay.

“Are you headed to the center?”

Olivia tilts her head to the side, analyzing me. “I am.”

She draws the two words out like she doesn’t already know where I’m going with this. She’s far too smart for that. I hold her gaze, testing her resolve. Olivia has no give.

“Did you need a ride?” Because being closed up in my Jeep together might be the start of something that seems inevitable.

Her plump mouth quirks to the side again, and the way she gives me a once-over—for what, the fourth time now?—and blinks slowly.

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