Page 23 of The Professor's Indecent Obsession

Steady. Solid. Mine.

The future unfurls before us like an open book.

And I can’t wait to write every page.

Epilogue

Roman

Eight months later:

The last creative writing class of the semester wraps with the usual shuffle of backpacks and half-muttered goodbyes. Students move down the aisles of the lecture hall, each one dropping a final assignment on the desk in front of me before making their escape.

I offer the same quiet “Thank you” to each of them, nodding like the picture of professional composure.

Crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled, ink on my knuckles from where my pen exploded earlier. Classic. Predictable.

Until her.

She appears at the very end of the line, waddling just a little beneath the weight of the baby she’s about to bring into this world. My baby. Our baby.

Callie’s wearing a fitted black dress that hugs every curve she used to be shy about, her belly round and heavy, her breasts full and luscious. Her hair’s in a braid over one shoulder. Her engagement ring catches the overhead lights like a flashgrenade, and she does nothing to hide it. It’s like she’s proud of it. Of me. Of us.

I can’t even speak when she steps up and places her paper on the stack. Instead of turning away, she leans in just a little, mischief glowing in her eyes like a lit match.

“Enjoy this one, professor.”

She grins and walks away with a slow, deliberate sway of her hips that makes my pulse throb in my neck.

I sit there, jaw tight, trying not to make a sound as every part of me wakes up.

Fuck.

Even after eight months with her in my life, I still can’t believe I’ve been so lucky. We found out she was pregnant less than a month after I made her mine, and I’d dropped straight to my knee and asked her to marry me. I’d had the ring for two weeks before that, and I’d only been waiting for the perfect time to give it to her.

No time had been more perfect than the moment when she’d come out of the bathroom, her face streaked with happy tears while her smile lit up her face, telling me that a part of me had already taken root inside her.

Of course, she’d said yes without hesitation.

Now she lives with me, her first book about to hit the shelves. It’s blown up already, with many reviewers calling it the most anticipated debut of the century. My woman is going to be a fucking huge success and I can’t wait to see it.

And as soon as the semester ends, and our baby has arrived, we’re flying out to see her family. Getting married there. Just like she always wanted.

It’ll be small. Intimate. And absolutely perfect.

And we haven’t heard another word from Gideon Marks after he agreed to pay Callie a huge sum of money in an out of court settlement. Hopefully the fucker has learned his lesson andwon’t try that again, but just in case, I’ve made sure to spread the word about him far and wide in the publishing world.

I reach for the stack of papers, still half-lost in thoughts of Callie. But I can’t resist glancing down at the top sheet, smiling to myself when I see her familiar handwriting.

The title catches my attention instantly: Extra Credit.

I blink slowly, then start reading.

The first paragraph alone is enough to make my grip on the paper tighten. By the end of the second, my dick is painfully hard.

There is no mistaking who this story is about, even though she hasn’t used names. It’s us. In explicit detail.

Jesus.

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