Page 50 of The Naughty Professor
Jax.Oh, Felix.Jax was Felix’s stage persona.
The other side of the bed was empty.The sheets were still warm, the pillow indented, and my first thought—irrational and instant—was that he’d left me.My second thought was, of course he didn’t.Felix probably had to go teach class.
It had been four lonely years since Mark and I had split up.Four years of gray mornings and quiet nights, of telling myself I didn’t need anyone.Then Felix had come along.Shy, brilliant, too polite for his own good—and somehow he’d cracked the walls I thought were permanent.
I never would’ve guessed he spent his nights dancing on stage for cash, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.He probably needed extra money, and Lord knows he probably had to keep his gig as an erotic dancer on the down low.Who knows how the higher-ups at VCU would react if they knew about it.
I sat up, rubbing a hand through my hair, half expecting to find glitter there too.The pillow still sparkled faintly.His belt lay coiled on the floor, a strip of dark leather that looked almost intentional, like he’d left it behind on purpose.
I grinned, ridiculous and giddy.
Felix had driven me absolutely mad.Not just with his body, but with the way he looked at me, like I was the only person in the world who mattered.It had been raw and unguarded and so real it still made my chest tighten.
That wasn’t something you could fake.
I glanced at the clock.Almost nine.He probably didn’t want to wake me, so he’d crept out quietly.The man was pathologically considerate.
God, I was ridiculous.One night of good sex and suddenly I was a teenager again, reading too much into everything.But I couldn’t help it.After years of stillness, I finally felt alive.
I leaned back against the headboard and let the memory of his mouth flicker through me—heat, laughter, the way he’d whispered my name.Maybe this could be something.Maybe, for once, I didn’t need to overthink it.
I’d always assumed Felix’s hesitation around me was professional—two professors at the same university, both cautious about gossip.But now I saw it differently.That shyness wasn’t because of a lack of interest.It was restraint.And last night, that restraint had burned away.
I laughed under my breath, feeling warmth spread through my chest.It had been so long since I’d felt light like this, since I’d woken up actually looking forward to the day.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stretched until my shoulders popped.My body reminded me of what we’d done—the ache in my hips, and the slight burn around my mouth.Jax had been wild and hungry, but beneath it all it had been Felix.
I picked up his belt, ran a thumb along the worn leather, and draped it neatly over the chair.“You’ll need this back, Professor Sterling,” I murmured, still smiling.
Maybe I’d give it to him later today, after his last class.The thought made my stomach flip—nervous, hopeful.Vulnerability felt almost sweet again.After Mark, I’d promised myself not to rely on anyone for comfort.I’d built routines instead of relationships, filled my days with grading papers and a little too much bourbon at night.
But Felix had slipped through the cracks.
He’d wandered into my life with awkward smiles and self-deprecating humor, and now here he was, leaving glitter on my sheets and a welcome ache when I moved.
I went to the window and tugged the blinds open wider.The city outside gleamed—bright and alive.I could almost picture him teaching a class, completely unaware of the effect he’d left on me.
The thought made me smile.It had been so long since anything—or anyone—had made me feel this way.My chest felt loose, light, like something had finally unclenched after years of holding tight.
I turned away from the window and stretched, letting the sun soak into my skin.Maybe I’d see him between classes, or later.I’d act casual, maybe even tease him about leaving his belt.Nothing heavy.Just… something real.
The idea made me chuckle to myself.I’d forgotten what anticipation felt like—this flutter that wasn’t quite anxiety, wasn’t quite joy, but something wonderfully alive in between.I imagined the look on Felix’s face when our eyes met across campus later.Whatever this was—whatever it could be—I wanted to see where it went.
* * *
“Alright, that’s all for today,” I said, clapping my hands once as my students began packing up.“Your essays on Aristotle are due Thursday, not Friday.I repeat—Thursday.Procrastination is not a philosophical virtue.”
A few groans answered me, followed by the usual shuffle of papers and the zipping of backpacks.
“See you later, Professor Carr,” one of the students said as she passed my desk.Then she smiled.“You seem… chipper today.”
“Chipper?”I repeated, feigning offense.“I prefer ‘philosophically content.’”
She laughed and disappeared into the hallway with the others.
When the last of them filed out, I closed the classroom door and let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.Maybe she was right.Maybe I was chipper.I hadn’t felt this light in years.
I walked to the small office tucked in the back of the classroom, flicked on the overhead light, and sank into the chair behind my desk.I reached over and switched on the old desktop computer, which hummed awake at its usual glacial speed.
