Page 6 of Hot for Teacher
Killian shrugged, running a hand through his hair. That was usually true enough. He had a high sex drive, even for an alpha, and the club across the street had always catered to his … specific interests well enough. Until recently, at least.
“What’s the deal?” Devon asked, echoing Killian’s thoughts. “Tired of taking control in the bedroom?” His face screwed up in a look of false sympathy. “Need to be under someone else’s strong hand for a change?”
Killian scoffed, flicking his coaster at his annoying friend. “Hardly.”
“Well, I hate hunting alone. Should I be looking for someone else to drag here on my free nights?”
It felt like defeat to admit it, but Killian wasn’t interested in being whined at by Devon every evening either. So perhaps hewouldtake a break. From the club, at least—not from going out altogether.
Killian refused to become one of those shut-in professors who only ever shuttled between their homes and the university.
“Maybe you should start with calling Prince for a bit,” Killian told Devon after a moment, naming the absent third of their trio.
Devon nodded, not pressing any further. Perhaps Killian should be grateful—if it had been any of Devon’s subs, he would have been relentless. He didn’t like not being in the know.
Not that there was anything to know. The scene here had just gotten … small. Killian had dallied already with most of the suitable omegas who’d caught his eye, and none of them had held his interest long enough to consider a more permanent arrangement. And he wasn’t interested in participating in scenes at the club otherwise. He was into more … private scenarios. Killian wasn’t flashy like Devon, or even the way Prince could be when he got his hackles up.
Devon tossed back the rest of his drink and pushed away from the bar. “You won’t mind if I desert you, then?”
Killian waved a hand. “By all means.”
Devon started to turn away, then stopped. “I’d be careful, you know,” he told Killian, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “You’re already a cold fish. I’m afraid without certain outlets, you might become a frozen one.”
Killian smirked, brushing Devon’s hand away. “Have you been keeping that little comment in your pocket just for me?”
“I have. How did you like it?”
“Tame to the point of ineffectual,” Killian surmised.
Devon pointed a finger. “See? Cold. You could at least have gotten angry.”
Except Killian didn’tgetangry. Annoyed, sometimes. Angry, almost never. He didn’t find most things worth the energy it required. He supposed there was some irony there, seeing as how the student review sites always commented on how frightening he was. But Killian never raised his voice, never lost his temper.
He simply had heavy pheromones and a resting asshole face.
“Anyway, tootles,” Devon said, turning on his heel with a mocking salute. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and find what you’re looking for here.”
“Doubtful,” Killian murmured when his friend was too far off to hear.
Mostly because Killian wasn’t looking for anything. That was the problem, wasn’t it? That nothing and no one was catching his eye.
Green eyes. Pink lips. A cap pulled low over an absurdly pretty face.
Killian slammed back the rest of his whiskey, signaling the bartender for another.Thatimage was something he shouldn’t be thinking of at all, and definitely not in this context.
The beta.
Killian had indulged in that weakness too many times already. Twice too many, to be exact.
The first mistake had been holding the makeup exam in his private office.
Killian didn’t hold makeup exams himself. He had TAs for that sort of thing. And he certainly didn’t grade them right there on the spot.
But he hadn’t meant anything by it at the time. His TAs had been busy with the end of the semester, and he’d had his required office hours free and open. And Killian had been … mildly curious. He’d noticed the close way his beta student watched him during lectures—not warily, like the other students, but with some sort of inscrutable intent—and Killian had wanted to see what his star student of the semester would do in a closed room with Killian’s pheromones.
Sadistic of him? Possibly. He’d known what the likely outcome was—other than the occasional omega, most people were uncomfortable with his scent in close quarters, even betas.
If Mr. Adler had balked, Killian would have been all understanding smiles and words of encouragement, scheduling the beta’s exam for an alternate time with a TA. That would have been that. Curiosity assuaged, with the added bonus of reminding Mr. Adler that Killian was not a suitable professor for any sort of undergraduate crush.
