Page 7 of Hot for Teacher
But Mr. Adler had instead settled on Killian’s office couch with a quiet, contented sigh, getting to his work right away, as if Killian’s pheromones were soothing rather than suffocating. He’d completed his test with focused efficiency. And when Killian had graded that test on the spot—curious to see if Mr. Adler’s scoresmatched Killian’s standards—and handed it back to him, Chase Adler had stood there, staring. Waiting for … something.
The odd moment had stuck in Killian’s mind. Like a pebble in his shoe, setting him off-kilter when he least suspected it. Forming the tiniest crack in his rock-solid foundation.
Which was the only way to explain this past Monday, when Killian had slipped and called Chase—Mr. Adler—a good boy. And the beta student had looked at him like Killian had just opened a portal to another world.
If the smallest little phrase could do that to him, what would it be like to—
No. Fuck no.
Killian didnotlust after undergrad students. Not even former ones. He may not have reached forty yet, but they had still always seemed like toddlers to him. Rowdy and undisciplined and more interested in smearing each other with pheromones than solving a simple statistics problem.
Except the beta hadn’t been like that at all. He was ever so polite. Ever so punctual. Always saying “sir,” even now, when he was no longer Killian’s student. It wasn’t even Killian’s preferred title—not in the bedroom—but it still did something to him. His cock was starting to fill just thinking about it.
Fuck that. Time to go home.
Killian left the rest of his drink on the bar, along with his payment and a large tip. He mentally reversed his decision for momentary abstinence.
Killian would come back tomorrow, in a better state of mind, and find himself someone, no matter whether they were in the scene or not. He’d take that someone home, and he’d fuck Chase Adler’s sweet, polite, “Here you are, sir,” right out of his mind.
Chase Adler would not be a problem.
Killian would make sure of it.
That had been the plan,anyway.
A plan that had gone completely awry just about a minute ago, when Killian had shown up to his favorite bar to find Chase Adler sitting at the end of it.
Now Killian was standing just inside the doorway. He’d clocked the boy immediately—recognized him from the back of his goddamn head. Chase was wearing his ever-present baseball cap, but Killian already knew that underneath it he’d find straight dirty-blond hair—the kind that couldn’t decide if it was blond or brunet—parted in the middle and just long enough to tuck behind his ears. He knew that hair covered a face that looked like if a nineties heartthrob and a Disney prince had a baby. He knew he’d find full lips, striking green eyes, and a young man who was handsome bordering on pretty.
Chase Adler was dressed in his usual informal athleisure wear, but Killian also knew he wouldn’t smell at all like sweat. He’d smell clean, almost minty. He always did. Chase might not have had pheromones to emit, but scenting him wasn’t a hardship by any means. The one drawback was that, covering his natural scent, Chase always smelled of two strange alphas. Brothers or roommates, Killian would guess, judging by the light touch of those pheromones. Presumably a lover would be more heavy-handed.
Killian would fucking smother him in his scent, if that boy were his.
Well, that was an unwelcome thought.
Fuck. Killian could leave.Shouldleave. If he’d seen any other student he recognized this close to his usual hunting grounds, he would have.
But now that Chase was here, Killian couldn’t help his curiosity. This wasn’t a popular undergrad location for a casual nightout. It was too far from campus, and the drinks were much too expensive for the college crowd.
And Chase was here alone.
He should have looked out of place, there among the expensive suits and high heels of the other patrons, but he had a quiet confidence that seemed to allow him to fit in anywhere. He wasn’t fidgeting or glancing around. He was sipping calmly at his cocktail, something clear in a tall glass.
He wasn’t even staring at a phone.
There was, however, another destination this bar was conveniently adjacent to. Was Chase perhaps gearing up to cross the street? If he was …
Some unnameable emotion surged in Killian, and he forced it back down with a quiet curse.
But no, Killian wasn’t leaving.
He wasn’t going todoanything—he hadn’t lost his senses completely—but he was nothing if not an academic. He had an academic question now—namely, what the fuck was one of his former students doing at this bar?
And observation was the only way to get his answers.
Killian took a moment, making sure his pheromones were under wraps as he folded his shirt cuffs up to his elbow and then strode more fully into the bar.
He took a seat at one of the high-top tables within Chase’s line of sight, nodding to the bartender, who started pouring Killian’s preferred whiskey without a word before coming out from behind the bar to drop it off at his table.
