Page 1 of Hot for Professor

Chapter 1

Rosalie

Pausing outside the door, I adjust my skirt. Short, but not too short; tight, but not too tight. Do I unbutton another button on my pale blue blouse, or trust that I’m already showing enough through the snug fabric? I take a deep breath and the cloth strains against my body. Perfect. As soon as I walk through this door, my life will change. I’m finally going to meet him for the first time.

I already know everything there is to know about him. From the moment I read his first, and heartbreakingly,onlyfiction book, he owned me, heart and soul. I’ve read every interview, watched his classes online, and devoured his writing instructions. I’ve been dreaming about this moment since I turned eighteen. For over a year, I’ve imagined sitting in his class, soaking in his knowledge, and finding a way to catch his eye. I haven’t dared dream he might one day return my feelings, so I keep my sights on a simpler goal. One I was confident I could achieve:

Getting the world’s sexiest professor to take my v-card.

My breath hitches in my chest as I peek through the small window into his classroom. Professor Adrian Hayes is sitting at his desk, his attention on a tablet, one hand absently strumming the surface of his desk. My core tightens, imagining that strong hand running up my thigh and under the hem of my skirt. I want him so much.

“Get it together, Rosalie,” I whisper to myself, reaching for the doorknob with a trembling hand.

When I saw there was an undergrad position available, I practically sacrificed a chicken in my dorm room to get this job. I can’t lose it by being late due to fantasizing over my new boss.Boss. Professor.How I want him to take charge of me and teach me everything I long to know.

The breezy greeting I’ve practiced in the mirror a hundred times dies on my lips once I’m in the same room as him. His presence takes up the large, airy office, and a book freak like me would normally make a beeline for his vast, floor to ceiling shelves. When he glances up at me, however, I’m frozen in my tracks. Great. Mute and stiffly standing in his doorway. I check to make sure my tongue isn’t lolling out and making it even worse. He’s just that breathtakingly gorgeous. Video and pictures couldn’t properly capture his dark golden mop of hair falling across his brow, now furrowed in mild confusion. His blue eyes rake me up and down and his full lips purse, before relaxing into a smile that ruins my panties.

“Ah, you must be my new assistant,” he says, shuffling some papers on his desk. He gives me an adorably apologetic look as he stands. His tall body unfolds from his chair, his wine-colored sweater clinging to his muscular chest. He’s an avid rower and I can’t wait to run my hands all over those firm pecs—count every ab with my fingertips. “Remind me of your name again.”

“Rosalie Minton,” I squeak, then take firm control of my shattered nerves.

As he moves toward me, I hurry forward. We meet in the middle of his office, only inches apart, too close for a handshake, too soon to wrap my arms and legs around him. I look up at him, taking in the slight stubble on his chiseled jaw, subtly breathing him in. Woodsy cologne and a hint of cinnamon. I nearly cry because I finally get to be so close to him.

He puts his hand on my shoulder and guides me back a step. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you,” he says, his voice deep and rich and rolling over me like a caress. “Remind me which class of mine you took.”

I shake my head. “I haven’t taken any yet. I’m signed up for your Freshman Lit class.” I press my lips together to keep from gushing about how excited I am.

His brow furrows again, this time in consternation. “Freshman? Do you have experience?”

Ugh, he doesn’t know this job was open to all years, and he’s disappointed in my inexperience. He doesn’t want to waste his time showing me the ropes. I hope he’s more enthusiastic about showing me what I really want to learn.

“I worked for my high school librarian. And I’ve done filing for my family’s business. I’m sure I can do whatever you want and satisfy your needs.”

I lean forward as I say this, giddy when his eyes widen and his gaze drops. I take a deep breath as those deep blue eyes run over my chest and lick my lower lip at the precise moment they travel back to my face. Color slowly floods his cheeks and he turns away abruptly. Disappointment strikes, but did I really expect him to jump me on the first day?

He’s businesslike and polite as I organize his class schedule and transcribe some notes he’s scrawled onto a legal pad. I run my fingers over his handwriting, unable to believe I’m really here, with Professor Hayes. My surreptitious glances as I work reveal him looking at me at least twice and I leave feeling hopeful, if somewhat disappointed that he barely nodded a goodbye to me.

As soon as I get to my dorm room, I log onto the blog I’ve been writing since I turned 18. I’d started it the summer before my senior year of high school to commemorate my official entry into adulthood. And what better way to celebrate it than to declare my intent to pursue Professor Hayes? The silly banner I made back then—a collage of manga drawings I’d lovingly sketched of Adrian in various states of muscular undress, emphasizing his hugeness and I shake my head, knowing I should either delete it or update it.

Losing My Virginity to the World’s Hottest Professor, the title proclaims, with haphazard links to my ramblings underneath. I love writing, and I use the blog as a confessional, a diary, and a place to work out my master plan. For several months, it went largely ignored, but slowly, people started following, commenting, and offering advice. It’s all anonymous, so I left it open to the public. Now there are thousands of people waiting to see if my ultimate dream comes true.

I was scared to meet him,I write.Afraid he wouldn’t live up to the fantasy I concocted. But he was so kind and gentlemanly. A bit reserved, but I caught him checking me out a few times, especially when I had to climb a ladder to replace some books on a high shelf. Was he trying to get a glimpse under my skirt? I hope so! Professor is everything I’ve been dreaming about, and I know I made the right choice in waiting for him. No grubby boy my age can compare to him. I can’t wait until he teaches me everything I’ve been dying to learn.

I keep writing, getting hot as I think about what I want him to do to me, before finally snapping my laptop shut with a red face when my roommate comes in. I can’t hardly wait for the next time I’m with Professor Hayes, so I rush to the bathroom to drench my desire in a cold shower.

Chapter 2

Adrian

It’s been two weeks of this torture. Rosalie’s tight little ass is about to pop out of the bottom of that short, clingy skirt of hers each time she gets up on the ladder to put away the pile of books I’ve been purposely taking down right before she comes. It’s self-torture, but I can’t get enough of eating up her supple, youthful body with my eyes. She can’tevenbe nineteen or twenty, can she?

My mouth waters and I have to look down when I catch a glimpse of white cotton panties between her slightly parted thighs as she struggles to get one of the books on the highest shelf. I want to sink my teeth into the edges of those panties and slowly pull them down to reveal the treasure inside.

Christ, my dick is harder than my granite paperweight. How did this happen?

Rosalie climbs down and catches me staring at her. She smiles, not seeming to notice I’ve just been thinking about sliding my tongue between her smooth legs. But then again, when she makes a big show of stretching out her back so that her sweater molds itself to her ripe, luscious tits, I start to think she must want me to notice. I put my head down and try to concentrate on the papers I need to grade, not the way her nipples poke through the fabric of her top. Not the way I want to lick each one and watch them shrink into tight nubs while she moans with satisfaction.

What is going on with me today?

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