Extra Credit: A Dirty & Diverse Novella Page 3

  He looks so conflicted about it, so upset, I know he’s not just telling me a line right now.

  “Hey, it’s okay. I wouldn’t do something with you that I’m not comfortable with. Plus, I mean, the student-professor thing is like an informal policy or whatever, right? Like, they can’t actually fire you. At least, I’m pretty sure they can’t.”

  “I—we can’t... I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, shit, we’re in public. Anyone could have seen us.”

  I nod, mainly because I don’t know how to respond right now. It seems like he’s pretty intent on beating himself up for what transpired between us, and I just don’t feel the same angst about this that he does. I refuse to feel guilty about this night’s events.

  Besides, I’m pretty sure everyone who hooks up at Woodburgh does so with the knowledge that it will either be with a student or a professor. Those are the only options. But, Ben’s so far into the angst spiral, I doubt that will be helpful for me to mention. Plus, that kind of makes me seem horny and desperate, doesn’t it? (never mind the fact that I am both of those things). But I’ll be fine without him. I’m not going to go home and cry about it. He’s not the only man around.

  A tiny voice in my brain asks, “yes but what if he’s special?” I shut that shit down real quick.

  Ben shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He looks at me and his eyes soften. “You’re just so damn beautiful, I couldn’t think, I just wanted you.”

  My heart shatters even as it lifts in hope. “Is it too much to ask for you to leave your guilty conscience at the door and go back to the version of you that just made me come in an alley?” I say. Hey, it was worth a shot, right? Wishful thinking and all that.

  He shakes his head again, running a tortured hand through his unruly curls.

  Well shit.

  Ben

  I can’t believe I didn’t get her number.

  This singular idea has occupied most of my thoughts over the past week. I’m a fucking idiot. There was a reason for not asking Lina for her number before I put her in a car and left her to deal with my drunk colleagues. And the reason was...

  I’m a fucking idiot.

  No, seriously. I distinctly remember my thought process that night. It’s better to end it this way. Don’t ask for her number, she’s a goddamn student. If you get her number, you’ll most definitely use it immediately, and then you’ll never ever be able to put her out of your mind.

  Well, the joke’s on me, because I already can’t get her out of my mind. Not having a way to contact her just adds to the shit sandwich of my terrible week. All I can think about is her out there in the world, dazzling everyone with her smile and her jokes and her smartass comments.

  I know, if I really really needed to, I could probably find her by checking the registrar’s office. How many Lina’s could there be on a campus this small? Still, I’m waiting it out. I’m hopeful that maybe one day, I will be able to go more than ten minutes without thinking about her.

  Unfortunately, the more time passes, the more obsessed I become. My connection to her is not fading in the least.

  It’s the first day of the semester, and I’m hopeful that my busy schedule will give me less downtime to think about Lina. One of my colleagues, Professor Michaels, had a family emergency a few days ago, and our department was left scrambling to find a replacement for the classes he was already signed up to teach. As a result, the rest of our team each took on one extra class. It wasn’t ideal, since American Government wasn’t exactly my specialty. But still, I could use all the distractions I could get.

  In my years of being a professor, I’ve never once had to teach with a raging boner. At least, until now. There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.

  The situation in my pants has been dire for almost an hour, when my angel walked into the classroom.

  I was at the desk, reviewing Professor Michaels’s lesson plan to get a sense of how he wanted to run the class this semester. I was being constantly interrupted by this brown-noser student named Claire. Yes, I can tell a brown-noser on the first day of class, within two minutes of speaking to them. And Claire was definitely either trying to get an A or trying to get this D, most likely both. Either way, her tactics would not work on me. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to be getting the hint.

  Suddenly, the air shifted around me and I looked up to see the subject of 99% of my thoughts since last weekend walk into the classroom. She looked... different, than she had last weekend. More withdrawn, and more than a little uncertain as she took a seat a couple of rows from the front. She hadn’t yet noticed me at the desk, but I couldn’t even pretend to listen to what Claire was droning on about as I watched her.

  She was dressed casually in jeans and a V-neck t-shirt—neither of which did anything to hide her mouthwatering curves. Curves that she had so sweetly pressed against me not too long ago. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to put those thoughts out of my head before I came in my pants at the front of this rapidly filling classroom.

  I vaguely registered Claire walking away from me in a huff since I wasn’t listening to her. Some dick took the seat next to Lina and immediately started chatting her up. I nearly leaped across the row of seats to punch his smug face.

  The rest of class passed by in a blur—all I know is that my dick had been rock hard since the moment I spotted her. At one point during my lecture, the douche next to her leaned over and whispered in her ear—something that made her smile—and I damn near almost passed out from 1) the beauty of that smile and 2) rage that it was directed at someone else.

  Thankfully, class ends without me punching a student or coming in my pants like a teenager. I’m doing my usual packing up routine at the front, and a few students come up to ask questions or, in Claire’s case, flirt with me as I get ready to leave.

  I keep my eye on Lina, hoping I can catch her on her way out. She’s been avoiding my gaze since I introduced myself at the top of the class. I saw her eyes widen when I explained that I’d be taking over for Professor Michaels this semester. It could be wishful thinking, but I swear I saw her breath hitch a little as I began my lecture.

  But now, I spot Lina making her way down the row, still chatting with whoever that prick is, and I worry I’m going to miss my chance. I manage to catch her just as she’s about to walk by me.

  “Lina—um, Miss Vasquez—just a minute.”

  I can tell that she’s weighing whether or not she can just ignore me by the stiff set of her back, and then the slump of her shoulders when she accepts the fact that it would be hard to explain to the other students why she was rude to me. She says bye to her friend and makes her way down to me. Shit. If she comes any closer I swear I won’t be able to hide the baseball bat in my pants.

  “What can I do for you, Professor Fairbanks?” she says, and her voice almost makes me lose it. It’s a little quiet, a little hesitant, but I remember what it sounded like in my ear when I kissed her neck and held her tight against me as she came on my hand. I quickly try to put those thoughts out of my head.

  “Do you have a moment to speak with me?” I ask, noting the confusion on her face.

  There’s a long, tense moment while she studies me.

  “Is this about the class?” she responds.

  Well shit. That’s definitely not the response I was expecting, but I guess she has a reason to not want to talk to me. I stare at her for a beat and then shake my head.

  “Technically, it is not about the class. But—“

  “Professor—”

  “Please don’t call me that. You can still call me Ben.”

  The look she gives me is incendiary. “Um, no thank you. I’ll stick to Professor. Anyway, I’ve got another class in a few minutes so if it’s okay with you, I’m going to make my way over there.”

  She starts for the door, and every part of me wants to grab her and pull her back, to whisper in her ear that I haven’t stopped jerking off thinking about her in a week,
and how all I want is to lay her out on this desk and make up for lost time. I can’t do any of these things, but I have to say something.

  “Lina, please. I’ve got office hours this afternoon at Reynolds Hall. Will you come see me then?”

  The look on her face lets me know that she’s about to decline, and I just... don’t want to hear it. Suddenly, I’m right beside her, close enough to touch but exercising an inhuman level of restraint. My hands are balled tight at my sides, my fingernails digging into my palms, as I try desperately to not reach out and touch some part of her. Instead, I bend just a little so that I can speak quietly into her ear.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon but now you’re here and honestly all I can think about is touching you again. Actually, it’s all I’ve been thinking about all week. I’m dying here.”

  She’s breathing hard and I can tell she’s just as affected as I am. I decide to go in for the kill, moving ever so slightly closer to her and brushing the lightest kiss against her cheekbone before whispering the word please in her ear once more. Lina shivers and looks up at me.

  “Reynolds Hall,” she whispers, and I nod. With that, she turns and hurries out of the classroom, while I try not to groan at my painful dick absolutely throbbing between my legs.

  Lina

  I should not be crushing on my hot professor. I should not be crushing on my hot professor. I should not be—

  But he’s so damn sexy—

  No!

  I check my watch yet again as I try to kill time before I’m due in Ben’s—ugh, Professor Fairbanks’s—office. Oh great, only two minutes have passed since I last checked the time. I still have fifteen minutes until it’s time to see him again. Okay, fifteen minutes is fine. It’s nothing. I can do fifteen minutes.

  I check my watch again.

  Shit.

  Absolutely nothing could have prepared me for the absolute raw masculinity and sexuality that is Benjamin Fairbanks teaching a class. Once I caught a glimpse of him at the front of the classroom, thumbing through his notes while patiently listening to some girl talk at him, I had the sudden urge to turn around and run.

  What the hell was he doing here? This class was supposed to be taught by some random old dude. Honestly, I kind of hated that I still had to take this stupid class in order to graduate, but it was the most convenient for my schedule. Still, once I saw Ben and heard him explain that he would be taking over as our professor, I seriously considered just skipping out on class and only showing up for midterms. I could probably still manage to get a C even if I don’t attend any classes, right? Although, that wouldn’t look great on my final transcript, which is important for any future grad school acceptances. Fuck, I need to suck it up.

  I’m only a little ashamed to admit I spent most of the class ogling his forearms.

  But oh, the forearms! I tried to keep my eyes off of him, but I happened to look up just as he was rolling the sleeves up on his classy, perfectly starched button-down. My brain was telling me to turn away, to stop staring, but every other part of me was on fire as he revealed inch by inch of those delicious arms.

  Seriously though, what do I think is about to happen in these office hours? Why am I freaking out? I’m going to go in there, let him apologize and appease his guilt for ending things so abruptly last weekend.

  What I’m not going to do in his office, however, is fantasize about him taking me on his desk and having his way with me. Even though seeing him made something ache deep inside me—something I’ve never felt before that all too brief night with him—and I’m more than ready for more. But I need to lock that down. Absolutely not happening.

  As I make my way to Ben’s office in Reynolds Hall, I try to calm the incessant thump-thump-thumping of my heart, which feels like it’s about to beat out of my damn chest.

  This is going to be a brief conversation with someone who happens to be exceedingly attractive. Once this conversation is over, I’m going to go to the library and work on my grad school applications until I can’t keep my eyes open. Then, I’ll go back to my apartment, fall into bed, and do it all over again in the morning.

  I have no time for crushes on my professor. Or on anyone, really. Not that any other guy has caught my attention since I started attending this school. Still, that’s neither here nor there. The point is—what was the point? The point is—

  I don’t know what the point is. I can’t focus on the point because I’m standing right outside Ben’s office door, and I can hear his sexy, growly voice while he talks on the phone. This bastard has got me ready to risk it all. When did I turn into such a freaking horndog?

  Okay, bitch, you got this. Deep breaths. He’s just a guy. Just a hot guy. Just a hot guy with a sexy voice and those freaking forearms and the ability to make my panties disintegrate on sight.

  Right, okay then.

  I try to imbue my knock with as much confidence as possible, but unfortunately, I only succeed in slightly brushing my knuckles against the door frame. Cool cool. Sounds about right.

  He glances up from a stack of papers on his desk and stares at me for a second too long before he shoots me a sexy, hesitant little smile, like he knows he shouldn’t be happy to see me but he can’t exactly fight it either. I know the feeling. He motions for me to enter.

  “Lina, come on in. Please shut the door and make yourself comfortable,” he says. Something about this command has me going a little weak, and I try to avoid that intense stare as I sit in a chair on the other side of his desk.

  My little pep talk from before has gone out the window because this fucking guy is now wearing glasses and looks 5000% sexier than he did before.

  As if that was even possible.

  But seriously, GLASSES?! GTFO.

  I accidentally let out a deep sigh that comes out a little too desperate or dramatic or something. I don’t know. I can’t focus anywhere. Can’t look at his face. Can’t allow myself to get trapped in those freaking gorgeous brown eyes. Nope nope nope.

  I take a chance and look back at his face to see the intense stare is still there but now it has transformed into... desire? Want? That look has me squirming in my seat, my panties growing increasingly damp while he stares at me.

  Get it together, Vasquez.

  I take a deep breath before I speak. “Alright, so I’m here, what can I help you with?”

  Ben—it is honestly too weird to call him Professor Fairbanks in my head—steeples his hands in front of his face, deep in thought.

  I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He looks like a sexy, slightly nerdy king or something, all regal in his chair, expecting to be serviced. If I squint, I could see a harem of girls kneeling around him, waiting to cater to his every desire. I am suddenly irrationally jealous of those girls. Yes, the ones I just made up in my head.

  His deep brown eyes ensnare me in their unrelenting gaze. I’m not sure how long it’s been since he blinked, but it feels like an eternity. Finally, he speaks.

  “I just wanted to say, once again, that I’m really sorry for what happened between us.”

  Ugh, even though I knew this was coming, there’s still part of me that was holding out hope that maybe he’d... what? Decide to quit his job just so he could fuck me? I’m ridiculous.

  Before I can say something stupid, he stands up and crosses over to where I’m sitting. He perches on the edge of the desk, and now he’s close enough to hear my unsteady breaths, close enough to read the distraught expression on my face. I’m clutching my bag in my lap, nervously pulling at one of the threads until it threatens to unravel. Ben puts a hand over mine to still my movements. I give him a sheepish look.

  “Baby, I’m sorry.”

  My intake of breath upon hearing that endearment is both swift and embarrassing. But I don’t have the energy to care because I’m so relieved. I’m not the only one affected, I’m not the only one who cares. Somehow, this is more important to me than I ever imagined it could be.

  “I can’t transfer into
another class,” I say. “It’s my last required course before graduation and this is the only time I can take it.”

  He nods. “I would never ask you to. Me taking over this class was a last minute schedule shift. But, truthfully, the minute you walked in, it felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.”

  He reaches out like he wants to caress my face, but stills his hand, looking down as if he’s surprised it has moved on its own accord.

  “Lina,” he says, voice a little ragged, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

  “You haven’t?” I hate the way my voice sounds. I hate that he can reduce me to this quivering mess of a person.

  Ben shakes his head.

  I blow out a heavy breath. “I’ve been thinking about you too,” I say, figuring honesty is the best policy and all that. His eyes darken and I know that look. I remember that look.

  “Is that so? What have you been thinking about?”

  The underlying sexual power in that question rocks into me, and I shift in my chair, trying to put some pressure on the spot that needs it the most. Ben tracks the movement, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me. Still, I ignore him, shaking my head a bit in lieu of a response.

  He grows quiet before grabbing my hand once more and pulling me close to him. Our thighs touch and our breath mingles and I don’t want him to ever let me go.

  “I want you so bad, I don’t know what to do about it. All I know is that I haven’t stopped thinking about your perfect body up against mine, your sweet kisses, the way you felt so hot between your legs, the way you came so beautifully on my hand. And I know it makes me a bastard, but fuck if I don’t want it again.”

  It’s all I can do to remain upright upon hearing his confession. But what is happening here? I’ve been in his office for all of three minutes and suddenly I’m forgetting that we very much cannot do this. It was his rule, for crying out loud. He’s the one who decided it. I try to push away from him, though admittedly I don’t try very hard.