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When I open the double doors to the lecture hall on Monday morning, students are crowded in the aisles chatting among themselves. They assume I am one of them. Not this time.
I stroll down the center aisle toward Professor Frazier, who smiles when he sees me. “Good morning, Samantha. I hope you’re well rested and ready to work.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, shifting the bag on my shoulder to adjust the weight. “I’ve already prepped the first three assignments for you.”
He flashes another smile, his gaze moving from my face and down my body.
Ugh, why does he have to be such a creeper? For such a well-respected attorney and chair of the law department, I would have expected someone more… professional. Ever since our first encounter, I’ve been weirded out by him. But I need this job. Regardless of his behavior, I have to ignore him. He’s not doing anything different than other men on campus.
They’re all pigs, I tell myself. It’s part of their nature.
I have to remind myself that working with Professor Frazier is a stepping stone to my next endeavor. This job will look good on my resume.
“Pass those around the room,” Professor Frazier says, holding his hand out to a long table on the opposite side of the podium. A stack of papers sits at the edge. “Then, take a seat so we can begin.”
I grip the stack in my hand about to walk up the aisle when the door slams. As I look up, I’m shocked to see Tucker Kane standing in front of the double doors. He looks like a blond, broad-shouldered sex god accompanied by another gorgeous guy who’s tall and muscular with shaggy brown hair. They’re both built like athletes, disgustingly handsome, and capturing the attention of everyone around them.
Tucker’s eyes find mine. He appraises my body and rolls his tongue over his bottom lip. A shiver runs through me and this time not because of the chill in the cold building. Tucker winks at me and begins to walk toward me, staring me down.
Dressed in a leather jacket paired with a fitted navy tee and low-slung jeans that hang from his hips, he reminds me of a male model. Now, I’m the one licking my lips. I suck in a deep breath, frozen in place, my feet unable to carry me.
Tucker whispers something to his friend, both of their eyes on me, talking about me. I want to run away. This can’t be happening.
He stops in front of me, his hand outstretched, a strange expression crossing his adorable face. “So, we meet again, Sam.” My mouth falls open slightly before I realign my jaw again. He continues, his hand still waiting for me to place a paper in it, “Is that for me?”
Without a word, I give Tucker and his cute friend a syllabus which earns me a cocky smirk from each of them. Stunned stupid, I force myself to snap out of it. Tucker cannot throw me off my game, not when I need the money. A letter of recommendation from Professor Frazier will also go a long way.
Tucker and his friend find their places in the last row of the room. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his thick chest and kicks his feet up on the top of the wooden chair in front of him. He flashes an evil grin in my direction, but it’s sexy as hell. There’s no way I’ll make it through an entire semester with Tucker staring at me this way.
After everyone has a syllabus, Professor Frazier slips behind the podium. He gives his spiel about what he expects over the next twelve weeks, instructing the class to contact me. Only in my absence, or in an emergency, are they to contact him. Which means Tucker, of all people, will have direct access to me.
I clear the lump forming at the back of my throat. What I wouldn’t do right now for a coffee. I’m parched, desperate for a drink. I might need something stronger than coffee with Tucker in my class. He makes it impossible for me to focus on anything other than him. His presence commands attention, and he seems to be well aware of this fact.
I’m so damn screwed.
Chapter Fourteen
Tucker
Samantha is in my class. No, wait... she’s my teaching assistant. I smile like an idiot when Professor Frazier tells the class to contact Sam. My mind is reeling, full of unanswered questions I want her to answer. Now that she’s my TA, she can’t avoid me.
Sitting at the desk next to the podium dressed in a tight skirt and blouse that hugs her big, perky tits, she moves her hand through her long brown hair. She looks good, really fucking good, actually. So much so that I want to bend her over that desk and fuck the sexy grin off her face.
