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Kissing her, holding her, and fucking her has occupied every spare moment I've had since the last time I saw her. Touching her even a little and getting caught would blacklist me from every university in the country. I'd have to start publishing under a pseudonym. Not only that, but it would earn me the moniker of the worst father in the fucking world.
Still, I want her.
When she came to see me for extra help, when I had her pressed up against the couch, and when we were face to face, inches away from a kiss that would change everything, it took all of my self-control not to give in. My son interrupted us, and that was the perfect excuse. But at that moment, all I wanted to do was tear her clothes off and make her mine.
That would be a disaster, not only for her grades and reputation but for my son too. Something tells me he wouldn't keep quiet about something like that.
Class finally ends, and I turn to the whiteboard, hoping Noelle will leave quietly and I won't have to watch her pert, little ass walking up the stairs and out of the classroom. A few moments pass, and then I hear the delicate clearing of a throat behind me. I close my eyes in defeat because there is zero doubt in my mind who is expecting my attention.
"Did you have a question, Miss Henry?" I ask without turning around, erasing the words from the whiteboard, hoping to hide the erection straining in my slacks.
"Yes," she says softly. "About the essay."
"The essay is due tomorrow, Miss Henry." Maybe if I don't say her name, I'll be able to rebuild that wall between us, the one that should exist for teachers and students.
"I know." She sighs. "I'm having trouble concentrating."
I swallow down the offer to help her that pops into my mind immediately, telling her instead, "I hear the library is quiet this close to break. Maybe you should head there and...give us both some space."
"Sorry," Noelle mutters and the hurt in her voice makes me wince. "I'm just worried."
I turn, leaning against the podium and crossing my arms. She looks adorable, with a light dusting of freckles on her cheeks and her glasses a little askew. All I can think about is pulling them off her face and kissing her, pushing her onto her knees, and sliding my cock into her mouth.
"Why are you worried?" I ask, my voice sounding hoarse even to my own ears.
Noelle's voice is small. "It's the essay. I finished it, but I was hoping you could read it over for me before I submit it. Give me some pointers if there's anything glaring I should fix. I need to get as close to a perfect grade as possible."
I figured as much. We are careening towards the exact same situation we were in earlier this week—Noelle and I alone in my office. And like a fool, I'm going to let it happen.
"If it's due tomorrow, I'll read it tonight. Bring it after 5 PM.”
Her face lights up, and the smile that spreads across her face makes the ache in my dick grow worse. "Great! Thank you!"
"Of course." I watch her turn and rush up the stairs, her little ass moving like it was made to jiggle for me.
Damn it.
I'm in trouble.
* * *
I've pacedthe length of the office at least a dozen times when Noelle's soft knock echoes through the room.
"Come in," I tell her, both anticipating seeing her and dreading how hard I'm going to have to hold myself back. She enters just as hesitantly as before, a small smile on her face when she sees me. She's still dressed in that damn tight yoga outfit, the long sleeves of the shirt doing basically nothing to hide her figure.
"Thank you for seeing me again." She makes a beeline right for the couch where we sat before, shuffling through her bag and pulling out a familiar stack of papers. She clearly thinks we're going to pick right back up where we left off, but I had other plans to try and maintain some distance between us.
Noelle waits for me, looking up, face bright. I give one last dejected look at the desk and computer chair where I hoped to host her and resign myself to sitting on the couch next to Noelle Henry—the cause of all my fantasies and woes.
Just like before, she smells like apples and a warm summer day. Everything about her radiates life and my urge to pull her to me and breathe every bit of her in is almost overwhelming. I flex the muscles of my legs hard to keep the blood flow where it needs to be and not in the one place I don't want it.
"Here." She hands me her essay, brimming with excitement. "I trimmed it down like you said. I know you're the one giving me the grade and it isn't exactly ethical for you to be the one giving me pointers, so I really appreciate it."
I settle in to read, leaning back against the couch, Noelle hovering over me as I do so. I know she's reading along, second-guessing these words she's probably read 1,000 times already, but with each sentence, I become more and more sure that her worry is misplaced.
It's an excellent paper. She took direction perfectly, and everything was succinct and to the point. Noelle's writing is clear and concise without being stilted. A smile pulls at the corner of my lips. It might have been at the very last minute, but she pulled it off.
"This is great, Noelle," I tell her, looking up. The joy on her face at the compliment is obvious, and it makes my heart slam against my ribcage.
