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She paused at the door, holding the stack of papers to her chest and blushing again—which was going to drive me mad throughout the semester. I didn’t know how long I’d last with her sitting up front, staring at me with those huge brown eyes.
“I won’t be,” she said shyly.
Michelle leaned back in her swivel chair as Sierra scurried out of the office, throwing me one last shy look. When she disappeared into the hallway, Michelle glanced up at me and hummed to herself, the way she always did when she had done something.
“Is she the reason you asked me to teach?” I asked.
“I thought you would like her,” my sister said, setting the end of her pen on her lips and giggling softly. “I talked to her on the phone about a week ago, and she was a nervous wreck. She sounded so cute, and who would’ve known that she is?”
“Michelle …” I twisted my head toward the window and watched Miss Monroe exit the club and head down the street toward the bus stop, her brown hair blowing in the breeze. “I can’t teach this class.”
My sister rolled her eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I’m not dramatic,” I argued. “I’m being reasonable.”
“Unreasonable,” Michelle said, smirking. “Because you won’t do anything to her. You do remember what you told me last year after you sold your business, don’t you? That you’re done searching for a submissive. That you’re going to be a grumpy old man by yourself.”
“I didn’t say that,” I growled.
“Maybe not the last part, but you haven’t been yourself since Mom died,” she said.
“Mom dying has nothing to do with my life here.”
She shrugged. “Well then, you should be fine teaching, huh? You don’t want a submissive, and Sierra Monroe is definitely not your type. So, you don’t have to worry about a thing! Right?”
I gritted my teeth and walked out of the room, heading straight for my office. After shutting the door behind me, I leaned against it and lifted my gaze to the window facing one of the many bus stops near our club.
Sierra bounced on her toes to keep warm, glancing back at the club. While she couldn’t see me through the tinted windows, I couldn’t pull my gaze away from her. I drew my tongue across my lower lip, dick twitching.
The way she couldn’t stop blushing tonight, stuttering and stumbling over her words.
“Fuck,” I growled.
This was going to be a long semester.
3
sierra
Fuck. I sprinted off the bus and down two streets while gazing at the time on my phone. Thirty minutes late?! Why the hell did class get out so late? I should’ve been here on time, like I had promised Steve—I meant, Professor Patton.
When I reached the entrance, I leaned over my knees to catch my breath and gazed up at the same security guards I had spoken with last night. “I-I’m here f-for class,” I said between breaths, chest rising and falling.
“You’re late.”
“I know,” I whispered. “Can I please come in so Professor Patton doesn’t kill me?”
The stoic man chuckled and stepped to the side. I raced into the building without looking like a complete newbie in a room full of pro dominants and submissives, then found the back hallway, where the class was being held.
Still attempting to catch my breath, I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. All the seated students snapped their heads toward me while Professor Patton glanced up from the open textbook in his hand, his dark eyes on me.
“Sorry I’m late,” I whispered, closing the door softly behind me.
From the door in the back of the room, I scanned the room for an empty seat.
Professor Patton snapped the book closed and tapped an empty desk, front and center. I gulped and hurried down the aisle of seats toward the front of the room, my gaze not leaving his smoldering one once.
Once I finally collapsed into the seat, I scrambled to set my belongings at my feet and pulled out a pen. All the other students had open textbooks, and I cursed myself for not coming sooner. I hated the attention.
