by Mia Luxe
I’m so, so stupid. I’ve thrown everything I worked so hard for down the drain with a single word. Olivia, you are an idiot!
“But it would be a shame to kick out my most brilliant student.”
The words hit me like a slap in the face, and I jerk my head up, staring at his cool gaze to see if this is a joke. His face looks deadly serious, without a hint of amusement.
Yelling, I was expecting. Being kicked out was a possibility. But calling me his most brilliant student?
“In business, you rarely get a second chance. You make one outburst like that about your boss, and you’ll be out of the company in a second. Just like that.” He snaps his fingers, then pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in.
“I am torn. On one hand, I should prepare you for the business world. I should punish you for what you did so you can learn your lesson now before it costs you more in the future.
Please, please no.
“Luckily for you… I may be willing to give you a second chance. If you convince me you will work on your temper.”
Work on my temper? He’s talking to me like a child! Focus, Olivia. If you had better control of your temper, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. And if he changes his mind and kicks you out… your whole life is basically ruined.
“Whatever it takes. I promise nothing like this will ever happen again.”
He chuckles, and it takes me by surprise.
“Oh, I know that. After seeing your face turn bright red in front of the class I doubt you would risk humiliation again, no matter how angry you get. But that’s not enough. If you want to stay in my class, you need to prove to me you can control yourself.”
“Prove to you? How?”
“From now on, we meet once a week in my office. I’m going to teach you the skills you need if you want to turn your unfocused potential into real business acumen. We meet at noon, every Wednesday. If you’re late by a minute, you’re out. Miss a session, you’re out. One little outburst from you and your second chance is over. Understand?”
“Yes Professor.”
“Good. And I need to know you are truly sorry about what you said in class today. You said in front of everyone that I am an asshole. Do you still believe that?”
Yes, you’re an asshole. A confident, cocky, asshole who thinks he is smarter than everyone else. An asshole who thinks he can treat me like an unruly child, forced to learn how to “control my temper” under your oh so important tutelage.
I try not to spit the words out.
“No Sir.”
“Good. You also said that I tear people’s questions apart, and that’s why no one wants to answer my questions. Is that true?”
Yes, it’s damn well true! No matter how well someone answers your questions, you always find a flaw!
“No Professor Harrison.”
“No?”
“When… when you comment on a student’s answer, you help them by showing them what they overlooked. It helps students when they get your expert opinion.”
Flatter the man. He’s got a massive ego, and if stroking it is going to keep me in this class… no matter how bitter it tastes, you need to make it up to him.
I can see a hint of a smirk in his eyes, and I am surprised to see his sternness has disappeared.
I have the feeling that he is toying with me and enjoying it. I can feel my frustration rising. The way he is treating me makes me feel so powerless.
I’m angry… But the way he’s taking control, scolding me… It makes him seem even more in control.
It’s bad enough I had to apologize. Now he is making me humiliate myself.
I need to be in this class. It’s worth a little shame to be able to keep my scholarship and stay on the team. They need me. Ugh, I hate this man! Look at him, leaning back in his chair, enjoying my contrition. The way his muscles strain against his shirt, his huge hands resting firmly on his desk.
“Very good. When I ask you a question next class and you answer me, should I tear into your answer or should I let any mistakes go unfixed?”
Now that is too damn far.
I bite the inside of my lip, trying not to yell at this arrogant asshole. His lip is upturned in the beginnings of that infuriating smirk, and I feel the blood racing through my body.
You asshole! You’re really going to make me say it! This is so unfair!
He raises his eyebrow expectantly.
“If I make a mistake, I hope that you will correct me.”
“And if you act like a bad-tempered, spoiled little brat again?”
My mouth opens in shock.
Did he just call me a bad-tempered little brat? That is too far!
“What the hell did you call me?”
I stand up in fury. I cannot believe a Professor would say something so insulting.
He rises, looming above me and looking down. His words are more serious and intense than any I have heard before in my life.
“When you’re in business, making a million-dollar deal, the guy on the other side of the table is going to do anything to get into your head. He’s going to sniff out your weakness and dominate you.
I’ve never seen him exude so much strength.
“When I look at you, I see a smart young woman who I know is going to make huge decisions. If you don’t have your temper controlled by then you’re going to fail. You already put your scholarship and academic future on the line with your little outburst in class. You need to prove to me, 100%, that you are serious about controlling your own thoughts and emotions. So I will ask you one more time, Miss Abernathy.”
He takes a second, then repeats the infuriating phrase.
“What should I do if you act like a bad-tempered, spoiled little brat again?”
I take a deep breath. It makes sense now. I still feel anger at the words, but I need to push past it.
He’s been provoking me to prove a point. That little smirk was designed to push me over the edge. This is the moment of truth. I need to be able to control myself, even if it’s just for a second. Then I can imagine spiking a volleyball into his too-handsome face. Say the words, Olivia! Just say them!
“Then you should… You should kick me out if I act like… That again.”
I cannot meet his eyes. He smiles, genuine and warm.
“Miss Abernathy, you have more potential than any woman who has graced my classroom. When I’m done with you, you are going to be unstoppable. I will see you in class tomorrow. Until then, I want you to think about how foolish you felt with that outburst in class. There are consequences to your actions. You are dismissed.”
With that he walks to the door and opens it for me as if we are on a date.
What does he really think of me? Does he view me as a temperamental brat or a woman with promise?
Burning Up
Bruce Harrison - Monday Morning
As soon as she leaves, I let the air out of my lungs. Every muscle in my body is taut and tense. The normal slow rhythm of my heart is quickened, and my body feels poised to move. It’s like I am waiting for the starting gun, ready to dive into the water and explode into action.
I breathe in, savoring the slight hint of Olivia still in my office, feminine and enticing.
And completely off limits.
The one woman in class that can make you lose your cool calls you an asshole to your face, and you decide to schedule one on one sessions?
Professors shouldn’t get too close to their students. It’s playing with fire. That mistake got Professor Muntz fired last year amid a huge scandal. A scandal that both ruined Professor Muntz’ reputation and the reputation of a former top student.
I sit down, trying to clear my head.
I can’t believe I called that temptress a spoiled brat to her face. I’m being too harsh with her. But she needs to learn. If she can’t control that temper and her focus, she is never going to get where she needs to be.
There is a delicious temptation to provoke her, to see the fire i
n her eyes and taste her ferocity. To provoke her and then to discipline her. To make her cross the line and then submit to me.
My fist clenches and un-clenches on the desk. There is a wave of tension that needs to work itself out of my body. Being in the same room as Miss Abernathy is pure torture. Every little hair on my body stands up, and my whole being aches for her touch, to kiss her deeply and feel her body tremble in response. She is a powerful woman. A woman I want to bend to my will.
I wanted nothing more than to feel her heat feed into mine until we burn up, taking her hard on my office desk.
I can imagine succumbing to the temptation.
“You need to prove to me, Olivia, that you will follow my orders. That you won’t question me again.”
“I need to stay in your class, Professor Harrison.”
“That’s a good start. But here, in my office, you call me Sir.”
“Yes… Sir,” she says, tasting the words. Liking them.
I stand up, my cock tenting against my pants. Her eyes fixate on the outline of my dick, and she stares, excited, wanting me as completely as I want her. Wanting to submit to my every need.
“I’m going to punish you for that little outburst. Hands on my desk, you little brat.”
She responds to my orders instinctively, standing from her chair and bending over my desk. Her perfect ass arches for me. She wants to do anything she can for me. Anything to please me. I’ve ignited a lust in her she can’t control. I slide my hands over her ass, lifting her skirt and exposing her little thong. I spank her hard, leaving a red mark as she gasps. I want to make her my little slut, all mine.
I get up and smooth my pants, readjusting myself, glad to be alone as the heat flushes through my body at the thought of making her perfect body mine. My cock is painfully hard.
With concentrated effort, I manage to push thoughts of her to the back of my mind, clearing my head like I used to before an important race.
I need to get to the pool and work this tension out. Fifteen flat out hundred-meter sprints. Then I’ll move on to fifties until I am ready to pass out. I’ll exercise until I am thinking about the lactic acid burning in my muscles instead of the heat I feel in that minx’s presence.
Only I know that no matter how hard I work my body, I won’t be sated until I have her. Until I make her mine.
Pillow Talk
Olivia Abernathy - Monday Morning
I slam the door so hard it almost bounces off the hinges, causing Zoe to jump up in bed. She’s right back under the covers after her morning class, listening to music.
“What the hell Olivia! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“I’m sorry. Ugh, it’s just…”
She gives me a wry look. “Rough day at the office?”
I put my bag down and collapse on my bed with a sigh. A sigh that makes Zoe giggle, now that she knows nothing is seriously wrong, just seriously exasperating. I was lucky to get her as my roommate, but right now I don’t feel lucky at all.
She pulls out her earbuds, giving me her entire attention. When I don’t tell her what happened right away, the questions start.
“Did that asshole Professor Harrison correct you in front of everyone again?”
“You have no idea Zoe. It was so, so much worse. I don’t even know if I can go back to class.”
She gives me a look like I’m being a drama queen.
“Oh shush. That’s what you said last time. Everyone knows you’re a smart cookie Olivia. You can’t be 100% right every time.”
I want to break my no-street clothes under the covers rule and crawl under my blanket. Instead, I stretch out on the bed.
“I called Professor Harrison an asshole. In front of the entire class.”
Zoe’s jaw drops. She looks like she can’t decide whether to burst out laughing or come hug me.
Her peals of laughter ring out.
Great. She decided on option one.
“You what? You called Professor Harrison, the Professor Harrison an asshole? In front of the entire class? I heard he once kicked someone out of class just for chewing gum! What did he do?”
“I was thinking about last night and he was chewing me out for not paying attention. It just came out!”
Now Zoe’s look turns to pure sympathy. No one likes to remember a volleyball game where they let down the team.
“I see. But in front of the whole -” I can see her physically bite her lip, her curiosity battling with her urge to be a good friend.
“Did he freak out? Did he kick you out of the class?”
I wince, remembering the cold stare he gave. The way he looked at me with pure focus as I felt the waves of embarrassment overwhelming me.
“No, he didn’t kick me out. He made me leave, right in the middle of class, and go wait in his office.”
Zoe giggles. Now that she knows I’m not in any serious trouble, she is seeing the lighter side of the situation. She puts on a sing-songy voice, doing her best to win the prize for most immature college student.
“Called to the principal’s office. Olivia’s in trouble…”
“If you’re going to laugh, I’m not going to tell you what happened next!”
Zoe puts on her best serious face. Watching her trying not to laugh somehow makes the situation a little better.
“I won’t laugh, cross my heart.”
“Well, I was waiting in his office. By the way, did you know he was a competitive swimmer? He has a picture after a race.”
“That totally makes sense. He’s chiseled out of stone.”
“Well, so I was sitting there, and he comes in and basically tells me I have a lot of promise but I will never realize my potential if I can’t control my temper - don’t you dare nod in agreement - and that if I don’t want to be kicked out of class, I have to agree to some private sessions to teach me. Humiliating.”
Zoe holds her serious face for a second longer before it cracks into a smile.
“Maybe he’ll give you a spanking for being naughty, that might teach you!”
I throw my pillow at her, but her reflexes are too good. She catches it easily, but I hope it at least distracted her from the flush in my face as the ludicrous image of Professor Harrison’s hand slapping my bottom flashes through my mind.
I hate him, but I want him.
“I just hate how he talks down to me! He’s barely ten years older than me. And now I have to endure private sessions with him?”
“I bet half the girls in your class would kill to have private sessions with Professor Harrison. I know you cannot stand the guy, but from what I’ve seen he’s frigging gorgeous. Look, I’m on your side, Olivia. It sounds like he’s letting you off easy.”
A long sigh leaves me and I slump back in bed,
“Maybe you’re right. What a nightmare.”
Maybe I don’t want him to let me off easy… God, where did that thought come from?
Control
Olivia Abernathy - Tuesday Morning
It feels like everyone is looking at me as I sit in class. This is the first time I have arrived less than 15 minutes early. It was a struggle to get myself out of bed this morning, much less to class.
Why oh why does this class have to be Monday’s and Tuesday’s? The entire class has the memory of yesterday fresh in their minds. I won’t let it get to me. I’m still going to sit at the front of the class.
Changing spots would only draw more attention.
Whenever I hear the occasional hushed whisper or giggle, it feels like they are laughing at me. Steven sits down next to me with a sympathetic look.
“I was worried I wouldn’t be seeing you in this class again,” he whispers.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I put on my bitch face and look straight ahead.
Just great. Not only is my least favorite class Mondays and Tuesdays, now I get to look forward to more Professor Harrison on Wednesdays as well. What the hell does a private session even mean? It better not be more
insults.
Professor Harrison walks into the classroom through the side door attached to the lecture stage. He is wearing a blazer over a fitted dress shirt.
Now that I know exactly what’s under that shirt it’s impossible to look at the man without imagining it.
My eyes slip downwards to his dress pants where I can see the outline of his bulge.
Fuck. Don’t look there. Don’t remember the outline of his cock in his Speedo, the way the water dripped down his gorgeous muscles… focus, focus! Why does the most infuriating man in the world get to be so sexy?
He slides his briefcase on top of his desk and then hops up onto it, sitting and looking out at the class. He beams into an enormous smile.
“Welcome everyone. Last class, we covered overvalued stocks. Today I want to go into the process of acquiring a new business. What you need to look for before an acquisition, and some of the little things that may go unnoticed to the untrained eye.”
His voice is captivating. We all zone in on his every word. This time, there is no way I am going to miss a thing.
The court stays on the court.
The entire lesson, I am worried something bad is going to happen. Finally, as he is wrapping up the lecture his eyes find mine.
“Miss Abernathy, what kind of skeletons could be lurking in the closet of, say, a painting company?”
All eyes turn to me.
I take a second to perfect my answer.
“A painting company could have issues with health and safety in the past, including worker’s compensation claims. There could be pending lawsuits that a new owner would have to deal with once the business is transferred.”
He mulls over my words. I can tell he’s figuring out a way to make me look stupid in front of everyone, to find some flaw in my perfectly reasonable answer.
“A disappointing answer. You covered only the private sector. With a business like a painting company, you need to look deeper. That includes the company’s history with the state, government, and IRS before you can make a business decision. If you fail to do that, a sound investment can turn into a huge loss for you and your investors. Is that clear?”