Filthy Professor: A Bad Boy Professor Romance

by Amy Brent

  My phone buzzed. It was Logan calling. I sent the call to voicemail. A few minutes later, I listened to the message: Hey, it’s me… I have good news. Guess I’ll just tell you about it when you come to class. I… I’ll see you soon.

  I listened to the message with tears in my eyes.

  I listened to it again.

  And again.

  He sounded so happy.

  So relieved.

  I deleted the voicemail.

  An hour later, my phone buzzed again, this time he had sent a text: hey r u ok?

  My fingers hovered over the tiny keyboard for a moment.

  I read the text again.

  I didn’t know how to answer the question because I didn’t know if I was okay.

  My phone buzzed again.

  It was my mother calling.

  “Fuck,” I said, wiping my eyes. I took a deep breath and forced myself to answer the call.

  “Hi, mom… yes… I know… you’re right… I was just getting cold feet… I know… I love you, too… hey, I was thinking about skipping graduation and coming home now… yes… it’s just a formality… they can mail the diploma to me… no, it’s not a big deal… okay… I’ll book a ticket now and see you soon… okay… I’ll email you my itinerary… okay… I love you, too.”

  I hung up the phone and blew out a long breath.

  Mom was right.

  I couldn’t let my infatuation with Logan Clark change the course of my life.

  We used each other, we had a good time, and now it was time to move on.

  I opened my laptop and booked a flight home.

  Courtney

  One month later… Chicago…

  “Hey, Court, how is the Burnham Financial audit coming?” Earl asked, standing in the doorway of my tiny office on the twentieth floor of the Rand Building in Chicago. The office was small, but I had a spectacular view of the river. I looked up at him and smiled.

  “It’s coming along fine,” I said. I spread out my hands at the stacks of files on my desk. “I should have the final report for you by Monday afternoon.”

  Earl rubbed his hands together and gave me a fatherly grin. “Excellent, I’ll let them know.” He started to leave, but turned back with a finger sticking in the air. “Oh, your mom is cooking spaghetti Friday night. Can we expect to see you there?”

  “Of course,” I said, mustering a smile for his benefit. “You’re just a short train ride away.”

  “Fantastic,” he said, checking his watch. “It’s almost six. You should get out of here.”

  “I will. I’m wrapping things up now.”

  He blew me a kiss and disappeared down the hallway.

  I thought about working for another hour or two. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do. I could go to my apartment and unpack boxes, I supposed. Or grab a bite at one of the restaurants between here and there. No, scratch that. I hated to eat alone. I always felt like such a loser.

  I stared at the stack of files for a moment, but decided I’d had enough. I shut down my computer, switched off the light, and headed for home.

  Courtney

  I changed into a pair of baggy sweat pants and a Golden State t-shirt, then padded barefoot into the kitchen of my new apartment to forage dinner from the fridge.

  I opened the fridge to find that it contained half a leftover pepperoni pizza and three bottles of beer. My mother would have been horrified by my lack of planning and domestic skills. Her fridge was always overflowing with things to eat. I barely had enough food to keep a bird alive.

  I microwaved the pizza and popped the cap off a beer, then sat down with a legal pad and pen to work up a grocery list as I ate. I was halfway through the first slice of pizza when the doorbell rang.

  I rubbed my greasy hands on the legs of my sweats as I went to the door. I leaned in to look through the peephole. My breath caught in my throat. On the other side of the door stood Logan Clark.

  Logan

  When Courtney opened the door, she looked like she was seeing a ghost. I gave her my best “SURPRISE!” smile and said, “Hi, Courtney.

  “Logan, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I was just in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by,” I said. “It took me three planes, an airport shuttle, and a taxi to get to the neighborhood, but here I am.”

  She leaned against the door and blinked at me. I couldn’t tell if she was happy to see me or not. “I don’t understand. Why are you here?”

  “I just needed to know what happened,” I said, letting my shoulders go up and down. “I’m not here expecting anything. I just need to know what I did to drive you away.”

  * * *

  “You didn’t do anything to drive me away,” Courtney said after letting me in and leading me to the sofa. I sat on one end, she sat on the other.

  “Then what happened?” I asked. “Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”

  Her beautiful eyes closed and she took a quick breath. She opened her eyes and spoke quietly. “I had my whole life planned out, Logan. I couldn’t let what happened between us change that. I thought it would be easier for both of us if I just left. I also didn’t want to get you into any more trouble or give you a reason to make a decision based on what happened between us.”

  “Why did you think I would do that?” I asked. “I mean, we had one amazing night together, and seemed to enjoy each other’s company, but I had no expectations. We were just getting to know each other. It never occurred to me that you would change your plans for me.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “You weren’t having… feelings for me? I mean, I got the impression from your voicemail… shit… did I misread things that badly?”

  I hadn’t come this far to lie to her. I said, “I won’t deny that I was incredibly attracted to you, or that I wanted to spend more time with you. I mean… I might have been feeling something… I mean… I wasn’t in love with you then…”

  Her mouth slowly opened. “Then?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn’t ease the tension that I felt in every muscle of my body. I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in a month. Things seemed so much easier when I was stoned.

  I said, “I’m not saying that I’m in love with you. And I’m not saying that I’m not.”

  Her eyes softened as they went around my face. “Then what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I can stay in Chicago for a month before I have to be back at work,” I said, giving her a hopeful look. “Maybe we can spend some time together, get to really know one another. Now that we aren’t governed by some silly rule about fraternizing with a student.”

  “So you want to fraternize with me as an adult,” she said, her lips curling into a smile.

  “Yes,” I said, holding out a hand and praying she’d take it. “I’d like that very much.”

  She slipped her hand into mine and smiled.

  “Very well, Professor Logan. Fraternize away.”

  Courtney

  Logan took my hand and pulled me across the couch. I pressed my lips to his as we tore at each other’s clothing; kicking off shoes, tugging shirts over heads, pushing pants and underwear down legs.

  When we were naked, he leaned back on the couch with his big cock sticking straight up like the mast of a great ship. I sat next to him for a moment, our tongues dueling, his fingers dipping into my flowing pussy, my fingers wrapping around his cock.

  I pumped him for a minute, then he put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me over on top of him. I straddled his legs and put my hands on his shoulders.

  He held his cock steady as I slowly lowered my pussy onto him. The moment the head of his cock hit my opening, I nearly came. My juices washed over him like a hard rain, soaking his cock and balls, lubricating his way inside me.

  Logan put his hands on my tits and I rolled my hips back and forth, milking his cock back and forth, rolling my tender clit over the top of the shaft. Sparks of lightning shot through me.
I dug my fingers into his shoulders as he tweaked my nipples and buried his mouth into my neck.

  “God… I missed you…” I moaned. My body tingled as my pussy tightened around him. The orgasm was coming quickly. I could feel him in cunt, my chest, my throat, my heart, my mind.

  “I’m cumming…” he moaned, moving his hands to my hips to rock me faster over his cock. The muscles in his shoulders rippled as he threw back his head and howled. “God… Court… cum…”

  I closed my eyes and rode him like a bucking bronco, taking his cock in as far as it would go before letting it slide out. My clit vibrated over the shaft. I curled my toes and dug my teeth into his shoulder.

  “Logan… oh… god… Logan...”

  Our bodies tensed together for a minute, then relaxed.

  I leaned forward with his cock still inside me and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “I’m so glad you showed up,” I said, smiling, nibbling at his ear. A sudden thought made me frown. I pulled back to look him in the eye. “How did you find me?”

  He smiled. “Your friend Mindy came to my house,” he said. “She seemed worried about you, moving to the big city all alone.”

  “Really?” I grinned. I still talked to Mindy almost every day. She was now my remote shrink. “And she said you should come check on me?”

  He shrugged with his eyes. “She just said if I was ever in Chicago I should look you up. She gave me your address. She thought you might be glad to see me.”

  “Well, she was right,” I said, pressing my forehead to his. “That Mindy, she always knows how to make me feel better.”

  “And do you feel better?” he asked, gazing into my eyes.

  “Yes, Logan, I do. Now shut up and kiss me again.”

  EPILOGUE: Logan

  I never returned to California. After a month, I called Martha Warner and turned in my resignation. Then I called Tom Brooks and told him he could have my motorcycle if he would clean out the bungalow and just donate everything to charity.

  I had no reason to return.

  Everything I cared about was right here, right now.

  Courtney worked during the day while I sat at her apartment and worked on my new book.

  Yes, that’s right, I was writing again, after nearly twenty years.

  I had saved enough money to live for a couple of years, so Courtney convinced me to take time off to write a book.

  It was a love story about an older man who was stumbling blindly through life, and the younger woman who took him by the hand and heart and showed him the way to happiness.

  It was an easy book to write because it was the story that I was living every day.

  Now, if I could just get Courtney’s mother to like me, all would be right with the world.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading FILTHY PROFESSOR. Please refer to the table of contents to see what you want to read next. (Warning: there’s a ton of steaminess waiting to be read!!!)

  Sports Secret Baby Romance

  THE QUARTERBACK’S SECRET BABY

  Chapter 1

  Amanda nearly dropped a tray of dirty dishes when an old man pinched her ass as she walked by. She ground her teeth and shot him a glare, but she kept her mouth shut. She'd complained to the boss on more than one occasion about the behavior of the customers, but Spiro didn't care about anything but the restaurant's sales at the end of the day. If a customer kept coming back week after week and spending money, then he wanted that customer treated like gold.

  Not that the assholes who treated her like a piece of meat ever tipped well. She'd be lucky if he left her a dollar on the table after he left. But Spiro only cared about the amount of money he made, not what his staff made.

  She dropped the dirty dishes off in the back, then printed out the check for one of her other tables. She took the long way around to drop off the check, so she could avoid walking by the perv's table again. She also noticed the perv's drink needed to be refilled, but as far as she was concerned, he could wait. Maybe if she gave him bad service, he'd stop coming back. Spiro would complain about losing a customer, but Amanda had better things to do with her time than be manhandled by someone who didn't even tip.

  She dropped off the check at the other table. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked, keeping her fake smile on her face.

  “You can give me your phone number,” the man said, winking at her.

  Amanda rolled her eyes. Max was one of her regulars, and while he never got handsy with her the way some of her other customers did, he was relentlessly hitting on her. But he was at least friendly about it, and he never took it the wrong way when she shot him down, so she tried to at least have some fun with it. “My phone's probably getting shut off next week, Max,” she said, giving him a playful smirk. “Tell you what, wait until I win the lottery, then we'll see.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “You either make too many calls, or you're not being paid enough here.”

  “Little of both,” Amanda said. “Mostly the latter.”

  She flashed him a genuine smile as she took his empty plate. Max, at least, was a decent tipper.

  She took a quick glance at her other tables. Aside from the perv needing a drink refill, it looked like everyone was doing fine. She'd have just enough time to slip out for a quick smoke.

  She kept an eye out for Spiro as she cut back through the dish room and out the back door. The boss didn't much care for his employees smoking on the clock. But Spiro only paid her $2.13 per hour, which was the minimum wage when you earned the rest of your pay from tips, so she didn't really care what he thought. She ducked behind the dumpster, trying to ignore the smell as she pulled out her Parliament Menthols and lit one up. She never smoked at home, because she didn't want to expose her son to secondhand smoke, which meant she had to get her fill while she was at work.

  While she was smoking, and dreading the next three hours of her shift, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw it was a text from her friend Michelle. She almost ignored it. Michelle had been a real party girl ever since high school, and had only gotten worse when she moved away for college. Whenever she stopped back in town during a school break, she wanted to go out drinking and cruising for guys. Amanda didn't have the time, between working two jobs and taking care of her son, for that kind of life. As much as she felt like a jerk for ignoring Michelle's texts half the time, she knew she just couldn't deal with being dragged out for a weekend of partying.

  She read the text, already composing a response in her head. She needed to make a good excuse in order to get out of going drinking without hurting Michelle's feelings in the process. Though when she read the text, she nearly dropped her phone.

  Hey, Mandy! You need to clear your plans for the weekend. I'm coming home, and guess what? I'M GETTING MARRIED!

  Amanda was still staring at the text, trying to process it, when her phone buzzed again with another incoming text.

  You'll be there, right? Promise you will! I need my bestie there as my maid of honor!

  Amanda held her cigarette between her lips and typed out a response. She didn't see how she could get out of going to her friend's wedding, especially if Michelle wanted her to be maid of honor. Her head was spinning as she typed out her response: Holy crap! Since when are you getting married? Why such short notice? Of course I'll be there.

  Just before Amanda headed back in to check on her tables, she got another response from Michelle: Long story, I'll explain when I see you. But Blake only has this weekend available, so it has to be now. OMG! I'm so excited! See you soon!

  Amanda tucked away her phone and went back to check on her tables. The man who'd pinched her started complaining about how he'd been waiting ten minutes to have his drink refilled. She muttered a completely insincere apology and went to fetch him a new Coke. Then she finished clearing off Max's table, and stopped, stunned, when she saw the tip that he'd left.

  It was a $50 bill. She knew Max had decent money—at
least, compared to the usual crowd that came into the diner—but he was never this generous. She immediately felt a surge of guilt about her lie about her phone being shut off. Her bills were tight, but not so tight that she couldn't keep up with them, albeit barely. Max must have taken her excuse to get out of giving him her phone number as a genuine plea.

  She pocketed the money, trying not to feel guilty about it. Though she immediately felt better when the perv at the next table only left her seventy-eight cents. She'd earned Max's big tip, if only because she had to put up with so much shit from the rest of her customers.

  When her shift was finally over, she took the bus home, then stopped by her neighbor's apartment to pick up her son, James. Mrs. Carter was a stay at home mom, and she watched James for free, in exchange for Amanda watching her son a few times a week so Mrs. Carter could run errands or have a night out with her husband.

  “Come on, kiddo,” she said, taking James's hand. “Time for dinner.”

  “But I don't wanna go,” James said, stomping his foot.

  Mrs. Carter shot Amanda an apologetic smile. “He's been in a mood today.”

  “I have not!” James protested, stomping his foot again.

  “I'm sorry, kiddo,” Amanda said, scooping James up and holding him against her hip. “You can come back and play tomorrow.”

  James made a frustrated sound as she carried him down the hall to their apartment. She set him down on the couch and did her best to clean the place up a bit before dinner. The apartment was eternally a mess, and she had long since given up on ever getting it truly clean. She just tried to maintain a certain level of disarray.

  “What do you want for dinner?” she asked as she looked through the cabinets.

  “Pizza.”

  “We don't have pizza,” she said. She considered using Max's $50 to order out, and save herself the hassle of cooking, but she really needed to put it towards paying off her credit card. “How about pasta? That's Italian, too.”