The Professor (Enemies to Lovers Book 3)

by Lila Kane

  THE PROFESSOR

  _______________________

  ENEMIES TO LOVERS, BOOK 3

  LILA KANE

  THE PROFESSOR (Enemies to Lovers, Book 3)

  By Lila Kane

  authorlilakane@yahoo.com

  Copyright © May 2017 by Lila Kane

  First E-book publication May 2017

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental. Please respect the author and do participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

  CONTENTS

  ___________________________________

  Summary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Excerpt: The Neighbor (Enemies to Lovers, Book 1)

  About the Author

  Summary

  Professor Davin Holmes has never had a student as challenging as Savannah Peterson. She’s smart as a whip and one of the best students in class. She’s also sexy as hell. But Davin does the right thing and keeps his distance. Until they run into each other at the bar and one thing leads to another…

  Savannah appreciates that her professor challenges her, but hates that he won’t just cut her some slack. The highest grade in class should be hers, and he knows it. But after a few drinks and a night of flirting, hate turns into desire. Savannah is playing with fire and she’s about to learn Davin Holmes has a lot more to teach her.

  All books in the Enemies to Lovers series can be read as standalones. You’re guaranteed a steamy short story with lots of heat and a HEA

  Chapter 1

  ________________

  Davin

  He tapped his red pen on the edge of the paper, considering. B+ or A-? Savannah Peterson was one of his top students. Also one who didn’t push herself to her full potential. He knew she could do better. And if she wanted an A in his class, she needed that motivation. That push.

  Davin scribbled a B+ and grinned. She’d flash that dagger glare at him from her seat at the front, arms folded across her taut breasts. He couldn’t help but notice them—or her—as she was one of the most striking students he’d ever had.

  And one of the feistiest. She challenged him at every turn, almost as if she was trying to prove him wrong. She knew a lot about the literature, but he knew more.

  When his students filed in and he spotted her, he bit back a smile and prepared himself for a fight. Savannah never missed the chance to argue with a grade.

  He returned the papers one by one, putting them face down in front of each student. When he reached her, he tapped the back of the paper. “Almost.”

  She snatched the paper up, eyes scanning for the grade, and then gritted her teeth. He moved on before she could argue, unable to hold back the chuckle this time. A few other students around her laughed, used to their arguing.

  Savannah had been his class all year and she was this close to achieving the top grade. The other students knew it.

  Davin returned to the front of the class and began today’s lecture. He did his best to keep his eyes from Savannah, even though she looked amazing all fired up like that. He turned away from her. She was a student. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking of her like that.

  With a sigh, Davin finished the lecture and put Savannah out of his mind.

  <><><>

  He had office hours that afternoon, but no student meetings. That was a first. Usually he had a full afternoon.

  Davin returned a few emails, grabbed a soda from the refrigerator next to his desk, wishing for a beer instead, and checked the time. Only an hour until the end of the day and he could take it easy. Have that beer.

  “Professor Holmes.”

  His gaze whipped to the door, and he couldn’t help his body’s instant reaction to seeing her. “Ms. Peterson.”

  She folded her arms, just like he’d imagined earlier, and speared him with her gaze. “I don’t have an appointment.”

  He chuckled. “I’m well aware of that. I have some time if you need to talk.”

  Which he knew she would. He’d almost expected it. She’d either argue in class or set up office hours. But it was the end of the week, and she hadn’t had time for either. He had no doubt she’d want to get this dealt with before the weekend.

  She stepped into the room, the paper from earlier clenched in her hand instead of in the messenger bag slung over her shoulder. She set it on his desk. “I deserved an A.”

  “You got the highest grade in the class.”

  “And I deserved higher.”

  Davin sighed and gestured to the chair across from his. “Have a seat.”

  She arched a brow, looking like she might argue with that as well, but she finally sat.

  “I can see the work you put into the paper,” Davin said, folding his hands on the desk, “but I know you’ve got more in you. You’re one of the brightest students in class, and I feel like if you pushed yourself a little harder—”

  “I’m sorry for interrupting, Professor Holmes, but you have no idea how hard I’m pushing myself.”

  He leaned back in his chair and tried to read the expression on her face. She looked upset, sure, and argumentative like always, but there was something else. Weariness, maybe.

  “I see what you offer in class. I know there’s more.”

  Her jaw clenched. “I deserved an A.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He nearly chuckled at the surprise in her eyes. “I’ll let you rewrite the paper. Put that extra something in it—what I always see from you in class. And I’ll consider raising your grade to an A.”

  “An A+.”

  This time, he did laugh. He dipped his head in a nod. “All right. An A+.”

  “Good.” She stood, snatched her paper back, and shoved it into her bag. “I’ll have it to you next week.”

  “By Wednesday,” he said, standing as well. She looked tired, and part of him felt bad. If the extra few days helped, he didn’t mind. He wanted her to have that A+ as much as she wanted it.

  “Deal.” She held her hand out.

  He reached across the desk to shake it. Her fingers were long and smooth, cool. Part of him wanted to linger, to ask her about herself. About what she was going through. About why her eyes looked like she hadn’t gotten much sleep. Run his fingers up the inside of her wrist…

  But he pulled back like he was supposed to. “Have a good weekend.”

  “You too.”

  He watched her exit the office, his chest tight. Damn. If Savannah wasn’t a student…if she didn’t glare at him every single time she saw him…He laughed. Or maybe even if she did.

  Savannah seemed like the kind of woman who could handle herself. He could only imagine what she’d be like outside the classroom. What she’d be like in bed.

  Davin grunted and sat down, trying to get his dick to cooperate. It seemed like every time he was around he couldn’t control himself. She challenged him mentally, which was already enough of a turn-on, but he was fairly certain she’d challenge him physically as well and that made him so fucking hot, he couldn’t stand it.


  Good thing the semester was almost over. Then Savannah would be out of his class and out of his life.

  He just couldn’t decide whether that would make him feel better or worse.

  Chapter 2

  ________________

  Savannah

  Damn Professor Holmes. If he wasn’t the best teacher out there, she’d probably have dropped his class at the beginning of the year.

  And it didn’t hurt that he was sexy as hell. Younger than all the rest of her professors, smoking hot, and totally unaware of it. Or maybe he was and he hid it well.

  Screw that. It made it worse. Because every time she challenged him in class, he’d turn those steady brown eyes on her and she’d have to squeeze her thighs together tight in her seat. He didn’t look like he was listening to her so much as devouring her soul whole. His voice was so low and smooth it was like he was trying to hypnotize her.

  Then the asshole gives her a B+?

  Savannah swung behind the counter of the bar where she worked evenings most days of the week. If she wasn’t working, she’d have done a shot of tequila. Or two. Anything to get out her frustration.

  Not only did she have to do the paper over again, but she had to do it better. And in what spare time? She had to work the entire weekend, she had other papers. She had a life—sort of. Either way, she didn’t want to rewrite the paper. But she couldn’t afford to get anything less than an A+.

  “What crawled up your ass?” Spencer asked.

  Her gaze whipped up. “God, Spence. I didn’t see you there.”

  “Too busy slamming things around.” He nodded, stepped back to let her through. “Spill it.”

  Savannah grabbed four shot glasses, filled them, regretted again that she couldn’t have one of her own and sighed. “Professor Holmes is being stingy with his A’s again.”

  Spencer grinned. “Professor McHottie? It’s been a while since you talked about him.”

  “It’s been a while since he’s pissed me off.”

  Which was entirely untrue. He pissed her off pretty much every week, but she kind of enjoyed their debates. At least he was stimulating her mentally.

  She rolled her eyes. He was stimulating her other ways, too, but she tried not to think about that. He was her teacher. And she hated him on a regular basis.

  “But, like…” Spencer shrugged. “Doesn’t him pissing you off make it even hotter?”

  “Make what hotter?”

  Spencer frowned. “Your corner table is eyeing you. Better get them their shots before they freak.”

  Savannah brought the shots to her table and gave them her most charming smile. The one she usually reserved for Professor McHottie when she needed him to up her grade. Sure, it was a low move, but come on—the guy knew she deserved it.

  So she took it easy with this paper. Sue her—she had things to do. She’d been running on four hours of sleep when she wrote the thing and she’d still killed it. Why couldn’t he just take his dumb red felt pen and write A+?

  “Are you ready to order?” Savannah asked the group of girls.

  It was clearly party night for them, as they were dressed in their skimpiest clothing, with a ton of cleavage and probably a ton of ass. None of them had gotten up yet, but she’d no doubt those skirts barely covered their butts.

  To each other own. If Savannah had more time, she’d probably be out living it up, too. She might even have a boyfriend.

  “We need more time,” one of the girls said loudly. The others nodded in agreement. “More time!”

  Savannah smiled at them again. She needed good tips, so regardless of how out-of-control they got, she’d grin and bear it.

  Once she returned to the bar, she dodged Spencer as he poured two beers from the tap and slid them across the counter.

  “Where were we?” he asked. “Oh yeah, Professor McHotness and all his…attributes.”

  “You were talking about that, not me.”

  Spence rolled his eyes. “What? You’re telling me you don’t think he’s the finest thing you’ve seen since Channing Tatum?”

  Spence had great taste. Too bad he played for the other team. “I mean…sure, he’s cute. In a scholarly way.”

  “Cute?” He choked on a laugh. “Cute is puppies and rainbows and those red shoes you wore last week. The ones with the straps—”

  “Yeah. Those were cute.”

  “Professor McBigPackage is not cute. He’s…divine. He’s couture. He’s Swarovski. He’s…perfection.”

  Savannah nodded at a couple who sat on the other end of the bar. She slid them menus before returning to Spence. A loud pop song started up and she raised her voice to be heard over it. “If you like that sort of thing.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I didn’t say that. It’s just…”

  Spencer frowned. “What? You’re not a kid. Neither is he. Do him.”

  “He’s my teacher. There are still boundaries.”

  “Why? He’s obviously not playing favorites and giving you the best grade in class. He can be grown-up about it.”

  Savannah bit her cheek. “Technically I do have the best grade in class. Or I will after I redo this paper.”

  “So he’s playing favorites? Because he could do far worse, honey. You’ve got legs for days and more class than those four put together.” He nodded to the group of girls in the corner.

  “I bet you ten dollars one of them falls off her chair by the end of the night.”

  Spence shook his head. “Hell no. It’s guaranteed one of them will fall of the chair. I’m not taking that bet. I need my money—I’m saving up for a new jacket. Anyway, if Professor McSweetAss isn’t looking your way, he’s blind.”

  She laughed. “You sure do know how to charm a lady.”

  “You’re changing the subject. You can’t tell me you don’t think he’s finneeee.”

  “Sure. He’s all right.”

  Spence crossed his arms. “All right? Try again.”

  “All right!” Savannah laughed and reached for more shot glasses because she knew she’d need them soon. “He’s fine. Okay? He’s so fucking hot, I dream about him with his scholarly glasses and a book of Shakespeare, trying to get me all worked up with iambic pentameter.”

  “That’s hot. You’d totally do him.”

  “Yes, I’d totally do him. If the semester was over and I ran into him out on the street somewhere, I’d say, ‘Professor Holmes, you’re great in the class room, but I bet you’re even better in the bedroom. I’m sure you have a lot to teach me.’”

  Spence’s eyes lit with laughter. “There’s only three weeks of classes left. You should do it before then.”

  “Uh huh,” she said with a challenge in her eyes. “It’s happening next time I see him.”

  Spencer grabbed her arm and pulled her to his side. “I’m glad you said that, because now’s your chance.”

  Her head jerked up, and she spotted him. Professor Holmes. He sat in a booth in the corner, his hair mussed from the window outside.

  As if he felt her eyes on him, he turned. His gaze locked on hers.

  Then his lips curved into a slow smile.

  Chapter 3

  ________________

  Davin

  When he’d seen her through the window, carrying a tray of shots to the table in the corner, he’d almost turned and gone the other way. After all, he just wanted a beer. There were a dozen bars in this area and he didn’t need to walk into this one.

  But he couldn’t help himself. Savannah Peterson was like a magnet. A magnet of fire, that wouldn’t seem to let him go no matter how much he knew he’d get burned. So he’d walked in. He’d taken off his jacket. And he’d caught her eye.

  Fuck. She looked like she belonged here. Dark booths and sultry music. In fact, the only thing ruining the mood were the group of women in the corner acting like they were at a bachelorette party in Vegas. He was pretty sure he’d already seen more ass than he expected tonight.

  And really, t
he only ass he wanted his eyes on was forbidden.

  But, damn, she made it hard.

  Savannah whispered something to the guy next to her at the bar, shook her head, then crossed her arms. Shit. She was probably trying to get the other guy to serve him.

  Davin didn’t blame her. They were supposed to have a purely professional relationship, right?

  He shifted in his seat. There was nothing professional about the way his cock twitched in his jeans. More than anything right now, he wanted to walk straight to Savannah, take her arm and lead her to her car.

  He’d leave work and grades out of it—and he was sure she could too. It’d be purely physical. Purely pleasurable. And then…

  Then what? He’d be screwed the next time he saw her class. Already, he barely thought of her in a scholarly way. Not with mile-long legs, a sexy tumble of curls, and clothes that fit her curves to a tee.

  After another moment of arguing with the guy at the bar, Savannah turned in his direction. Her steps were sure, hips swaying to the beat of the music as she walked to his table.

  “Professor Holmes,” she said.

  Even her voice made him hard.

  “Ms. Peterson. I didn’t realize you worked here.”

  “Now you know.”

  No wonder she’d acted like she didn’t want to redo the paper. Sure, he got that it was a hassle. But even more so if she had a job. He wondered how many hours she worked. The tired eyes made sense if she worked nights here.

  “What’ll you have?” Savannah asked.

  You. “Whatever’s on tap to start. And I’ll take a menu.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “You sure?”

  “About whatever’s on tap or the menu?”

  “I just figured you for a wine or whiskey kind of guy. I’ll get you that menu.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but she already turned and walked the other direction. What the hell was that supposed to mean? That he wasn’t predictable? Because he could handle that. He knew he was younger than the rest of the professors here and students didn’t look at him quite the same way.