Pleasing The Professor (The Professor's Student Series Book 1)
Page 2
My morning had been a complete mess with my flight being late, having to wrangle a taxi with all my things, and then everything that went wrong at the school before embarrassing myself upon arriving at Professor Kendall’s class. Tomorrow would be better, but first, food.
To keep my already low blood sugar intact until I found sustenance, I took a candy bar from the stash in my backpack. I always kept a few just in case.
I ventured out of my building and onto the streets of the town. There was food somewhere, though I couldn’t help but find myself distracted by the beauty that was the city of Oxford. The old architecture was nothing like I’d ever experienced back home, it was simply breathtaking. I could get lost in the city at any time and be entrapped by its beauty.
In fact, I eventually found myself lost, not knowing where my starting point was, with my stomach barking angrily with me for not eating during the day. Luckily, I spotted a tiny modern bistro across the street from where I’d found myself.
I jogged across the quiet street and slipped into the restaurant. The hostess was kind enough to seat me, and I peered down at all the choices on the menu when, at the next table, I spotted a familiar face.
Professor Kendall was alone at a small table similar to mine, tiny and square with a plain white tablecloth. He seemed to be nursing a glass of wine while he peered at a book. I didn’t want to disturb him, but suddenly his head jolted up, and his eyes met mine. A smile crept onto his lips, driving my instincts wild. What was it about him?
“Dora,” he hummed, almost as if he was singing my name. I gave a small wave in response. “Are you eating alone?” I nodded. “Please, join me.” He motioned to the empty chair across from him. I swallowed and obliged.
“Hello Professor,” I mumbled as I took my seat.
“Please, we are out of the classroom. Call me Ramsey.”
“Umm, okay, Ramsey.”
The professor was quick to take the attention of the waitress and inform her that I’d now be sitting with him, he also ordered himself another glass of wine as well as a glass for me.
“After the travesty that was your morning, how has the rest of your day been?” He actually seemed interested and wasn’t just asking to be polite. My heart was pounding again.
“Much better, I had time to unpack, and I did a little reading,” I answered him.
“What did you read?”
“I started To Kill a Mockingbird,” I informed him, only to bring a brighter smile to his face.
The waitress returned with our glasses of red wine, Ramsey thanked her. I also ordered my dinner, a simple steak, with fries, and a side salad.
“I like that, taking initiative.” I watched his pink lips as he took a sip of wine. I followed suit and took a sip of my own. A silence hung between us.
I stole a look at the book he had on the table. It was Of Mice and Men by Steinbeck. I wasn’t the biggest John Steinbeck fan, but I’d give anything a try at least once.
“Steinbeck. That’s 1930s, so I’m fairly certain we won’t be reading that in class,” I commented.
“No, not in this class, but I have another class that is loosely based around this book. There is still room if you’d like to participate,” he offered, and I shook my head.
“Sorry, I’m not much of a Steinbeck girl. Plus, I have my full plate this first term.”
He reminded me a lot of myself. I always had my nose stuck in a book while everyone moved around me. I couldn’t care less about anything going on when I was between the pages of a story.
Glancing away from the book, I spotted a smile on the edge of Ramsey's soft looking lips. When I’d been with him earlier in the morning, he seemed timid, maybe scared. Now he was relaxed. It was possibly the wine, allowing him to loosen up from Professor mode.
“What exactly brings you to England? In class, you mentioned wanting to teach when going back to the States. There are comparable schools there, why here?”
It was almost as if he was studying me, getting to know every tidbit he could learn. I gave a shrug before my answer. There was the simple cliffs notes answer, but there was also the long and drawn out story. I’d keep that to myself. Cliffs notes answer it was.
“I figured if I was going to study English Lit, why not study in the country where the English language originated,” I said offering him the same answer I’d given my parents when I told them I wanted to finish my degree abroad.
The honest truth was, I’d ran away from my old school. I could remember my mom going on and all about her college experience and how it was the best years of her life. Mine was the opposite and had become a nightmare fairly quickly.
I hadn’t been the most social girl and was a bit of an ugly duckling during middle and high school. My mom told me in college I’d learn to be social, and joining a sorority would be one of the best things I could do for myself and my future, she was dead wrong.
Going into school, I had found myself, a bit, while starting my freshman year. I’d grown out of the ugly duckling stage and found myself a swan, pledging for a sorority in a sea of swans who found everything to be a competition. I longed to make the connections my mom told me I’d make, and I assumed I had.
I honestly thought I’d been accepted and I belonged until that night. We’d been invited to a frat party. Our head of house was dating the head of house at the fraternity. He was one of those typical dreamboats. I found myself smitten but knew to keep away since he was very much taken.
Confiding in someone I thought was my friend, I’d told her about my crush. That turned into a prank that changed my life and my outlook on people. He flirted with me that night, and without my knowledge put something in my drink. The next morning all these photos surfaced of me, half naked in his bed. The girls had been in on it, making me out to look like some slut when I’d honestly only ever slept with two guys.
The photos made their rounds. I was pegged as a whore, as someone easy. I found myself taunted around campus and in my own residence. My nightmare had begun, and I was trapped in it. My first idea was to escape. I could always transfer to another school in the state or anywhere in the rest of the country, but I wanted to run as far away as possible. People had let me down in the most disgusting way.
England, why England? I honestly had no idea. There was my excuse of studying English in the place where the language originated. Though honestly, I decided England. Based on what I’d seen on television and in movies, the people seemed nicer and classier.
“I wish you luck in your studies,” Ramsey commented, snapping me from my painful memories.
My eyes shot up and into his. There was that intensity again, that burning fire that burned through me. I gave him a weak smile in response, my eyes fluttering down toward the table.
When our food arrived, I was grateful for the lull in conversation. He made me slightly nervous, but in a way, that made me want to spend more time with him. It was almost as if I was drawn to him.
“I hope you don’t find it rude for me to ask, why teaching?” Ramsey questioned as he set his fork down on his plate. I didn’t think anyone had ever asked me why before, I actually had to think about my answer.
“I’ve had some great influences growing up when it comes to learning and being in school. I don’t think I’d be who I am today without some of those teachers,” I explained happily. It was impossible to keep the smile off my face as I thought of those people who shaped my life with their influence. “May I ask you the same thing?”
“I suppose my answer would be similar. I had some brilliant influences, and I was able to see their passion for education. I knew I wanted to have a similar passion. There was no other profession for me, but teaching to give me that same drive and passion I saw in them,” he explained so eloquently.
As in class, I was drawn to his every word. His passion shone through everything he said in class and sitting in front of me. I said nothing, my chest moving up and down with each shallow breath, he took every bit of breath away from
me.
“Does your family support your dream of teaching?” he inquired.
“Yes, they’ve always been very supportive,” I gushed, thinking of my parents that I already missed dearly. I didn’t plan on seeing them again until summer break. It would be the longest timespan without my family. I knew I could survive, but doing so would be a task.
My family was slightly eccentric, leaving me as the least eccentric of the bunch. Since as long as I could remember, it was the five of us in our house, my grandmother, mom, dad, and little brother. Well, I remembered days without my brother, when I was an only child. As angry as I was when my parents announced to me I’d have a sibling, I was kind of grateful in ways, I learned so much from being an older sister. Damn, of everyone, I already missed my little brother the most, always coming in my room wanting to lip-sync pop songs, that kid, I loved him.
Ramsey and I both finished off our dinner, and he was kind enough to pay for my meal as a ‘Welcome to Oxford’ gift. We strolled out of the bistro together into the crisp night air. I hugged my sweater tight around myself and took in my surroundings.
“I wandered here. I got totally lost. I don’t even know the way back to my room,” I laughed at myself for getting myself incredibly lost on my very first day. Though oddly grateful, spending dinner with the professor was better than I’d expect. The man had a charm about him that drew me in and caused me to want to know more.
Ramsey burst into laughter at my admission. I was pulled into his light chuckle. It almost reverberated through my veins. I could hear the depth of it in his throat, while a lightheartedness shone through. I liked it. He placed his hand on the small of my back and began to lead me up the street. His hands on my body sent a fire blazing through me. I was scorching despite the cool night.
Having him so close, I could inhale his scent. It was warm like fall, a mixture of cinnamon and citrus. I could almost imagine cuddling up to him on a couch with a good book, next to a crackling fire, and inhaling his warmth. Where were, these thoughts coming from? I always knew I had an active imagination, but that seemed to be an understatement. It was funny since my experience with relationships was little.
His hand slipped down with each step. It was nearly on my round behind when we paused at a small, older model, black BMW, his car he’d given me a ride in earlier in the day. He at once removed his hand from me, sending a cool shock through my limbs as he opened the door and allowed me inside.
The drive back to my boarding house wasn’t long, and on the way, he pointed out a few landmarks that I kept in my mind to know my way around.
Every time he shifted gears, I swallowed hard, his hand so close to my legs. I was nearly holding my breath by the time we reached my building.
“You’ve already given me two rides today,” I said, shyly, looking out the window at the building I would be calling my home for the entire school year.
“Mmmhmm,” he answered, my eyes fluttering up toward his. I wanted him to kiss me so badly it hurt. What was wrong with me? I didn’t kiss my professors; I didn’t crave my professors so hard it burned through my core.
I took a moment to appreciate the scent of the interior of his car. I'd noticed it earlier when he gave me a ride. It was like old books, the smell that invades your nostrils and comforts you when exploring the stacks of an old library. That scent coupled with his warm cinnamon and citrus aroma, caused my core to ache.
His fingers brushed my face, moving one of my many stray curls from in front of my face. My heart nearly stopped at his skin touching mine.
Suddenly, the sexual, primal energy that filled the car dissipated as he moved his hand onto the steering wheel and shifted in his seat. I let the breath I’d been holding go.
“I’m sure traveling has been hard on your body. You should head up and get some sleep. I’ll see you at class in the morning,” he said as he peered at my building.
There was something about the way he told me to go get rest; it was as if he was instructing me and not suggesting it. Somewhere inside, I caught the need to follow his instruction as if it was required of me to do so.
“I will, goodnight, Professor,” I breathed as I opened my door and slid from the interior of the car out into the chilly air that shocked me back into my reality.
As I closed the door, he waved before speeding off down the lane, leaving me whiplashed from our shockingly intense moment together. Honestly, I’d lost my fucking mind, wanting him the way I did. It was so fierce. I knew I’d fail at fighting it. Fuck me.
Chapter Three
Ramsey
“You’ve already given me two rides today,” she looked up with those intoxicating eyes of hers. They were full of passion, and it took everything in me not to ask her to return the favor, as I pictured her riding me in the front seat of the car. Her hot pink bra and gorgeous mocha tits pressed against my face while we took each other hard and fast.
“Mmmhmm.” I had only just met her and Dora already had an unnatural hold on my libido, so much more intense than anyone else ever had.
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear as I stared at her. My fingers brushed her cheek, and her demeanor changed. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes glazed over, and her breathing became shallow. I jerked my hand back and shifted in my seat, to break the tension, and hide the problem growing in my pants. I had never been so glad for loose fitting trousers, as I had been today.
“I’m sure traveling has been hard on your body. You should head up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in class,” I growled looking at the darkening building, lights beginning to flicker on in the rooms. She’d pulled out my Dom voice. I was surprised, but knew better than to show it and kept a controlled look.
She followed my directions without hesitation, nor question. “I will. Goodnight, Professor,” she backed out of my car, shutting the door. I waved absently as I slammed the car into first, then second, trying to get away from Dora as quickly as possible. That girl was poison, and I wasn’t going to need Bell Biv DeVoe to tell me that. I could already feel her running through my veins.
She was lucky she had found me tonight. Or it could have been fate. Who was I to judge what had brought us together? The only reason that I was even at O’Neill’s is because today was my birthday, and I was treating myself to a night out.
It was something I didn’t get to do very often since I had been disinherited and cut off from my family. Not that that bothered me, I had hated growing up in that house. My parents were so full of themselves that they couldn’t even see the world around themselves, much less in front of their door.
I started to relax as I sped along the curvy road back to my home, the second time today no less, for a cold shower. This time, though, I didn’t have a class to rush back for, so I could savor this shower.
I pulled into my drive, turned my beamer off, and took a deep breath. Dora's scent instantly filled my lungs. Her floral, fruity smell was invading my nostrils. I sprung to life again, my cock hardening in a flash. I had two choices here, and neither of them benefited me. One, I could whack off in my car, which might get the police called. Or, I could hold my head high, adjust myself again, and walk—bolt—into my house.
I steeled myself as I opened the door to my car, and was greeted with the sweet smell of the lake and freshly mown grass. That was the best thing about this house, besides the number of rooms. I could swim whenever I wanted to. Grinning, I got out, slammed the door in frustration, and marched to my front door, listening to the whining and clawing from the other side.
Sue, my chocolate lab, probably wanted to go outside. He never could wait for me to get home and in the door. I had let him out earlier when I came home between classes, but he probably had to go again.
I opened the door, and Sue came bolting out like always, to his favorite tree in the front yard and raised his leg. He stood there for a good three to four minutes peeing, before sniffing around the yard to make sure no other dog had been
out there. He was a silly boy, and I loved him
I had been asked once when I adopted him from the shelter, why would I want to name a male dog Sue. I laughed at them and told them if they didn’t get it they never would. I loved poetry, humorous poetry to boot, and Shel Silverstein was a favorite of mine. And June and Johnny’s story had always been a sweet spot for me. I wanted a love like that someday. So, when I finally got myself a dog, I decided that no matter what, I was going to name him Sue. So, sure as shite, the day I found him, emaciated, needing someone to love, I filled out the paperwork. Where it said name, I said Sue.
Not a lot of people got it. Unless they were a Cash or Silverstein fan. I was okay with that. It was nice to have a little inside joke to myself.
Whistling sharply, I opened the door for the dog as he came sprinting through the yard, across the threshold, and slid across the linoleum floor. Laughing, I followed the clumsy dog, hoping at least today he wouldn’t crash into the wall, or break something.
I walked through the house, my hard-on having dissipated while waiting for Sue to come in from the yard. I found my mind wandering again, thinking about what had happened that day.
Dora … I loved how her name rolled around my mind. It was so basic, yet so interesting. Dorothy didn’t suit her at all. Dora … Dora did. I couldn’t wait to see her in class tomorrow, her sweet face smiling at me, unruly hair framing her face as it barely brushed her shoulders. I found myself wondering if she would wear another loose, revealing shirt tomorrow.
Moaning, I banged my head against the wall. I should not be having these thoughts about a student, but I couldn’t get her out of my head. Giving over to my imagination, I found myself downstairs in my playroom. I hadn’t been here in ages. Not since I had thrown everything, I used with Lena that fateful night, out.