Claimed by my Professor (Class is in Session Book 5)

by Remi Grey

  He took notice of me just as I was putting two and two together. His gaze sent shivers down my spine. Instantly, my heart thumped harder against my chest like a door that was begging to fling open. My yearning for him mixed with my fear for my own feelings, making my breathing come out in uneven huffs.

  "Whatever goal that you may have, whether that may be making an A, passing, or learning something new, know that if you try hard enough, whatever you want can be yours." He kept his eyes trained on mine as he spoke. The way he whispered the words in a low voice was making me wet. The beating under my waist was causing the thoughts in my head distort. Even though he was managing to drive me mad from the seat of a lecture hall, the idea of falling for him was a slap in the face.

  I grabbed my backpack and notebook and shot up from my seat. I didn't know what would happen if I stayed in this class any longer, and I didn't want to find out. Before he could react, I pushed the door open to the classroom and ran away from the idea of a future with him. The idea of shutting down something before it had the chance to flourish was nothing compared to how I’d feel if I was foolish enough to let him.

  Chapter 4

  Dexter

  I knew who she was as soon as she sat down. The woman at the club. I remember how it felt to be so close to her, so I couldn’t help but speak directly to her. In a way, it was my way of making up for the fact that we had so little conversation the first day we met. "Whatever that goal that you may have, whether that may be making an A, passing, or learning something new, know that if you try hard enough, whatever you want can be yours." I gazed into her eyes, thinking about how badly I wanted her. But, a quick shift to the rest of the students and the classroom surrounding us made me realize how awkward this could be.

  She jolted up abruptly, putting a halt to the thoughts running in my head, and flew toward the exit. There she was running again. The fact that she was in my class was not a coincidence. I couldn't let her get away again. I did the only thing I could do at the moment. I ran after her, forgetting that I had a class to start. I couldn’t let her slip away again. The chilly air hit me like a brick as soon as I stepped out of the building. I spotted her slowing down a few meters away and called out for her.

  “Wait!”

  It was like the club all over again. As frustrated as I was having to chase her down to get her to talk to me, seeing her again revived me. I wanted her. More than anything, I did, and I would chase her down as many times as I had to until I got her. Realizing that she was a student, I didn’t care. I wanted her.

  “Please, wait,” I said, stepping in front of her to get her to stop.

  “What?” she said exasperatedly. She threw her backpack over her shoulder and crossed her arms. She looked more hurt than angered by me. I wondered what had happened in her past for her to look at me that way.

  “I never got your name.”

  She sighed, thinking about if she should give it to me at all before saying, “Michelle.”

  I smiled softly at her. “Dexter. Erm, Dex.”

  She seemed unmoved.

  “Professor Abbot, what do you want? Am I not allowed to leave class as I please?” she asked with an eyebrow raised.

  “That’s not it. It’s just...my speech in there,” I started. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your success in this course because of me.”

  She laughed. “You’re giving yourself a lot of credit, professor.”

  The way she’d say professor rather than my name frustrated me yet turned me on. It didn’t help that her eyes were held over mine more challenging than annoyed. I wanted to accept, but I had to tread lightly.

  “Michelle, the other night,” I struggled about where to begin. “The other night. You can’t tell me that you didn’t feel that.” Her face softened at the thought. “I have never felt that way about anyone in my life. I have never run after a woman in my life!” I gave her a short laugh.

  “Michelle…” She looked up at me. Her eyes reflected so much pain. I wanted so badly to take it away. “Please, stop running for once. Give me a chance to prove to you that I’m not like the others.”

  Her eyes widened. “What makes you think--”

  “I can see it in your eyes,” I confessed. "I know I'm older, and now your professor, and it's different and scary, but I am willing to risk it all for you."

  She looked down. A quick glance up revealed that same sadness that lurked about whenever she let it. Then, it vanished, and anger took over her.

  “You don’t know me. We danced! Once. I’ve been in your class! Once. Barely… but now you think you know me,” she elaborated incredulously. “Funny. Professor Abbot, maybe you should get back to the students you abandoned for this… meeting. I'm sure they're wondering where you've run off to."

  And with that, she turned away from me to begin to walk off. I sighed, feeling just as drained as I did the night of the club, then backed away and headed to the classroom. My retreat wasn’t a surrender, but a moment for me to catch my breath and think of another way to get her to give me a chance. After all, there was nothing I wouldn’t do to achieve my goal.

  Chapter 5

  Michelle

  “I see you,” he said just as I was turning my back to him. I froze, immediately thinking back to the night at the club. Sure, I was a little wasted, but I had remembered these words as clearly as I would if I had been sober. Those were my words. I see you, and I'm not mad at all. I remembered being so entranced with the sight of him. Even though I didn’t know him, there had been something that drew me to him. Just like it was now. I shifted slowly to face him.

  “And,” he continued. “I’m not mad.” He gave me a soft smile. “I’m going to be at the coffee shop after class. The one near the bookstore, not the one in the union. That one’s always so quiet.”

  Usually, I’d have an answer to suggestions like this in my head already, but I teetered on the right one as he lingered his gaze over me. Was this some sort of date? A teacher-student meeting?

  “I hope to see you there,” he said before turning away.

  I was still waiting for the answer to pop into my head. No, it should have been. I am not going to this coffee shop. I am not going to give this the time of day. But instead, I started to wonder what it’d be like if I did stop by. Just for a second.

  I was alone in the courtyard. A few students walked before me, but otherwise, it was quiet. I could go home now that I didn’t have any more classes for the day, or I could get some lunch. They served sandwiches at the same coffee shop after all, so I’d be going for me. I started for the direction of the bookstore.

  Once I was inside, I ordered and sat down anxiously at a table against the wall, away from the more populated crowd. From here, I could see who came in and out before they’d notice me. I munched on my sandwich idly, looking down at the time on occasion. He’d be here soon, I thought as the time went along.

  “May I have a cup of coffee?” I asked at the counter after I had long finished my sandwich and thrown it away. I couldn’t look like I was just waiting for him. I looked over my shoulder, checking to see if he was anywhere near.

  “Here you go,” the woman behind the register said, handing me my order.

  “Thank you.” I settled into my seat again, occupying myself with cooling down the hot cup in my hands. I then brought the cup to my lips and sipped it softly as my eyes rose up to the entrance of the shop.

  Ding! The door sang as it was pushed open.

  It was him. He sauntered in with a pleasant smile, and his briefcase swung over his shoulder. My heart thumped eagerly at the sight of him. He greeted the cashier as quickly as he would a friend as he approached the counter. I could hear him ordering. He hadn’t seen me. With the coffee shop packed with the after-class crowd, I didn’t blame him.

  I sunk into my seat and sipped my coffee deliberately. Was I foolish to think I could play this off as a coincidence? He had told me exactly where he was going to be and when. So, no. What would I tell him exactly
? Did accepting this… mean I was giving us a chance? Was it even a date?

  “Michelle,” I heard from behind me. I looked up and saw him smiling at me. I tried to keep my eyes over his rather than letting it fall down to his chest, where I could see his muscles peeking out from his dress shirt. “Mind if I join you?” I was relieved at how casual he was acting about me being here. I nodded and watched him take his place before me.

  As he sat, a wave of him hit me, making my mind feel light. I took another sip of the coffee to distract me from how close he was. “How long have you been here?” I glanced up at him, contemplating how to answer without seeming like I had been waiting for him since the last time we had spoken.

  “Not long,” I said.

  “I ask because I don’t want to keep you too long. Not that you have to stay because of me.”

  “Of course,” I said softly.

  “It’s just nice, you know, to have you here.” His smile brightened his eyes and made the crow’s feet hugging them peek out. I could feel the apples of my cheeks heating up.

  “A professor was the last thing I thought when I met you that night,” I said. With the shop clearing out and leaving only a handful of people, I was freer to explore conversation with Dexter. “I mean, the way you were dancing and the way you let me dance on you,” I laughed softly. “Calculus professor was the last thing on the list.”

  “What did you think I was?”

  “I don’t know, maybe a firefighter or something considering how your friends looked, too.” I shrugged, making him laugh.

  “A firefighter? Damn, I’m actually flattered,” he replied with a smile. “You really think I look like I run into burning buildings.”

  “I mean, I can see it,” I said. I opened my mouth to say something but then shut it again. I can see you in the uniform. I can see your face darkened by the debris in the air, a determined look in your eye. I can see you being valiant. I couldn't say all this. I turned away from him, looking down at the coffee that was decreasing with every minute that went by.

  Chapter 6

  Dexter

  “The last thing I thought you’d be was my student,” I confessed. She had been fiddling with the mug on the table when she looked up at me. Damn, I loved those big brown eyes. “I thought,” I started again, shifting my eyes away from her in reflection. “I thought you were smart. A student about to graduate, one with big plans for herself. I thought you were kind. Your eyes seemed to radiate whenever you spoke. You seemed excited for a future that most would be anxious about. I thought you were beautiful. I still think you’re all these things.”

  She smiled shyly. “You’re really good at your job, Dex. Analytical of everything around you, huh?" she laughed, raising a smile in me.

  “I guess,” I admitted. “But sometimes, things are just easy.”

  She kept her smile playing on her lips as her eyes seemed to become distant. As her smile begin to falter, I wondered if I had said the wrong thing. If I couldn't make matters worse, I spoke up again. “I thought you were afraid.” She focused on me again. She hadn’t drunk her coffee in so long, surely it had cooled. “You seemed like something was holding you back that night. Sometimes, I still see that look.”

  She held my gaze but said nothing.

  “I’m good at my job. I'm good at figuring out people, and even though I know, you don't trust men or me in general because of a past relationship. I still can't figure out why you're sitting with me right now."

  She tensed up briefly then replied. “It’s because I want to trust you.”

  I tried to conceal my shock.

  “I really want to. But…” She shook her head and look down at the table. “This is so different. You’re a professor and I—” She glanced toward the shop for listening ears and then looked back to me. “I’m just trying to figure this all out. I’m trying to graduate without breaking my heart again. But…” She paused again. "But, I want you."

  My eyes widened. It was my turn to glance around the shop just as I took her hand into mine instinctively. She let me.

  “Then let’s try this. Let’s go on a real date, Michelle.”

  "Is this not sufficient?" she said, gesturing to the coffee shop. She was trying to make a joke. I laughed and shook my head.

  “The classroom is classier, I think.”

  “Ha-ha,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully.

  “But seriously, let’s do it. I'll call you, and we'll set something up."

  “You would need my number for that.”

  “You’re right,” I said, raising my phone up and handing it to her. She raised an eyebrow at me and then typed it in.

  “Since you’re so good at reading me, don’t mess this up,” she said. She was serious. A flash in her eyes revealed that same fear I had seen in her the night at the club.

  “I won’t,” I promised.

  Chapter 7

  Michelle

  I couldn’t focus in class the next day. Everything he did, everything he said, it made me want to jump up from my seat and please him the best way I knew how. He could feel it too. The way he stumbled over words, and repeated, basic concepts he had learned years ago made me smile. I could feel my body heating up as the class progressed. How he made derivatives sound so sexy was beyond me.

  His eyes found mine again as he reviewed the presentation slide, sending a chill down my spine and a heartbeat below my waist. I could feel myself getting wet as his eyes narrowed in on mine, unwaveringly. Fuck, I was having fun, but he was driving me crazy. I couldn’t stay in the classroom any longer if he was going to play the same game I was.

  I stood up, watching as his eyes widened in surprise, then leaving before I lose control over my own body.

  I headed to sit in my car, overwhelmed with all the events that were taking place. Dexter Abbot. Professor Abbot. Professor Dexter Abbot. Dex. No matter how I phrased it, it all seemed surreal. Flashbacks from me grinding on him at the club and seeing him in a dress shirt and slacks at the front of my classroom merged to create a confused state of mind.

  I let a few moments pass by when I heard a bell from my phone. Text notification. I would’ve ignored it if it weren’t for the sender. Dexter Abbot. I couldn’t help but open up the message.

  Michelle,

  You forgot your folder in class. As we don't have another class until next Tuesday due to the long weekend ahead, feel free to pick it up during office hours, which are every day from noon to two.

  Dex

  I shut off my phone. Damn it, how could I have forgotten my folder? Because I had items from other course assignments inside, I had to go and get it. I stood up and shut the door before running in the direction of the building. I found his office a few moments later. The class had just ended, and I could see through his slightly ajar door that he was settling into his seat. I knocked on the side to get his attention and watched as he raised his eyes to me and smiled.

  “Michelle,” he said as I walked in slowly. He had set the folder on the corner of the desk and was now extending it to me. “I wouldn’t want you to go a week without this.” I looked from the folder to him, at those green eyes that brought flutters at the pit of my stomach.

  I thought I couldn't find him any more attractive than when we were in the club dancing with each other. Still, it turned out that here in a quiet office with him seated behind his desk with a dress shirt and some gray slacks made my mind travel to a place where the desk wasn't separating us.

  “Michelle?”

  “Hm? Oh, right.” I remembered the folder and took it from his hand. “Thank you.”

  I got really quiet again. I wondered how long the logic of my mind could overcome the thumping in my pussy.

  “Michelle, are you alright?”

  I bit down on my lip and held the folder close to my body at the mention of my name. “Yeah, yeah…”

  He stood up from his desk and ambled toward me. His muscles tightened under his shirt as he took his place in few inches in fron
t of me, finding a spot leaning on the front of his desk. "Are you sure?" he asked, concerned. “Because you don’t look okay.”

  He had that low whisper he did sometimes. Although he may have meant to sound apathetic, every word he said managed to make me even hornier. “I…” I trailed again. My mouth was dry, my heartbeat against my chest, and the heat beginning to overtake my body made my palms feel sweaty.

  "I'm-I'm fine," I said, clearing my throat.

  He said nothing for a beat, instead choosing to gaze into my eyes, searching for an answer I didn’t have for even myself. Then, he said, “Talk to me. We can do that, right? We don’t have to wait until our date.”