Change of Course: A MM Professor/Student Novel (Change of Hearts Book 3)

by Sierra Hill

  “You’re funny and hot. I like that a lot.”

  The doors of his Tesla open automatically as we step up and we settle into the seats. There’s a heavy weight and atmosphere between us, a silence that grows like a garden of weeds. Too many questions surrounding us. What are we to each other? What does this mean? Why did I call my professor of all people to come and get me?

  We both speak at the same time.

  “Listen…”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I scoot around in my seat, one knee bent, touching the center console, his hand gesturing between us as it brushes and then stalls on my thigh. I inhale sharply and then stop breathing altogether, Lucas staring down at his hand on my leg before his thumb skims over the flesh, brushing lightly over the hair covering my shin. It sends electric shocks skittering up my spine. It feels so good. So right.

  Yet, we both know how wrong it is and where it will lead.

  As if reading my thoughts, Lucas snaps his hand away and places it on the steering wheel.

  He restarts the conversation. “Listen, Kyler. This thing between us isn’t going to stop if we keep ending up like this.”

  “Like what?” I dare to press.

  Lucas angles his head at me, his lips pinched, the lines of his brows narrowing.

  “You know exactly what. This is outside the boundaries of student and teacher. And definitely outside the bounds of acquaintances. It will look bad if anyone catches us.”

  I mouth a silent “O” and then hiccup, my stomach suddenly churning with acid, threatening to expel.

  He notices my discomfort, touching me lightly on the arm, but the connection gone within a seconds, like a butterfly landing and then flittering off.

  “Let me get you home, Monet.” He quirks an eyebrow and then turns to watch the road.

  I fall asleep within minutes, my stomach roiling and my heart aching for something I want but am not sure I can verbalize at this point.

  For Lucas to stay with me tonight.

  “Hey, Kyler. We’re here. Wake up.”

  Groaning, I turn my head away, keeping my eyes shut tight and curling up sideways into a ball hoping the voice will go away and let me sleep.

  A nudge on my arm startles me awake again but I ignore it with a groan. “Go away.”

  “Kyler,” he says, the voice soft and melodic. “It’s late. Let’s go.”

  I’m not sure how much time passes but suddenly his hands slip underneath my legs and back and I’m hoisted out of the car and whisked into my apartment. A hazy thought flitters in the recesses of my mind, wondering how in the world he knew where I lived, but I let it go.

  “Keys, Kyler. Where are they?”

  I mumble my response and I feel his hand slide inside my front pocket, awakening my cock when his hand grazes it accidentally. I hiss and moan, my arms tightening around his neck, face cradled in that notch of space that smells of spicy man and crisp, clean soap.

  My lips have a mind of their own, as I begin kissing and nibbling at that delicious patch of skin, loving the rasp of his moan as my tongue flicks across the whiskered jawline.

  Pussy Cat meows her protests as we enter the apartment, the only light coming from the light above the kitchen sink.

  “Which one is your room?” he asks huskily, halting in the darkened hallway.

  My hand flings out toward the left and he enters with ease, dropping me onto the unmade bed.

  Prying a heavy eyelid open, I find Lucas staring down on me with indecision creased into his forehead. His arms are folded over his chest, forearms exposed the way they always are to show off the veins that run the length and down to his knuckles. Those hands have brought me pleasure and also taught me a thing or two.

  I lift a heavy arm and extend it to him before I pat the bed next to me. “I want you to stay with me.”

  Lucas shakes his head. “No. I can’t. I came to save your drunk ass and now that you’re safe in bed, that’s where this ends tonight.”

  I’m not sure if it’s the sorrowful pout of my lips and the needy whine of my request, but he seems to relent just slightly.

  “Please, just cuddle with me for a little while. I need you. I’ll keep my shorts on.”

  I slip off my pants and shuck them to the floor, leaving me in my short briefs that fit me tight around the tops of my thighs, highlighting my very full erection.

  Sitting up, I pull my T-shirt over my head and fling it over the bed where it hits the floor on top of my pants. Then I slide under the covers, holding the corner up so my torso is exposed and I wait for him to make his decision.

  I can see all the thoughts race through his eyes as they drink me in, first focusing on my bulge that’s growing harder by the minute under his scrutiny, then drags up over my belly, up to my pecs and collarbone until finally landing at my lips. I lick them seductively, and with a bat of my long lashes, I close the deal.

  “Please, Daddy. I need you tonight. Just for tonight.”

  24

  Lucas

  Goddammit.

  Goddamn Kyler for being so fucking sexy that all my resolve flies out the window with the sexy purr of his and the way his pouty lips form over the words I long to hear.

  And let’s face it. I knew where this would likely end up when I went to rescue him tonight. I’m not that ignorant to my thoughts and desires.

  Now here I am, in his bedroom at midnight on a Friday night, Kyler offering his bed and pleading for me to stay. He’s not offering or suggesting sex, but the offer is just as appealing. I’m a human man. I miss physical affection and the human touch.

  Looking at Kyler, though, has my blood simmering on hot, shaking with the need to be wrapped up in him. My lungs seize and my pulse races at a frantic pace. I know what I’m going to do before the words leave my mouth.

  “Fine. Move over,” I urge, unbuttoning my shirt, yanking it off my arms, and folding it neatly on the bureau next to me. I hesitate with my fingers at my pants, aware that if this barrier is removed, it would be all too easy to want to do other things tonight.

  A sly grin slides across his mouth. “Are you scared I might want to suck your cock, professor?”

  I quirk an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”

  “Well, yeah, of course. But Scout’s Honor, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” He holds up his hand and three fingers to represent the peace treaty, and I chuckle.

  “You were never a Boy Scout.”

  Shedding the remainder of my clothes, I slide in next to him, the warmth of his body serenading me like a chorus of songbirds, licking my skin with the heat of a wildfire.

  “Flip over,” I say, motioning my hand for him to turn over and face the other direction so I can spoon him.

  “On my stomach? You dirty dog.” He snickers but complies, scooting his ass into the curve of my belly, hitting my groin. My hiss slithers out like a tea kettle whistle.

  “Shut up and go to sleep, Kyler.”

  He yawns. “For some reason, I’m wide awake now. You want to tell me a bedtime story?”

  “No, but you can tell me why that bouncer called you Monet tonight.” I pinch him on the soft flesh of his hip, and he wiggles and groans.

  “Hmm…next question.”

  I can’t resist, my fingers exploring spots along his side and ribs, torturing us both with my juvenile behavior. Kyler has a way of turning me into that lust-addled teenage boy again. The boy who was once so confused about who I was and who I was meant to be with.

  But with Kyler, I’m no longer confused. I know who I want to be with. Even if I can’t.

  Kyler wiggles against my stiff cock that’s hard as a pole and wanting something we both know we can’t have. But damn, the friction and pressure against me feels so good. I slide my hand up his chest and flick the piercings, the metal cold in contrast to the heat of his flesh.

  He moans. “Mmm…you better stop that, professor, or I might need you to make me come.”

  My hand flies off his body as if burned and I place i
t on my own hip to avoid touching him too intimately, his soft chuckle filling the room, the scent of his cologne, and the fabric softener from the sheets wafting between us.

  “Sorry.” My apology is a whisper. “I’ll be good, too.”

  There’s a brief silence then, both of us remaining stock still, not daring to move or press our luck.

  “You know I could probably seduce you, don’t you?” Kyler’s cockiness is utterly refreshing and honest.

  “I’m sure you could. But you won’t.”

  He draws in a ragged breath and exhales slowly.

  “Will you tell me why you haven’t come out? Why hide who you are to the world?”

  His question stuns me. It seems incongruent to our flirty playfulness and sensual vibe. A simple question with a complex answer.

  I start and stop before resuming again, uncertain exactly how best to answer it. So I go for the truth.

  “My family…specifically my grandmother. Very traditional. Very conservative. With expectations of her only grandson to marry a woman who can help the family’s rank in societal standings and the family’s business. Hoping to carry on the family name. And because I played college basketball, I couldn’t come out then, either. That was terrifying. And I guess now that I’m a professor, I’ve created an image that I can’t change. It’s too late.”

  Kyler shifts, turning to face me, his brows puckering. “It’s never too late to be who you want to be, Lucas. You deserve to be happy and love who you want to, openly and not hidden away like some dirty secret.”

  On its own accord, my fingers brush the floppy hair that’s drifted across his forehead and eyes, the soft texture melting in my hands. His sigh of contentment melting my heart.

  “Do I make you feel like a dirty secret?”

  He blinks and shrugs a shoulder. “No, not at all. Believe me, I’ve been treated worse.”

  His sad comment gives me pause. “Your ex?”

  Kyler snuggles in. “Yeah, Max wasn’t all that kind to me, but I was too young and impressionable to realize it until I was too far gone. But it did teach me a good life lesson and now I know what I don’t want.”

  Kyler moans and snuggles in further, as my fingers weave through his hair, stroking through it in a methodical manner. It feels so nice to give pleasure like this. It’s not sexual, but sensual and warm.

  “And what’s that?”

  “To feel obligated to someone else. To feel like I’m indebted to them.”

  I nod my head in understanding. “I understand that all too well with my family.”

  “Is that why you became a teacher?”

  I snuggle my nose into the base of his neck, my breath fanning over his musky-scented skin.

  “Something like that, yeah.”

  It’s quiet for a moment and I think he’s fallen asleep when he pipes back up.

  “You’re a great teacher. All your students love you. And it doesn’t hurt that you are the hottest professor in the department. I bet everyone fantasizes about you. Trust me.”

  My mouth draws near to his and I divert my lips at the last moment, avoiding his lips, lightly touching his cheek and then moving to his ear.

  “Do you fantasize about me?” My breath is hot against his neck and my cock strains between our bodies.

  “More than you want to know.”

  I slide my hand behind his head, cupping the scruff of his neck, squeezing tightly and then releasing, traversing down his smooth back until it lands at the top of his ass. I’m moving into dangerous territory, but I want to get my fill of him before I leave.

  To touch him one more time. Enjoy the way he squirms under my touch.

  “I do want to know.” My voice is a raspy, throaty croak. “But I shouldn’t.”

  I can’t allow myself to touch him, although my fingers scream with the need. Dropping my hand, I scoot back so my ass hits the edge of the bed, allowing room for our bodies to cool, avoiding the desire climbing hotly between us.

  “Go to sleep, Kyler. You can tell me some other time.”

  He reaches his hand out and glides his thumb over my knuckles slowly and seductively.

  “Will you kiss me goodnight?” he asks innocently enough, a wolf under his sheep exterior.

  I place a kiss on the tip of his nose. But as I pull back, he clasps my head with his hand, holding me there as his lips seek mine, a rough sound escaping my mouth at the same time his tongue sweeps inside.

  We kiss hungrily for a few minutes, each getting our fill of the forbidden. I have the willpower to end it. But not yet, I tell myself, as I fight for dominance and my tongue plunges past his to take over.

  Our bodies slide together with urgency and a fervent need to do what comes naturally, my own body reacting with eagerness, bolts of arousal shooting through me like lightning flickering over the mountaintops.

  I finally break the surface and let him go, turning to lay on my back, inhaling deep, calming breaths, as Kyler rolls into me, his arm falling over my chest, head resting comfortably at the crux of my arm.

  He sighs contentedly, as that same level of contentment steals over me. This is nice. Just being held. Having the willpower to rein in our lust and enjoy the non-sexual physical elements that we both seem to need from one another.

  “Thank you for tonight,” he says dreamily. “And for the kiss.”

  “You’re welcome. Goodnight, Kyler.”

  I kiss the top of his head as he dozes off and I lay awake for the next hour contemplating what to do about him.

  About this complicated and inconvenient thing happening between us.

  About my future and who I am and what I want people to know about my sexuality and preferences.

  Too many issues to deal with all in one night. So I allow my eyes to grow drowsy and my breath grows slower, as I finally succumb to sleep.

  25

  Kyler

  Someone put sand in my mouth. Or gravel. Either one tastes like grit and grime and a quick breath check tells me my morning breath smells like swamp ass.

  A sudden memory evacuates my foggy thoughts as I flip over on my side to check the bed next to me. It’s empty, but Lucas’s scent still lingers on the sheets. I grab the pillow, shoving my nose in to take a long, deep pull of his spicy, cigar and cedar essence, sighing dreamily at the knowledge he was really here last night, and it wasn’t a figment of my drunken imagination.

  Panic hits me in the gut, though, a tsunami out of nowhere when I remember Lucas showing up at the club to pick me up.

  I shoot upright in bed, the sheet dragging down my chest as I kick it off and stare down at my legs. The events of last night aren’t clear – or the timeline, for that matter. And now I’m worried that Lucas showed up before I finished my stage dance. Did he see my performance? Was he there to watch the audience of men beckon me forward with their money in hand, slipping it inside my brightly colored thong?

  My worry dissipates as I consider what Lucas would do if he did witness that?

  Nah, he’d be out of my life in a nanosecond if he saw what I did for a living. Lucas Mathiasson, the proper, serious professor who comes from a wealthy family high up on the food chain would never in a million years be caught dead with me if he knew my side gig.

  Oh shit. And what if someone from school saw us leave together last night? That would be disastrous for Lucas and his reputation at the university.

  I berate myself over my selfish stupidity as I throw off the covers and head to the bathroom, a myriad of questions swimming through my brain about last night. Did I say anything that acknowledged just how much I’m into Lucas? Will he look at me the same way?

  I take care of business weighing over all the facts. What I do recall is that Lucas did come for me last night after I texted him. He cared enough for me to do that.

  Two, I remember Lucas came to my rescue and protected me from that douchewad who thought I owed him something after we danced together. Lucas stood up for me when I needed him most.

  And t
hird, he cared enough for me to stay with me until I fell asleep. I don’t recall any of our conversations once we got home, but I remember his caress and his kiss. That one hot kiss that still lingers on my lips.

  Now I’m left to wonder where we stand? He didn’t stay over, and we didn’t sleep together, so he’s not willing to break the rules for me. Again.

  I should be grateful that he’s such a rule-abiding man, committed to his profession and remaining firm in his commitment to his word, practicing what he preaches. He’s honorable and has a high level of integrity.

  Combing through my bedhead hair with my fingers, I grimace at my reflection.

  “You fool. You always fall for the wrong guys.”

  “Brooklyn just texted and invited us to a pool party today.”

  Peyton pockets her phone and gets back to helping me bake a batch of my pumpkin spice cookies. I decided to ditch the homework that awaits my attention in favor of baking. My favorite hobby. Well, one of them at least, second to dancing and fucking.

  I glance up from where I combine the ingredients together, inhaling the rich spicy flavor of cinnamon and nutmeg. My favorites.

  “That sounds fun. I could use some relaxation today.”

  She shifts her hip to the counter. “I promised we’d bring some cookies to share since Garrett will be grilling.”

  A tight knot forms in my chest. “Um, did she say who was going to be there?”

  “Some of the guys from the basketball team, I think.” She lifts her shoulder in a shrug, returning to her task of removing the baked goods from the sheet, but gives me an empathizing smile. “I don’t think Lucas will be there if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  I waggle my brows suggestively. “I’m down with half-naked boys from the basketball team. Could it get any better? You better wear that hot little pink bikini of yours.”

  Her hand snakes out and she snaps my wrist with the spatula.

  “Ouch! What was that for?” I whine, licking away the crumbs left there on my arm.

  “You are a one-track mind, Kyler Scott. Do you ever not think about sex?”