Even Jamie and Alaric have shot him some questioning looks.
I’m trying not to be bothered by it, but the way he’s blatantly interrupting my class at any opportunity is pissing me off.
As everyone works quietly, I walk around, answering questions anyone might have.
They should all be reading the chapters I’ve asked them to go over, so there shouldn’t be any reason to be writing things down apart from a note here and there.
So when I look over to see Tatum hunched over, working away on something that isn’t the class assignment, I find myself at my wits end with this alpha. My mate or not, he is not exempt from doing the required class work.
Heading over to Tatum’s desk, I cross my arms and glare down at him. “Whatever you’re working on must be so important if it’s taking priority over your class work.” My voice rings loud through the silent classroom. “Care to show the class what is more fundamental than the work I’ve assigned?”
Tatum’s eyes flick up to mine, his scowl firm on his face. But my heart starts to race as it turns into a menacing smirk. “By all means, Professor Kennedy. If you’d like me to share with the class, I’m more than happy to.”
He straightens up in his chair, pulling his arms away from his paper. I glance down and my eyes widen when I see what he’s been doing.
There’s a drawing on his desk, but not just any drawing. It’s an insanely detailed sketch. Not just any sketch, but a very graphic one. Of me and him.
He’s on his knees, my cock buried down his throat.
My lips part, breath caught in my throat as my fists clench at my side. Snapping my mouth closed, I bite the inside of my cheek, praying the pain keeps my damn fucking dick down.
Tatum begins to lift the sketch up, but I snatch it out of his hand, heart pounding out of my chest. “Enough drawing, Mr. Walsh. Do the work I’ve asked of you.” I clear my throat.
“Of course, Professor.” He purrs. “But are you sure you don’t want to show the class my drawing? I’ve worked very hard on it. Very. Hard.”
Pulling my gaze away from his, I head back to my desk, praying no one can see how frazzled I am.
This is going to be one long fucking semester. If they want to continue to take any more of my classes, I’m going to have to have a talk with them about what’s appropriate and what's not.
A pornographic drawing is indeed not appropriate.
“Back to work,” I tell Tatum as I sit down in my chair and place the drawing in my desk drawer.
He glares at me, grumbling something under his breath before opening his textbook.
The thing is, Tatum doesn’t have to do the class work, not really. He’s already acing this class. Part of me wonders why he’s even here. Maybe it’s to be closer to his pack mates.
For the next half hour, everyone reads in peace. I try to concentrate on my work, but I find myself opening my desk drawer to sneak a peak of the drawing.
Finally, class is over and I feel like I can breathe.
“Have a good day.” I tell the class. “See you all again soon.”
Everyone starts to gather their things and leave, but it’s Tatum who is shoving his books into his bag like the thing offended him before shoving out of his seat and storming out of the class.
My brows furrow as I watch Jamie and Alaric rush out after him, a look of concern on their faces.
It takes everything in me not to follow after them.
Tatum is upset and I find myself wanting to know why. Is he mad at me? Was calling him out in front of the class a step too far?
No. I’ve done it before and they just smile, not letting anything get to them.
So why now? What's going on with him?
It feels like a lifetime before the last student is out before I can grab my things and head out, locking the classroom behind me.
When I’m in the hall, I pause, wondering what I’m going to do next? Do I try to find them, to see if everything is okay. Do I text the group chat and check in?
