Had Jace accidentally turned it back on?
“The answer to your question is pretty complicated,” I began, somehow keeping my voice level. “There are a few scenarios where thatcanhappen, but they’re rare. For example…”
Teaching class while a vibrator pulsed inside my pussy was one thing. Having a one-on-one conversation with a student was a different matter entirely. I felt almost tipsy, my mind just a little more sluggish than normal.
Out in the hallway, Jace slowly walked by. Slow enough to glance inside and give me a satisfied smirk.
Oh, you’re evil.
Fortunately, he kept the vibrator at the lowest setting. I was able to answer Brock’s question and the two follow-ups he asked.
“Hopefully that makes sense, but if not, I can address it in class on Friday,” I said with a note of finality. “If there’s nothing else…”
But Brock didn’t leave his chair. He leaned forward and said, “Kayla said you were asking about me. At the bar last Friday.”
“Oh. Right. I, um, went there for my end-of-the-week drink routine. Her fancy gin and tonic wasn’t as good as yours.”
“I like hearing that. I’ll be there every Friday from now on. You don’t have to worry.”
He smiled at me, and it was impossible not to feel drawn to him. Brock was only two years younger than me, and he had this quiet confidence that I foundveryattractive. I knew the toy between my legs was messing with my head, but I couldn’t help but look at him not as a student, but as someone I would have asked out under different circumstances.
I wondered what Jace would think of that. Especially if he knew that he was the one indirectly making me view Brock that way.
Eventually, he stood up and thanked me for the help. He shook my hand, which was as formal a gesture as someone could give… but it took on a totally different context while a sex toy was jiggling inside me.
I watched him walk away, once again admiring his athletic frame. Then I peeked out into the hall, checking both directions. Jace was gone. There were no other students waiting for me.
I closed my door, locked it, and sank into the guest chair. The one Brock had just occupied. His scent lingered in the air, exotic and new. I reached between my legs and found the teardrop extension to the toy, tapping on the button until the setting changed to a steady pulse.
Alone in my office, I closed my eyes and imagined getting fucked in my office again. Spreading my legs in this chair while Jace jackhammered into me, clenching his jaw to keep from moaning loudly.
I blinked, and suddenly it wasn’t Jace going to town between my legs.
It was Brock.
It felt right, and I closed my eyes and touched myself. My entire body was as sensitive as could be by now, and I was soon shuddering with release.
But even though it was wrong to fantasize about yet another one of my students, it didn’t feel wrong.
It felt so incrediblyrightthat I was left wondering about it for the rest of the day.
21
Brock
Was it wrong to have a crush on your professor?
That question stuck with me long after I left Professor Carrington’s office.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Jace had shown me their Tinder messages on the first day of class. It also wasn’t a result of me seeing the semi-scandalous photo she’d sent him on Tinder, a selfie where she was dressed in far less clothing than she wore to class.
It was the way she looked at me in her office.
There was a spark of something new in her eyes while I asked her a question about today’s lecture. As a bartender, it reminded me of a customer who had reached that perfect place between tipsy and drunk, where everything felt amazing and all the world’s troubles were too far away to worry about. But it wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning, so there was no way alcohol was to blame.
Was she into me?
I was good at judging that kind of thing. A bartender had to be, of course, but that kind of intuition went back to my athletic days. Lots of girls fawned over me when I wore that varsityjacket, but there were many more who tried to hide it. Who pretended like they weren’t interested while secretly undressing me with their eyes.
