Her Dirty Professor Series (21+)

Me: I’ll see you in fifteen minutes. Your friend should go home and sleep once I arrive, I’ll take over.

Esme: Hmmm okay but really it’s not necessary.

Me: It is. I’m driving now. See you soon.

Soon, I’m outside her apartment door. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself and tame my hard-on but failing completely. I knock, and a moment later I hear three locks clicking back. My teeth grind at the thought that she lives somewhere she doesn’t feel safe. That’s going to change.

When she opens the door, I’m immediately in awe of her innocent, sexy beauty. Her hair is loose around her fresh face, and her red lips turn upward, her blue eyes sparkling.

“Yes?” She opens the door just enough to poke her face out. “I already bought my Girl Scout cookies this year.” Her tone is playful-I see the little girl inside her more than yesterday, and it makes my heart leap.

“I like to hear you say yes. I want you to say yes to a lot more.”

Her eyes widen. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” I smile as she pulls the door back, letting me inside. I look over and see her friend sitting up on the couch, looking half asleep.Exclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.

“You remember Karen,” she says, and we nod at each other.

“You can go.” I look at her friend. “I’ll stay with her now.”

As grateful as I was that she came to look after Esme, I just want her to leave so the two of us can be alone. The last few hours away from her only solidified for me that there is something big going on here and I need to push things forward.

“Uhhh…” Her friend looks from me to Esme. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Esme replies, her eyes dancing up and down on me, then back to her friend. “You need to sleep. Thanks for coming over.”

The girls finish up some chitchat, giving me sidelong glances as they do, and I wander over to the window, noticing she has no curtains and there is an apartment building across the way. Literally anyone could look over and see her.

Irrational anger heats inside me at the thought that someone has the ability to watch her. See her walking around. I don’t want anyone else looking at her.

She and her friend say their goodbyes, then she comes over and sits cross-legged on the sofa.

I step to where she is, reaching down and pushing her hair back to reveal the bump on her head.

“It’s not hurting?”

“No.” She looks up at me, and all I can think of is getting her on her knees, looking down into those eyes with my cock in her mouth. “I feel good.”

“Good. Did you take the Tylenol?”

“No. It wasn’t hurting.”

“That’s a relief.”

We’re alone, and it’s a struggle to stay in control. My cock is so hard it’s aching as she fidgets on the couch, her blonde hair shining in the sun streaming through the window, and her nipples are poking through the fabric of the Star Trek shirt, only now she’s also wearing a loose pair of blue jean shorts.

She looks like an innocent lamb again, sitting there with me towering over her, but she doesn’t look scared. She looks hopeful.

“Can I get you anything?” she finally asks.

“Yes.” I swallow hard and choose my words carefully. “You will get me many things. Right now, I want you to tell me what happened last night. Why you were out in the street, running.”

“I told you. I met someone for a drink, and it just didn’t go that great.” She smiles and pushes a lock of hair behind her ear, but I know she’s lying.

And there’s a rage building inside of me at that thought because I suspect someone hurt her. Or tried to hurt her.

“Bambina, I want you to listen to me.” I reach down and take her hands, crouching to bring our faces level. “I believe that for some reason, maybe divine intervention, you were thrown into my life last night. I feel it. But for me to be the best I can be for you, you need to tell me the truth. Always. Can you do that for me?”

She chews on her bottom lip as I feel the softness of her tiny hands in mine. I want to discover every inch of her stunning curves, every crease and mark and the stories behind them all.

She opens her mouth like she’s going to answer, but instead she blows out a warm breath, and its sweet scent hits my nose, making me think of pressing my face between her legs and breathing her in.

When she finally speaks, her voice is tentative. “I mean, sure. Yes, but we barely know each other. You’re not responsible for my problems.” Her tone has turned a bit harsh, but I see through the tough act.

“This may sound crazy to you, but you will come to understand that you are my responsibility. And for me to take care of you, I always need to know what you are thinking. You need to be truthful with me, so I can help you and make sure you are safe.”

“Okay.” Her eyes light up, but there’s still doubt there. “I went for a job interview for a hostess position at a restaurant. The guy that was there wanted more than just an interview. When he started to unzip…” She shrugs and smiles uncomfortably, playing with the ends of her hair, and rage engulfs me as I realize where she’s going with this.

I’ve killed before. It’s not something I’m proud of, but nor is it something I’m ashamed of. At that moment it was what needed to be done. But right now, knowing someone thought she was their toy to intimidate?

The nine circles of hell would be a pleasure compared to what I want to do to whoever did this to her.

“I feel fine about it, though. I mean, I got out. Wasn’t like he was forcing me, was just sort of like… this is what needs to happen if you want the job. I just got scared. I could have just left, I’m sure. Truth is…” She gives me a shrug. “I don’t really want to talk about it. I feel stupid for acting like a crazy person.”

“There’s nothing to feel stupid about. I’m glad you ran. I’m not glad you got hurt, but I am glad you ran because you ran right into me.”

She looks so young sitting like that, leaning back against the couch, her face fresh and her eyes wide. There’s something growing inside of me that feels new. Something paternal, like she’s somehow always belonged to me, and I want everything good and wonderful in the world for her.

I want details but decide to wait. She said it was a restaurant. I know all the bars and restaurants around there. In fact, most of them are on our payroll for some level of protection, and I can tell you as soon as I find out who did this, they are going to get the beatdown of their life.

Everything in time. Right now I want her comfortable with me, and pushing her and showing her the rage that is bubbling inside me doesn’t feel like the right move.

“Me, too,” she whispers and licks her plump, pink lips, making my cock jerk.

“You know, I want to know everything about you.” I release one of her hands from mine and place it on her cheek for a split second, then stroke her hair, feeling the silky strands under my fingers before I trace them down her neck to hold her softly there. “I want to know everything.”

I feel her swallow under my palm, and her pulse races under my fingertips.

“It’s kinda hard to tell someone everything… but I’ll give you a synopsis,” she starts. “I just turned twenty. I just finished my first year at the University of Michigan. I’m taking a few online summer classes because I want to graduate early, then go on to law school. I worked as a waitress in a diner all year in addition to taking a full load of classes. I like to decorate, too. I eat too much junk, especially the pink Hostess Sno Balls and Kit Kats. I eat waffles every morning for breakfast, it’s the only thing I can cook. I have a cat named Oscar and a dog named Lemon that both live with my parents. I grew up in Greenbriar, that’s like two hours north, small little town-there were seventy-eight in my graduating class, if that tells you anything. Umm… I don’t know what else to tell you.” Her cheeks burn pink, and I wonder if she’s wet. “Oh, I don’t drive. I’m scared to death to drive, and I don’t know why. Okay, I’m babbling now.”

“What were your grades last year?” I ask, locking my eyes to hers.

Her lips turn upward. “My GPA is 3. 95. I have a full-ride scholarship. Thank goodness.”

“That makes me very proud. What made you want to be an attorney? Money?” I want to support her, be there for her. I also want her to know she will never have to do anything just for money again.

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. I want to be something, you know? Something important, special.” She smiles. “At first, I wanted to be a prosecutor, but now maybe injury law. I don’t know, I guess I just know I want to be successful. Sounds dull to you, I’m sure…”

“Not at all. You know what you want. That’s very attractive.”

“Well, I think I do.” There’s a moment of hesitation. “I’ve always been creative, as well. When I was little I used to design whole houses for my dolls. My parents bought me a few at garage sales and thrift stores, and I couldn’t ever complete all of them because the pieces are expensive, but I still loved doing the designing, even when I was little like that. Only thing is, how do you combine creativity with the law?”