Page 1 of Anatomy Lessons

1

CLARK

The moment she walked into my classroom, I knew my life had changed.

I’ve had thousands of girls sit through my lectures over the years, but none of them came close to her. It’s not just her goddess-like beauty; it’s the aura she carries as she floats in through the door and finds her seat. She’s not even trying hard. Barely any makeup and a normal pair of jeans and a plain green T-shirt, but it’s like the whole room dulls around her.

I can feel my mind start to slip away as my eyes lock on to her.

Today is the first day of class. I’ve got everything prepared. Introductions, a syllabus to go over, my expectations and grading policies—but now it’s like my mind’s gone blank.

She’s small, innocent, and gorgeous. Medium height, shoulder-length hair, and a cute little button nose sitting above two plump lips that have dirty thoughts filling my mind. A college girl, obviously, but there’s something about the way she carries herself, the soft expression on her face and her wide eyes, that is so innocent I can feel my cock getting hard beneath my pants.

I slide to the right, hiding my growing erection behind the desk.

My blood is blazing through my veins as I stare at her, doing exactly what I’m not supposed to do. I’m a teacher, for fuck’s sake. This girl’s anatomy professor. My job is to instruct, relay knowledge, not fantasize about stripping her naked and having my way with her.

But fuck me, how am I supposed to resist? She’s just sitting there, and it’s like she’s already cast a spell on me.

She pulls out a notebook and a pen and starts scribbling something down. Even that is adorable. Everyone else has laptops or tablets except her. She clicks her pen a few times, then tosses her hair. I groan quietly, clenching my jaw as my abdominal muscles go tight. What is it about her that’s so different? Who is she? What’s her name?

Questions race through my mind like bumblebees circling their hive. I shift my weight to my right foot, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on my cock, which is now as hard as a bar of steel.

There’s a guy sitting next to her. Looks like a frat boy. Blond cropped hair, LeBron jersey, and sitting like he’s the king of the universe. He’s not even trying to hide the fact that he’s checking her out, but for some reason, she doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, she’s looking at me. Right at me.

Those innocent eyes…

I can barely contain myself. It’s like she’s expecting something from me. Six years of teaching and I’ve never felt anything like this before. Why the fuck do we have to meet here and now in this two hundred-person lecture?

Everyone’s seated now and starting to chatter among themselves. Shit, I’ve been standing here like an idiot for too long, and it’s getting awkward. Shaking my head, I clear my throat and raise a hand in the air.

“All right, settle down, everyone,” I exclaim. “Welcome to Anatomy and Physiology. I’m your professor, Professor Clark Durand. Today will be a short class. I just have a few things to go over and then I’ll let you out of here.”

The class goes quiet as I go into my monologue. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve explained where to find the curriculum, how to access class documents online, where to get an e-textbook, grading policies, homework policies, how many classes they can miss. But this time, I’m on total autopilot. It’s like someone else has taken over my vocal cords as the rest of me focuses on her…

Who is she!?

That frat boy beside her is really checking her out now. I don’t know how she doesn’t notice. Or maybe she does and she’s just really good at ignoring guys who hit on her. I mean, she must be used to it, as gorgeous as she is. She’s the kind of girl professional athletes would want on their arm.

He leans in, getting way too close to her for me, and whispers something in her ear. She jumps like she wasn’t expecting to be talked to and whispers something back.

My chest goes tense as I watch them talking. He pulls out his phone and passes it to her, and the rage pools up inside me, threatening to boil over. He wants her number or her social media. Just the thought of her with some scumbag pussy-hound like him makes me want to storm over there, toss her over my shoulder, and drag her out of the building.

But I can’t do that. You’re a professor, remember? Keep it cool.

She’s blushing now but not because she’s flattered. Because she’s uncomfortable. I almost smile as I watch her try to dismiss him. But the son of a bitch won’t take no for an answer and keeps pushing it.

Sorry, pal. Not in my class.

“Excuse me,” I snap, pointing at the kid. “You. What’s your name?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” I reply, frowning.

“Uhm, Matt?”

“Matt, I’m gonna need you to pick up your things and get out of here.”