Page 4 of Anatomy Lessons

“Nice to meet you too,” I reply, finally finding my voice. And that’s putting it mildly. I’m so hot I feel like a turkey in an oven. Not to mention the goosebumps breaking out all over my arms and legs. All I can do is hope he doesn’t notice, and if he does, he doesn’t care.

“Could I talk to you for a moment?” he asks. His voice is like music, sending wonderful vibrations through my tummy. “Just a few things I forgot to mention about class.”

Old me would have said absolutely not. Old me would have been afraid about what Mom would do. But that’s old me. This is new me. And new me is feeling things I’ve never felt before. Things I want to know more about. I fought for this independence, and there’s no way I’m going to turn back now.

“Of course,” I reply, giving Sasha the glance that all girls know. The one that means gimmie a second, but keep an eye on me. She nods back, and I follow Professor Durand back to his seat—his seat in a dark, private corner of the bar where anything could happen.

3

CLARK

That’s twice I’ve seen her walk in now, and twice I’ve nearly lost control.

She’s wearing a red dress tonight and a pair of heels she seems unsteady in. It’s clear she doesn’t get styled up like this much, which just confirms my suspicions: This girl is an innocent. An angel. Not some party girl throwing herself at every frat boy with a fake ID.

I can’t help but smile to myself as I picture Matt walking out of my classroom. Yeah, I overreacted, but did I? Should I really have let him sit there and hit on her until she couldn’t take it anymore and gave him her number?

Not a chance.

Now as she sits beside me, smelling of tangerines, I can see how pure she is. Even so, she oozes seduction and sin. All I can think about is tugging the straps of her dress down and running my lips over her breasts. Lifting the hem up over her hips and tugging her panties aside with one finger and licking her until she screams my name.

I wonder if she shaves. Part of me can imagine her being too naïve. But she must have friends who she talks with about that kind of stuff, right? I don’t care either way, but if she’s bare, I get to feel every soft inch of her flower.

My hand grips the wooden bench beneath us as a low growl rumbles in my chest. Thank God the music is so loud or she would have heard it. My cock throbs between my legs, and I inhale deeply, cementing her scent in my lungs, dreaming about what her untamed little cunt smells like…

…what she tastes like.

My protective instincts are on high alert. This may not be a college bar full of drunk dickheads just looking to get laid, but Maisy is a gorgeous innocent who definitely draws looks wherever she goes. And that makes her prey. Prey to the wolves who just want to run through her. Just the thought of her fighting away those types of men causes something primal in me to rise to the surface.

All Matt did was pester her for her number, but when I think about it now, I want to drive my fist into his guts. If I wasn’t a professor, I would too. Maisy may not know it yet, but she’s mine. I’m looking out for her now.

“Sorry about that guy earlier,” I say. “He shouldn’t have been hitting on you. Especially not during class.”

“Oh, thank you,” she replies. Her voice is sweet. Smooth as butter. “Do you…really kick people out for using their phones?”

She may be innocent, but she’s a smart one, and she’s on to me. I let a smile twist over my lips as my hand grips the bench tighter, white knuckling until the joints hurt. “Nope. You caught me. I just didn’t want him talking to you.”

Her plump pink lips part, and her eyes widen. Her skin practically glows under the soft light hanging above our table. She has green eyes like wild grass blowing in the wind on a sunny day.

“Why not?”

Christ, it’s getting harder and harder to control myself. The urge to lift up her dress and fuck her tiny little pussy is rising inside me. I’m dripping pre-cum down my thigh and chewing the inside of my cheek to keep myself under control. No woman has ever had this effect on me before. Never. Nothing even close. I barely even know Maisy, yet I’m already debating throwing it all away for her.

“I think you know why,” I reply, leveling my eyes at her. She holds my gaze, but her cheeks flush red like a couple of ripe apples.

I shouldn’t be talking like this. I’m her professor. This is completely unprofessional. I could be fired if anyone found out. Not to mention she’s at least ten years younger than I am. But I just can’t help myself. It’s like she’s got me under some kind of hypnosis that began the moment she stepped into my lecture hall. And that red dress she’s wearing now is like pouring gasoline on the fire already roaring within me.

End this right now. Tell her you’ll see her at the next class. That’s what I tell myself, but I just can’t listen. I’m transfixed. The rest of the world ceases to exist as I lose myself in those beautiful green globes.

Such purity. Such perfection.

“I…I’m not sure we should be talking like this,” she finally says with an uneasy tone. For the first time since she sat down, she breaks our gaze and anxiously brushes her hair behind her ear.

It looks like she’s thinking about getting up, so I lean in and press my hand against her knee. Big mistake.

A thrill rushes through me, causing my blood to pump like a racecar’s engine. My cock flexes against my zipper as my body threatens to overheat. Her skin is so soft, and her body is so warm. She’s so smooth against my rough palm. Another groan rumbles out of me. This time she hears it.

“I should be the worried one,” I tell her. “I could lose my job over this. But I just can’t help myself.”