My Hot Professor: A Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance Read online

  "They're fine-," We came to a red light and Nate picked up my phone and turned down the volume to a reasonable level. He pushed it into the cradle where his phone usually sat just before the light turned green.

  "They're fine," he repeated in a softer tone. The music now played gently in the background and between that and the bucket seats, everything seemed so cozy. If this were one of my fantasies, he would have reached out to run his finger down my face before taking my hand and kissing my fingers - one by one.

  "Have you heard anything from the Dean about making this more permanent?" He was still officially an adjunct professor even though he was teaching a full-time load.

  He paused for a moment and then went on hesitantly, "they're still waiting to hear if Professor Lambert is planning to come back."

  "Well, then that's good news," I smiled at him, "he told everyone last year that he wanted to retire."

  "Perhaps," he smiled ruefully, "but that doesn't mean they would give me the position."

  I got the feeling that Nate wanted to say more, but he paused and stared straight ahead instead.

  After a moment we continued with some friendly banter as we moved through late night traffic, but we both grew quieter the closer we got to my place. I grimaced because compared to the university, this part of town looked so much shadier at night. Some of the street lights were broken and never seemed to get fixed, so the street was even darker, and that only made it look worse.

  I could see his hands fidgeting on the steering wheel, but not in time with the new song playing softly in the background. It was pretty obvious at this point that he had something to say but before he could open up we arrived at my address. Like clockwork, he pulled in behind the building so I would have a straight shot up to my apartment.

  Once inside I would flip on the light and he would know I was safely inside. It was a silly thing, but it made him happy and secretly it made me feel well cared for. Part of me always wanted to invite him up, but I didn't dare. At least, not with roommates, bugs, and neighbors that peed in the hallway.

  He pulled the car up to the door and turned to me."Olivia," he started in his most serious teacher tone, "I wanted to talk-"

  "Thank you so much for the ride, Professor Dalton," I interrupted as I put my hand on the door to leave. Normally I would linger a bit, but I could tell that tone meant bad news, and I just wasn't interested in hearing it tonight.

  "I really think that-"

  "I'll see you in class!" I jumped out of the car before he had a chance to say goodbye and a few minutes later I was bounding up the stairs, panting hard and on the verge of tears.

  "Not today," I whispered softly. This was not how any my fantasies ended and it certainly wouldn't be how things ended with Nate.

  Nate

  "Damn it," I swore at the door to Olivia's building as it closed behind her. This was not how things were supposed to go tonight.

  When we were leaving the school, Dean Heller caught up with me and asked to speak first thing in the morning. It should have been a two-second conversation, but instead, she hung around making small talk. I've been around the block a few times and know when a woman is putting out feelers - but this wasn't that. It was more like she was hoping to catch me doing something wrong.

  Which I wasn't.

  But I'm sure it wasn't going to look that way to her.

  I put the car in gear and started to make a skinny three-point turn in the impossibly small parking lot. I noticed, too late, that there was an empty spot where her roommate usually parked. I knew Olivia wasn't happy with her roommate, but I wondered - given the right incentive - if she would be able to pick her up after group. But then, I wouldn't be the one driving her home.

  The sound of a crash pulled me out of my reverie and I wondered where it came from. I looked up to Olivia's window and the light wasn't yet on, so I completed my turn while I waited. I started pulling forward to get a better view of her window when the beginning of All Of My Love started playing on the phone. Or rather - on her phone.

  Fuck.

  I reached over to take the phone out of the cradle when something flashed past the corner of my eye. A second later I had to slam on the brakes because someone ran out in front of my car. Illuminated by the headlights, I got a quick glimpse of the doe-eyed stare of a young kid. He looked like he was barely a teenager and was wearing baggy sweatpants and a hoodie that covered his head.

  My heart was beating fast, not because I was afraid I could have hit him, but because something was wrong.

  I could just feel it.

  I put the car in park and jumped into action. I hesitated as I got closer to the door to the building. It wouldn't have a buzzer like most entranceways, but it would surely be locked.

  I reached out and the door opened without any resistance. Not only was there no keyed lock on the door, there wasn't even a latch. How did I let Olivia stay in a place that was so unsecured? I ran up the stairs two at a time and quickly got my bearings. I had never been in the building, but I at least knew which window belonged to her.

  I didn't need to know which door was hers, it was clear from the pieces of laminated wood on the floor. I ran toward the debris, worried about what I would find there.

  "Olivia," I called out as I rounded the door, "where are you?"

  The apartment was a mess. What little light came in through the window showed opened boxes strewn about on the floor, their contents seemed to be tossed everywhere. I scanned the room and saw the shadow of Olivia laying on her back. She wasn't moving and the thought sent me into a panic.

  "Olivia!" I screamed and ran to her.

  "Nate! Don't move!" she yelled back, "there's glass everywhere."

  I reached around to find a light and thought I saw the outline of one laying across the floor. I went to reach for it and she stopped me.

  "Not that one," she said calmly - more calmly than I felt, "take two steps straight ahead to the window and on your left, there's a light switch against the wall."

  My heart was beating out of my chest, afraid of what I was going to see when I turned it on. "Are you ok?" I asked as my hands slid over the wall looking for the light switch.

  "I- I think so," she said, her voice breaking slightly, "he ran past and pushed me into the coffee table. The cheap piece of shit broke underneath me."

  That must have been the crash I heard earlier. I was angry at myself for not acting sooner, but I tried to stay calm. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have had that extra piece of pizza," I tried to lighten the mood as my frustration level rose - I couldn't find the damn light switch.

  Olivia barked out a quick laugh, "Actually," she said, her voice still shaky, "I was thinking I should have picked out a sturdier coffee table at this year's Allston Christmas."

  I returned her laugh just as my hands hit on the light and I quickly turned around, ready to assess the situation.

  It didn't look good - but it could have been a lot worse.

  The glass topper looked like it exploded around her. Anger was fighting fear as I looked at the scene. I didn't see any blood, but one poorly placed shared could put her at serious risk.

  "I didn't know how to get up from here," she said as her hands fluttered in the air. I started to move toward her and she yelled out, "wait - go to the kitchen sink and grab the rubber gloves."

  "Why," I growled and started making my way over to her.

  "You need to protect your hands," She said softly and I stopped short. I saw the scared look in her eyes and I quickly turned to the kitchen sink. Partly to get the gloves, but also to give me a moment to calm my nerves.

  "What happened in here?" I asked as I searched for the gloves.

  "I- I don't really know, it happened so fast," she stammered, "I guess I wasn't paying attention. I thought my roommate had just left the door open and I didn't realize until too late someone had broken in."

  And I let the fucker go.

  Anger coursed through my veins as I snapped on the gloves and
spun around to get her out of there. Her lower legs were pretty much clear of the debris, but her upper body was surrounded by glass.

  "Let me look at your hands," I ordered a bit more strongly than I had planned. I pulled out my phone to shine a light on them in the hopes of catching a glimmer of something that shouldn't be there. They were mostly clean aside from a few shards that I was able to easily remove.

  "Ok, these look good," I continued calmly, "next I'm going to lift you up - but I'll need your help."

  "Get me out of here and I'll do anything you want," she blurted out.

  I tried to ignore the blush that spread across her cheeks, but my cock wouldn't let me. What was wrong with me, she was lying in glass and all I was thinking about was how she could repay me for getting her out of this mess.

  "I need you to keep your body perfectly straight as I lift you up so you don't grind your body into the glass." I saw terror flash across her face and tried to calm her down, "you'll be fine, just concentrate on being a plank."

  "Ok," she whispered and fluttered her eyelids, "I can do that."

  I took her hands in mine and braced one foot against hers to create a pivot point. With a quick tug, I lifted her off the ground so she was standing straight up.

  "Oh My God!" she called out, "You did it!"

  "Don't move," I hissed as she tried to walk away, "you might still have glass all over your backside."

  "Oh, right," she laughed and her blush deepened, "how - er - how do we rid of it?"

  "Well, I'll have to take your clothes off."

  Olivia

  If anyone had told me that landing in a pile of glass would lead to the best experience in my life, I would have thought they were crazy. But as I stood in front of Nate - my heart beating fast and my mind trying to catch up with what was happening - he said something I had been longing to hear since the day we first met.

  He wanted to see me naked.

  Ok, that's not exactly what he said, but that's what he was going to do to me. And I was just thanking my lucky stars that something was finally going to happen between us.

  Nate was giving my entire body a quick once over, and as his hands skimmed along my body I realized those hands - his hands - would be examining more of me than anyone else ever had. A delicious shiver ran down my spine at that thought.

  "So," my breathing was shallow as my mind raced over the prospects, "how do we do this?" I knew my face was already flushed from telling him I would do whatever he wanted if he just got me out of that mess, but now I was almost giddy with anticipation.

  "We need to be careful," Nate spoke so dispassionately that it almost crushed me. If this was one of my fantasies his voice would have been more sultry with a bunch of double entendres to keep me guessing.

  "No," I coughed slightly to hide my disappointment, "do we do it here?" I pointedly looked at the broken door leading to the hallway and then down at my body. I was all for Nate seeing me naked, but not the neighbors. Not that any of them were actually checking on me - I didn't live in that kind of neighborhood.

  "Oh, right," he looked over at the door for a moment and then reached out to close it. He grabbed a chair from the kitchen to hold it that way and then came back to stand in front of me. "That will have to do for now until we get you undressed."

  Undressed, I repeated to myself. Any second now he would start and I was suddenly torn between throwing myself at him and wanting to giggle. I took a steadying breath and tried to stay calm. "Whatever you think is best," I managed to squeak out and I thought I saw him hide a wicked smile.

  "First," he leaned in close and his voice was now soft and deep, "I'm going to take off your sweater."

  I clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering and I wondered how long I would be able to withstand the anticipation. "Of course," I stammered, "I trust you."

  A moment later I heard the sound of kitchen shears slicing against itself and I panicked, "What are you doing?" I gasped and straightened my back.

  "Don't worry," he breathed softly into my ear, "this is the safest way."

  My heart thudded painfully in my chest at the thought of him cutting the clothes off of my body. But it wasn't with fear but desire. What was wrong with me? After what I just went through I should have been freaking out.

  I heard the scissors clip the hem of my sweater and I took a deep breath.

  "You'll tell me if any of this hurts." It should have been a question, but it seemed more like an order. He could be so bossy sometimes. "Olivia," he breathed in a way that quickened my pulse and demanded my attention.

  "Y-yes," I stammered, "I'll tell you."

  Any fear I had was halted when I felt his fingers skim up my back. He was carefully moving the material out of the way and slowly exposing my body him, inch by glorious inch.

  Occasionally the tug was sharp, but for the most part, he was gentle, slow, and methodical. His breathing was slow and steady as he worked, and I had to remind myself to breathe with him.

  Little by little he clipped and removed my sweater until it finally slipped off my body and pooled on the floor. I could see the light from his phone flash against the wall as he ran it over my back and arms looking for stray splinters. I closed my eyes and focused on his fingers skimming over my body, examining every inch of my flesh. It was intoxicating.

  I felt the cold steel of the scissors slide up my spine before stopping at the band of my bra. Goosebumps broke out on my skin at what was to come next. He hesitated for a moment before whispering in my ear, "Almost done." A moment later he snipped off my bra and it joined my sweater on the floor.

  I had to resist the urge to lift my hands to cover my breasts. Instead, I stood with my hands by my side, willing him to examine me further.

  As if reading my mind, he gently lifted my arm and ran his fingertips down my side, dancing over the swell of my breast. It was both heaven and hell. His fingertips left a fire in their wake, and it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself.

  "Well that wasn't too bad at all," he murmured. His voice vibrated through me, and all I wanted to do was to lean back against him. Instead, my eyes fluttered closed and I waited for him to continue. As far as I was concerned, he could not get my clothes off fast enough.

  With his same methodical cutting, he made quick work of my leggings and soon they were pooled on the floor with the rest of my clothes. The light bounced off the walls again as he used his flashlight to look for any stray bits of glass. When the light clicked off I knew this was my shot.

  It was now or never.

  I took a deep breath and turned to face him. His expression was outwardly calm, but I could sense a storm brewing underneath - or what I hoped was a storm. I threw caution to the wind and made my move. I rolled up onto the balls of my feet to give myself extra height and placed my hands high up on his chest.

  With a strangled groan, he dipped his head and crushed his lips against mine. It was the moment I had been dreaming about since I first met Nate, and I welcomed the invasion.

  The way his lips claimed mine, how his tongue danced along my lower lip, the feel of his hands as they slid down my body before resting lightly on my hips. I welcomed it all - and more. Nate was going to be my first, and this was just the beginning.

  His breath was hot as it mixed with mine, and I parted my lips willingly to his invasion. I was drowning in the intensity of his kiss when I thought I heard him whisper, "this is such a bad idea." A moment later, his hands belied that statement when they slid around to cup my ass and pull me closer.

  I could feel his desire pressed against me, and my heart soared as his lips continued their exploration. My fingers began a journey up the length of his body and I marveled that even though his clothing I could feel the hard ridges of his back. I began to fantasize – not for the first time – what he would look like dripping wet from a hot shower or half covered with the cool sheets on my bed.

  As my thoughts continued on their wild ride, I breathed in his scent. It was pure mal
e sexuality, and I knew that it wasn't coming from a cologne. This was all him. "I can't believe this is finally happening," I whispered, "I want you to be my first."

  I felt his muscles stiffen under my fingertips and I worried that he was going to stop. With a slight moan, he buried his face in the crook of my neck and breathed deeply, almost as if he was inhaling my own scent in return. "Oh, I'm going to hell," he rumbled into my neck as his lips branded me with his feather-light kisses.

  Closing my eyes, my hands snaked up to bury my fingers in his hair and pull him closer. After all this time, I relished the feeling of his lips on my skin, the fevered way his tongue danced over my flesh. My fingers began to draw out tiny circles on his scalp, and I imagined what it would be like to truly explore the man under the suit. Any minute now, that fantasy was going to become a reality.

  Just as quickly as my fantasy began, the real world came back into focus as we heard voices in the hallway.

  I opened my eyes and saw Nate's expression close off as he looked over at the door. "Go get dressed," he ordered as he protectively put his body between me and the broken door. It was not the words I wanted to hear from him, but given everything that had just happened, I ran as quickly as I could to obey.

  Nate

  I was going straight to hell with a detour through public ridicule. Not only that, but I was seven shades of crazy to do what I was doing.

  "I know it's kind of late, but the guys should still be out drinking. I'm sure if I texted one of them would let me crash-"

  It only took one quick look in Olivia's direction to stop her rambling. As if I would let her anywhere near a group of drunken, horny frat boys. Her fingers continued to twist around the fringe of the bright pink scarf in her lap while she glanced at me anxiously. Every once in a while her eyes would dart to the back seat where most of her scant belongings were piled. I knew some college students lived rough, but aside from an overflowing laundry basket, a trash bag with a bit more clothing, and a couple of extra power cords, she seemed to carry all her belongings with her every day.