“I usually bring it to him when he first gets in or when he’s on a call or meeting with Franklin Steinberg, the company accountant. The man can put anyone to sleep, so his meetings are usually first thing in the morning when necessary. I’ll create a cheat sheet for you before we leave in the morning.”
“Awesome. I’ll leave you to study.”
Three hours later, I’m sure that I’ll ace this test, so I take a break to create her notes for my boss. My stomach turns because we may look the same, which will fool my boss; her attitude won’t. We’re going to have to switch clothes for the day as well.Showtime. I’m dressed in jeans and my only pair of vans I own with her Aerosmith tank top on. I toss a blazer over it because the shirt reveals too much of my tits and skin. The classroom is packed in an auditorium setting, and the only seats available are in the front. She told me to never sit in front because she doesn’t.
“Down here, Ms. Mathers.” Shit. That voice. My pussy instantly soaks my panties. The dark, deep timber shoots straight to my girly parts. Parts that I didn’t know were alive.
“Ms. Mathers, take a seat already. This test is two hours long, and you need every minute of it.” Asshole. I spin around and am caught off guard, stumbling from the sight of the man before me. Another man catches me. “Thanks,” I say with a nervous smile, but a growl comes from the direction of the teacher whose name has suddenly escaped me. Did Alexa even give me his name? No. She only called him Mr. Stuffed Shirt.
“Ms. Mathers.” He arches his brow at me, and I blush, stepping out of the other student’s arms while biting on my bottom lip to hold back a moan.
“Maybe a date for being a hero?” the guy who caught me says. I forgot all about him. I blush and smile at Alexa’s classmate. Before I can respond, the professor’s booming voice interrupts.
“Keep your scamming on girls out of my class. Ms. Mathers, take a damn seat.” I go to move the seat when someone’s book bag is in the way, and I trip again, falling into Mr. Stuffed Shirt’s arms of all people. As if time stands still, I look up slowly at him.
No wonder she can’t pass this class, I think to myself with a tinge of jealousy. With this sexy man in front of me, I wouldn’t hear a word he said. Instead, I’m admiring his perfect face and dark brown hair that’s almost black, but the lights of the classroom highlight the brown. His eyes are brown as well, but not that dull color brown like mine. They’re practically golden, wolfish, and that mouth of his. It’s set in a grim line, his clean-shaven jaw ticking with annoyance. What would it feel like wrapped around my hard nipples that are pressed against his chest?
My expensive white panties are now ruined.
My brain is contemplating sex and wondering if he’s thick-muscled everywhere. I try to think of anything and everything else to get me out of this trance that he’s put me under. Suddenly I’m off my feet as he carries me like I weigh nothing and plops me in a chair with a growl.
Before he turns to walk away, I get a glimpse of his massive bulge. Damn, is he hard? I know I’m turned on. “Think fuck-tions. Shit. I mean functions.” I totally said that out loud. In shame, my eyes move straight to the teacher. A tiny hint of a smirk comes over Mr. Stuffed Shirt’s face.
Stuffed shirt fits him, but not in the way my sister means. Holy hell, he packs muscles into a fitted T-shirt. What kind of teacher wears a T-shirt? Someone looking for attention.
Ugh. I’m annoyed at myself for being pathetically jealous because of a man, but I remember why I’m here. So while he’s getting ready to pass out the tests, I look for the things I need to use for the exam. I bust out the TI-84 calculator and two number two pencils with a piece of scratch paper. It’s been a long time since I took a test like this, but I’ve got this. I’m not going to let the sexy jerkface ruin it for me. My sister’s right about me; I’m a nerd and proud of it.
As I move around, my phone makes the water droplet sound of my notifications.
“Phones off,” the teacher growls from the large desk in the middle of the floor.
I reach in my bag to power it down, seeing my sister’s message.
Alexa: You never told me he was hot.
Me: Ditto.
Smiling, I shut it off and tuck it into my bag. Another growl comes from the teacher. Damn it, what’s his name? Whatever it is, he needs to get his throat looked at.