Loved By Him - Tattooed Brides

Chapter 1

James Tilson

The last few months of my life have been a mess, to say the least. Finding out that I had another sister made me mad as hell, to be honest, I still am. Shaynah is a lovely person, one I would have liked to have had in my life long before now. I am still mad at my father for his actions and I don’t see that changing any time soon. I understand that he was angry at my mother for abandoning us, but to treat a woman like he did, like she was no better than gum on the bottom of a shoe, I’ll never understand that if I live to be a hundred. I believe in one woman for life. Which would explain why I am a twenty-eight-year-old virgin. I’ve gone on a lot of first dates, but I knew right away that they weren’t the one, so I didn’t pursue them any further.

As a professor of philosophy at Georgia University located in Brunswick, Georgia, I am not what you would call a typical professor. I am covered in tattoos, not that you could tell that from the tweed sweater with suede elbow patches I have on and the fact that I wear my hair long. It’s usually kept back from my face with a bit of leather. My students call my teaching method down to Earth. I just teach how I wish my professors would have taught me.

The winter semester started today but for some reason, the winter holidays start tomorrow through January fifth. So, while it seems pointless to me, here I am. I watch as my new students pile into the lecture hall. One student practically floats on air. I can’t help noticing her. She’s wearing a long black dress and a red sweater. The shoes peeking out are chucks and they match my own. Her blonde hair is a riot of curls that I want to bury my hands in. This is a small class, only twenty students. It is a small discussion group on ancient Greek philosophy. It is a requirement for graduation with a major in philosophy. I chose to become a professor, but many go on to become lawyers, doctors, or members of the clergy. I clear my throat and try not to stare at the girl. Fuck it, I can’t stop.

“Good afternoon and welcome to Philosophy 1290. I am Professor Tilson. I am not going to really get started on the curriculum until after the holidays. But I will pass out the syllabus, which you can also find in my ETeach on the website. There you will turn in papers and take your tests. This room will be a place for discussion. Free thinking discussion in a judgment free zone. I hope you all understand that now. I will not tolerate anything else. Otherwise, I am pretty laid back. I wish we had more time to go into this today, but this is a crazy schedule,” I say getting a few chuckles. “So today, I thought we’d go around the room and introduce ourselves since this a much more intimate setting than we are used to. I’ll start. My name is James. I am from Savannah. I hate jazz music and blueberries. Who’s next?”

Several people introduce themselves by standing up and taking the floor. Then my girl stands up next and I sit down on the edge of my desk. She’s breathtakingly beautiful. I hate that the guys in the class are noticing that too. Just as I do, they hang on to her every word.

“My name is Madalinn Savion. I am from Decorah, Iowa. You’ve probably never heard of it. It’s very, very small. This is the very last credit I need to graduate, though to be honest, I am not sure why I am taking this class. I want to teach kindergarten. I, um, also hate jazz,” she says sitting back down abruptly. I scan her face to find it beet red. The sound of her voice is enough to make my cock rock hard. I am having a difficult time listening to the other students who go after her because I still can’t stop staring at her. She smiles at me softly but she’s staring at me too. I shouldn’t want her, but I do.

After class, she remains behind, looking like a sin that I want to commit forever. The only sin.

“Professor Tilson?” she asks hesitantly. Her voice is breathy and goes straight to my cock. I have no idea how I am going to make it through this semester if just the sound of her voice gives my dick a mind of its own.

“Yes, Ms. Savion?” I ask after clearing my throat.

“I was wondering if there is any possible way that you could become my thesis advisor? I know it’s short notice, but my last advisor, Professor Parry, retired suddenly, as I am sure you know.”