Home > Pride (The Elite Seven #2)(14)

Pride (The Elite Seven #2)(14)
Author: J.D. Hollyfield

“Um…um…sorry…” She shakes her head, trying to pull herself together. “So, class…” she begins, struggling to find her bearings. I slowly relax, enjoying just how cute she is fumbling over her words. “Um, sorry…I…uh…” She turns back to the chalkboard, giving the class her back, her shoulders rising and falling as she inhales deep breaths. “Where were we?”

Yeah, she’s fucking cute.

The next forty-five minutes are a blur. I can’t stop comparing how different she is. Like night and day. Nowhere is the sex kitten with ambiguous eyes and dark tastes, but a sweet college professor with her hair in a perfect ponytail, not a rip in her nylons, and her face clean and almost bare, except for the minimal Chapstick she applies several times probably due to her unease. Damn if just the simple act of her touching her lips doesn’t make me harder than hell. She barely gets through her lecture, apologizing a handful more times as she stutters over her words. Not once does she make eye contact with me again, and I’ll admit, I’m disappointed. Knowing how those almond shaped eyes lured me in makes me crave her attention.

It doesn’t help that my mind keeps taking me back to the night in the motel. How bendable her small, taut body was. How hungry her cunt was when I fucked her from behind, twice. The scratch marks she left on my back begin to sting all over again at the memory of us both coming so hard, I swore we passed out.

How the hell did she get on The Elite’s radar? Is her taste for kink her dirty secret? I sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

When the hour hits, ending class, I’m hard as fuck and doubt I can get up without anyone noticing the huge tent in my jeans. Students gather their books and are up, fighting to get out of the classroom. I, on the other hand, don’t move a muscle. I wait and watch. Sensing the worry and discomfort in the air. She has yet to look at me, and I know she’s all but praying to whatever holy god she worships I get up, leave, and never return.

But I can’t do that.

When the last person exits, I make my move. I prowl over to the chalkboard where she’s trying to busy herself by wiping the same spot over and over. “Don’t they have cleaning staff to do that?” I chuckle as she jumps at the sound of my voice.

She whips around to face me. Since I left her with no room, her warm body brushes against mine. Her cheeks blaze a crimson at our connection, and I have to fight my dick from ripping through my jeans to get to her.

“Um…Mister…Blackwell, is it? Um…how can I—?”

“It’s Mason.”

“Um, sure. Mason. Please try to be on time for next class…” she trails off, coming to the quick conclusion that playing coy is not worth the effort. A long sigh leaves her lips as her arms fly up in defeat. “Oh god. Fuck it. I’m fucked. I didn’t…you…I’m going to lose my job! I didn’t know…you’re a student?” she cries. “I was so far off university grounds, no one from this campus would have even been caught dead in a place like that. And oh my god, you’re a freshman? Please tell me it’s because you waited four or ten years to go to school and you’re not—”

“Eighteen?” I say.

She covers her face with her hands and groans. “Oh my god.”

I want to tell her the truth about my age to ease her stress, but I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it to myself that you’re a cradle robber.”

Her hands slide down her face, her eyes wide. “I am not a cradle robber! How was I supposed to know you were so young? You were in a bar! And you look…look…”

“Old enough and strong enough to be the Hulk?” Her face explodes with mortified embarrassment. I wonder if she’s mentally picturing herself cuffed to the bed while I sucked and devoured her pussy. I can’t help it. I bust out laughing.

“Oh my god! What you must think of me! That’s not… I’m not… Please. Please don’t report me. I need this job. I’ve worked really hard to get it. I…I…I was far from campus and didn’t think college students even ventured that far. Please…”

I ignore the stabbing feeling in my gut at knowing I plan on doing just that. My task is to expose her, not keep her secret. “Relax. I ain’t gonna say shit,” I lie. Her eyes shoot from my chest, where she had yet to blink away from, to connect with mine. This is the first time she’s made eye contact with me today, and the moment it happens, my cock starts to stir again. Shit, she’s attractive. She’s still tiny compared to my large frame, but those sexy nude heels give her just enough height.


“I told you. Relax. I thought you were way younger yourself. Not into seducing my professors.”

“Younger?” she gapes. “I’m twenty-three. That’s way too old for you.” Not when I’m really twenty. But I can’t admit that.

I can’t help it. I take a step closer, causing her to retract a step, her back hitting the chalkboard. “Didn’t think age was a factor last weekend,” I taunt, and her cheeks flare red. It reminds me of how flushed and sweaty we both were. My low laughter has her melting farther into the wall. “I’m kidding. Listen, I’m a late start in your class. Maybe in exchange for my silence, you help me catch up on what I’ve missed? I really need this grade.”

She studies me, debating whether I’m telling the truth on my vow of silence or fucking with her. I definitely want to be fucking her, but I need to bide myself some time. I ain’t doing shit until I get some answers.

A few more seconds pass before her shoulders become less tense, and she replies. “I guess I can do that. But! Last week never happened, okay? It was a mistake. I mean, it wasn’t…I had a nice time, but this is my job. We have to stay professional. Okay?”

Professional my ass. Her naked under me sounds more like it. The sexy little tremors of her body when she whimpers at my touch. The taste of her on my tongue. Not why you’re here, asshole. Reminding myself of that is the bucket of ice water I need thrown in my face to remember this isn’t for enjoyment. It’s not about having fun with my professor no matter how alive she made me feel. It’s about getting my job done and moving on. Completing my task, The Elite, and taking my sister and leaving this fucking town.

“Okay. Sure. I can do that. Sounds like a fair trade. If you stick to it.” She raises her brow, hope mixing with worry in her eyes as she stands on pins and needles for my reply.

“Scouts honor,” I say, and raise two fingers.

We’re both quiet for a moment, until she sighs, the beautiful sound seeping into my skin. “Well, I have some time now. Maybe we can just go over what you missed and start from there.”


I’m in.

Those glossed-over eyes confirm, despite our situation, she still wants me. Feeling pleased, I step back, allowing her some breathing room, and toss my backpack to the ground. “Yeah, sure,” I reply and take a seat. She scrambles for a sheet of paper in her tote bag and comes to sit next to me.

“Okay, so…um, first, here’s the syllabus for class. You’ll want to look this over and maybe spend some time catching up on the chapters you’ve missed.”

I’m trying to stay focused on what she’s saying, but with the light aroma of cherries and vanilla seeping into my nostrils, it’s impossible. I lift my eyes from the sheet and watch as her lips move, aching to trace my finger along her bottom one.

“How familiar are you with theology and religion?”


“Theology. The class?” She examines me, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, none,” I reply honestly. A prison GED doesn’t see a need for learning about that shit. Her smile is kind. If she’s disappointed in my lacking education thus far, she doesn’t show it.

“Oh! Okay. That’s not a problem. We can start from the beginning. See if anything rings a bell.” She starts highlighting a bunch of shit on the syllabus. “So, the first three weeks we went over the definitions, study of religious scriptures, and how it all aligned with ancient philosophies and worship.”

I have no idea what the fuck she’s talking about. Shit I couldn’t care less about. My eyes follow each line she swipes, but I’m fighting to hide the scowl forming on my face as my thoughts are elsewhere. What is Lillian’s angle with Megan? What secret does Megan possibly have that deserves such punishment?

The card.

Sinful enjoyment.

Lillian wants me to punish her for her dark tastes in bed? My fists clench under the desk. I fear I might just turn into the Hulk himself.

“Still with me?”


“Sorry, I’m going too fast. Just when I talk, I can sometimes lose myself in…” She scans my face. “God, this is too awkward, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s fine. Keep going.” Keep talking so the sound of your musical voice drowns out all the bad shit in my head.

“Um, maybe I can give you some homework. You can work on it between classes. Some reading maybe?” I study her, searching for the deceit. Ugliness to warrant why I’m really here. But I see nothing behind her sweet beautiful smile. “So, this isn’t gonna work, is it?”

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