Shara Azod - Shara's Naughty Bites-The Professor(1).pdf

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The Professor
By
Shara Azod
~1~
Teaching was supposed to get easier as the semester progressed, not harder.
However, how was she supposed to concentrate on her lectures with that Latin hunk of
loveliness all up in her face? Okay, so not up in her face exactly, but he sat in the front
row directly in front of her podium every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night.
Those hazel eyes never strayed from her form, not even to take notes. It was unnerving
and thrilling all at once. He seemed completely engrossed in her words, yet that
unmistakable gleam in those cat eyes bespoke of something naughty and deliciously
forbidden.
Lisa had a sneaking suspicion Mr. Anthony Delgato didn’t need to take her
Critical Thinking course. In fact, he didn’t look like he belonged in City College at all.
He was obviously military with that incredibly commanding bearing and short-cropped
hair. She had to fight off the urge to ruffle the short inky black curls on top of his head
whenever she stepped into the classroom. But as this was her very first college course
in which she was in complete control, she had to be professional. Professors didn’t flirt
with the students.
Well, female professors didn’t. And she wasn’t really a full-fledged professor
yet. Just a chick with a master’s working on her PhD. She just couldn’t afford to get
caught harassing yummy students, no matter how fine and inviting they looked.
But she could daydream. Just not in the middle of class.
Pulling her thoughts together, she launched into her lecture, determined not to
look at the large man stuffed into the small seat right in front of her. His body made
the desk look like it belonged in an elementary school instead of a junior college. He sat
angled to the side to fit. At something like six-two or six-three, he wasn’t exactly
massive, but all well defined and sinewy.
You need to stop obsessing over him and concentrate on what the hell you’re saying.
What was she saying? Something about slippery slopes, or was it red herrings?
“Professor Higgins? I don’t understand the definition of Non-sequiturs . What do
you mean, ‘Does not follow’? Doesn’t follow how?”
Thank goodness for overachieving high school students. She had three in this
class, always on top of things. She would have lost her line of thought many times over
if it hadn’t been for their constant demand for more information. Most of the college
students were here because the class was required. They were neither interested nor
particularly pleased to be present at the seven to ten pm class. Almost all of them had
full time jobs, some with families. They would do the barest minimum to get a decent
grade and move on. The high school students were all gifted students looking to not
only wrap up as many college credits as possible before going to college, but to master
whatever subject they took. They made teaching worthwhile. Plus, they guaranteed to
tear her musings from of Mr. Sexy in the front row. Thankfully, the semester was
almost over.
*****
Tony shifted slightly in the uncomfortable seat. Man, these desks were for
infants. He wondered why he bothered showing up night after night, but one look at
the woman behind the podium erased all discomfort except the raging hard on he was
trying to hide. Maybe he should stop trying to hide it. Maybe he should let Professor
Higgins see what she was doing to him.
The only reason he was here was for her. He didn’t need the course, seeing as
how he already had a Master’s. Initially he had come to enroll in a couple of basic
computer courses to help him in his side business. He would be getting out of the
service soon and he wanted to make sure all his ducks were in a row. He needed to
brush up on databases and spreadsheets to track the few cases he had going. Building a
security business from scratch was no joke.
It was during registration that he had seen Professor Higgins greeting some
returning students. It didn’t take much to find out she taught Critical Thinking while
seeking a PhD in Philosophy Education. Before he knew it, he enrolled in one of her
courses. He sat there every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night trying to figure out
a way to talk to her.
The woman was a powerhouse. Small in stature but nicely rounded, she was
professional, cool and concise-all the things that drove him crazy. He wanted to see her
hair mussed from a night of wild passion. He wanted those pillowy lips swollen from
his kisses. He wanted that dark, cappuccino skin glistening with sweat and those deep
brown eyes glazed over in ecstasy. Hell, he just wanted her.
Although she tried to hide it, he knew she had noticed him watching her. He
tried to make it as obvious as possible without being creepy. He didn’t look down,
didn’t take notes; his focus remained solely on her from the beginning of class until the
end. Speaking to her afterwards was proving problematic as her students swamped her

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