Grace seemed less than delighted with his close closeness, which pleased me, but the jealousy in me intensified immensely.
“How did the mutation occur?”
I heard the student pose the inquiry, but my concentration was on the tiny jerk who was still leaning in far too close to Grace. He moved his arm next to hers, nearly touching hers. He started to mumble something to her again, and I could see the frustration in her face.
“Mr. Smith, if this class is monotonous to you, you’re most than welcome to leave and give up your spot to a student on the wait list.” My words came out clipped, angry. I didn’t even give a shit that he was speaking during my lesson.
I was upset that he was too near to Grace.
My Grace.
“I’m sorry, Professor Baldwin.”
The student straightened, feeling embarrassed by being called out in front of the class. He should have been delighted that’s all I did.
I couldn’t peel my gaze off Grace, could see she had an almost embarrassed expression on her face, her teeth worried at her bottom lip. She looked between me and the idiot sitting next to her, then back at me again.
I had my hands clenched into tight fists at my side, was attempting to contain myself. Even something as basic as another male talking to her upset me. I was jealous, so fucking jealous it ate away at me.
I pushed myself to turn around, to attempt to appear like I had my shit together, like I was actually supposed to be teaching a class, not lusting for my fucking student.
“I want a thirteen-page paper on a genetic variant in a certain population completed and turned in to me by the end of the month.” There was a shuffling of paper and a murmur of voices, but I didn’t turn around, since if I did, my focus would go immediately to Grace. “Don’t act surprised by this, it’s on your syllabus.” My voice was stern. I was still annoyed, the jealousy still apparent.
Class ended and I kept my back to them, placing paperwork in my bag, my body tight. When I heard the door shut, figuring everyone was gone, I rested my hands on the edge of my desk and braced my weight, drooping my head and closing my eyes. I breathed out slowly.
“Professor Baldwin?”
The sound of her voice, that pleasant, musical tone, flowed through me, relaxing me while inflaming me all in the same breath.
I squeezed my teeth together, my jaw set firm as I straightened and turned around to face Grace. She stood a few feet from me, a couple books clasped in her arms, pressed to her chest as if they were a shield. She seemed so terrified as she stared up at me, her eyes wide, that little sundress so fucking innocent.
“I just wanted to apologize about interrupting your class.”
God, her voice had this tone to it that instantly excited me.
“I’ll make sure not to sit next to Theo again. He likes to talk during class.” She worried her bottom lip again, and I wondered if that was a nervous habit. I longed to reach out and peel her lip away from her teeth, running my thumb down the flesh before I dipped down and kissed her.
It took everything in me not to utter a little sound of yearning in that moment.
“No need to apologize, Miss Hart. It’s not your fault.” I had my hand braced behind me on the edge of the desk, my nails digging into the wood. But I kept myself in control, kept my expression flat. I could see her pulse racing rapidly beneath her ear, and moved my attention deeper down to the bodice of her clothing. Her nipples were firm as they peeked through the cloth.
I fucking adored the outfit, but I also wanted to insist she change out of it, that she cover herself so no other man could gaze at her, could imagine and lust for her. Let alone it was too revealing for winter when snow could happen at any moment.
I swallowed, felt the lump in my throat, my mouth so dry. As we stayed there for several seconds not speaking, just staring at each other, I swore I could see passion lick over her face.
She nodded slowly and offered me a bashful grin, dipping her head as she gazed up at me over her eyelids.
God, my chest ached.
“I’ll see you later, Professor Baldwin.”
She went, and seeing her walk away was so fucking painful. I really felt myself taking a step toward her, wanting to lock the door and pull her right up against my body.
I was losing my fucking mind as Grace was concerned. But if this was what insanity felt like, I didn’t want to be sane.
Who would have guessed Genetics in Physical Anthropology would be the class I looked forward to every day?
But then again it wasn’t the course that fascinated me, but the person teaching it.
