She glances up from her book, her lips slightly parted, her hair somewhat messy and falling in front of her eyes. “You have to take it during my office hours. Make an appointment.” Sam shoves her hair behind her ears and shuts her book, clutching the leather in her hand.
“And how do I do that?”
“You can find my availability on Strick Net.”
I lean forward, and she slides her chair back. “I’m ready now.”
Her eyes shift to the back of the room, lingering there for a few seconds before she turns and looks at me again. “I don’t have time for you.”
She makes me so angry and so turned on all at the same time. It’s a weird feeling, one I’m liking. “Make time,” I whisper. “I can be very convincing.”
Shocked, she gasps.
“You want a repeat.” I stare her down, honing in on her every movement she makes. “Is that it?”
Sam swivels her chair, and before she can get up, I slap a palm down on her knee to keep her in place. From my sudden gesture, the pen she’s holding falls to the floor and lands between her legs—right where I want to be.
Bending down on one knee, I clasp the pen and hand it to her with a mischievous grin. She takes it from me as my eyes travel up her bare legs. I slide my hand along her soft skin, taking my time as I feel my way up the inseam of her thigh.
She sucks in a deep breath, and a quiet moan escapes her lips when she lets it out. “Stop it, Tucker,” she whispers, but her body and how it responds to me say otherwise.
I stand, and she shoves her skirt down her thighs. “Like I said earlier.” She clears her throat. “Make an appointment with me. My calendar is online.”
I wink. “See you then.”
Chapter 12
Sam
Is Tucker right about me? I think so. Having his attention again after all these years has sparked something inside me. Desire, maybe? But isn’t that a natural reaction to a man like Tucker? Any woman with a pulse would feel even the slightest attraction to him.
I’m so messed up. Daddy issues, my therapist would tell me. Dr. Carson said I seek male approval because I never got it from my father.
Tucker’s wrong for me on every level. I shouldn’t even be thinking about him this way. He’s just another student—the cocky asshole who took my virginity. You never forget your first. And Tucker sure as hell was memorable.
Flipping through the papers on Professor Frazier’s desk, I skim the quizzes I’ve already graded. Tucker is my last afternoon appointment. Leaning back in the leather chair, I let out a breath of air and stare at the ceiling for a second, attempting to relax. My hands tremble, anxiety bubbling in my chest.
I can’t handle another headache between juggling multiple jobs, school, and my dad. Tucker will push my limits. I know he will. The carnal look in his eyes on Monday told me so.
He wants me.
I still want him.
I was in shock for hours after he touched my thigh in Professor Frazier’s classroom. He was so forward, making his intentions known. Or, at the very least, trying to convince me to bend to his will.
I’m the straitlaced girl who studies hard, gets good grades, and is the teacher’s pet. I earned the teaching assistant position, and Tucker will try to jeopardize my role. He has to get his way, no matter the cost. Guys like him don’t understand the meaning of no.
I have zero self-control around Tucker. The moment his hand caressed my skin and his fingers slid up my thigh, I couldn’t breathe, let alone think.
Keep it together.
You can do this, Sam.
Distracted by my thoughts, I look over when someone knocks on the open door. Tucker’s standing in the entryway with a wicked smirk on his lips. He’s wearing a navy tracksuit, the pants hanging low on his hips, and a fitted Strick U hockey tee. I stare far too long, which earns a chuckle from Tucker.
My mouth hangs open, my gaze focused on all the wrong parts of him. Or maybe the right ones, depending on how you look at it. Oh my God, what is wrong with me? Have I gone without sex for so long that I’m turning into a horny teenager around him?
This has to stop.
