Getting Schooled (Craving #9)

  Getting

  Schooled

  A Craving Anthology

  Getting Schooled: A Craving Anthology

  Copyright © 2018.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: December 2018

  Crave Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  http://www.cravepublishing.net/

  Formatting: Crave Publishing, LLC

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-500-3

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-500-0

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  BAD BEHAVIOR

  By Bella J.

  Black, White, and Gray

  By HL Nighbor

  Duty BOUND

  By Allysia Myers

  Educating the Professor

  By Dakota Star

  Extracurricular Activities

  By KL Ramsey

  Schooling Sara

  By Rita Delude

  The Professor

  By Kenadee Bryant

  The Teacher’s Rules

  By Poppy Dubois

  Third Time Lucky

  By Chevoque

  BAD BEHAVIOR

  By Bella J

  Chapter 1

  Olivia

  I knew it was wrong. It was so, so, so very wrong. But I couldn’t stop it—the sinful thoughts and naughty little fantasies. My mind was filled with them while I stared at him, watching him, scrutinizing his every move—because honestly, everything about him demanded my undivided attention. The way he pulled his hand through his chestnut hair—a color that reminded me of earthy tones and primal instincts. How he would adjust his black-framed glasses, hiding those slate-gray eyes with hints of blue. God, his eyes were beautiful. Magnetic. Captivating with its connotations of coolness. Every time he looked at me, it felt like he stared right through me, saw every dirty thought I ever had about him.

  Maybe he knew. Maybe he sensed my attraction toward him, how my body wanted him, craved him. When he walked into the classroom twenty minutes ago, when our eyes met, I was sure I saw a glint of mischief in his eyes. It felt like a wave of energy erupted between us, and I wanted nothing more than to be consumed by it.

  Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. Nothing but a girl’s dream to be ravished by the hottest man on campus.

  I leaned forward, my elbows on the desk, playing with the cap of my pen between my teeth. The black twill chino pants he wore hugged his tight, firm ass perfectly. Those were clearly the end result of hours spent in the gym, working up a sweat, getting the blood flowing, and pumping those muscles hard and incessantly. Dear Lord, I could sit around all day dreaming about his strong body, ripped and shredded in all the right places, his heated skin glistening with wicked temptation.

  It was easy to see why I heard his name so many times while walking down the halls. Girls couldn’t stop talking about him, and his name would usually be followed by words like “sexy, hot, gorgeous…fuck.” Fuck.

  I wondered what it would sound like, screaming out his name right here in this classroom while I had my legs spread out wide just for him. “Oh, Professor Scott. Yes…yes…” I shifted in my seat and crossed my legs, trying to relieve a little of the throbbing ache between my thighs.

  He turned to face the class, his eyes cutting directly to me, holding my gaze for just a second before he looked away.

  “The goal of this class is to get you to think creatively, analytically about the English language.” He leaned back against his desk, all buff and perfect, the epitome of authority and confidence. “Bottom line, if you signed up for this class to be spoon-fed instead of developing your own understanding of the English language, then I would suggest you leave right now. I’m not here to hold your hand nor to give you motivational pep talks in order to get through the semester. I’m here for one reason, and one reason only,” his eyes met mine, and I felt the intensity of his gaze shoot right down my spine, “and that’s to make sure you get exactly what you came here for.” I shivered, clenching my thighs tighter together while holding my breath, waiting, anticipating what his next words would be. Our eyes remained locked for a second longer before he broke eye contact, his gaze sweeping across the room. “And that is your degree in English Literature.”

  Well, fuck. I finally let out my breath.

  A sexy as hell smirk curved at the corners of his mouth, and I sucked on my bottom lip, thinking that getting my degree could not have been further from my mind right now. My body was on fucking fire, and there was just one man who had what it took to extinguish the flames. The hot as fuck Professor Noah Scott.

  He pushed himself away from his desk, those strong, muscular arms still crossed in front of his chest. The sleeves of his white dress shirt had been rolled up just below his elbows, giving me the perfect view of those bulging veins below his flawless, tanned skin. There was something primal about it, seeing evidence of the blood that flowed beneath the surface. I could practically hear his fucking heartbeat.

  My tongue swirled around the tip of my pen when I held up my hand. “Professor Scott?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t even look my way as he rounded his desk, acting aloof and uninterested.

  “I was wondering, since you made it clear you won’t be holding our hands, does that mean you won’t be available for—let’s say,” I feigned a look of thought, “extra tutoring lessons…of any kind?” With my cherry red lips pulled in a seductive smirk, I bit down on the pen in my mouth.

  Professor Scott cleared his throat before finally looking my way. “You are Miss…?”

  “Reed. Olivia Reed.”

  He smiled, and I swear to God my panties wanted to rip themselves. “Miss Reed, let’s get the semester started first before we discuss the issue of extra tutoring.”

  I uncrossed and then crossed my legs again. “Duly noted, Professor.”

  His eyes snapped down to my legs, his gaze lingering just a little longer than what would be considered appropriate. A slight thrill swept through my core. Did he like what he saw? What I was so willingly showing him?

  He cleared his throat with his fist in front of his mouth, drawing all my attention to those enticing lips, making me wish I could feel them against my skin—my shoulders, my neck, softly brushing across my heated flesh.

  “Studying literature is like studying the history of thought.” He leisurely walked from his desk to the other side of the classroom. “We’re looking at cultural and social moments that moved writers to produce these great works of art.”

  Immediately, I put my hand up. “Professor Scott?”

  He bit into his lower lip before acknowledging me with a glance. “Yes, Miss Reed.”

  I flipped my long golden blonde curls over my shoulder. “As we all know, erotic romance novels have taken the twenty-first century by storm. What kind of cultural and social moments—as you put it—do you think move authors to write about lust, and sex, and all the carnal desires of the human race?”

  The way his cheeks blushed the faintest shade of pink made me smile like the Cheshire cat. I loved the fact that I had just put all these thoughts in his head. Once you managed to get a man to think about sex, it was almost impossible for them to stop thinking about it. It was like planting a
little seed, and within minutes, it would bloom into something un-fucking-stoppable.

  “Well, Miss Reed,” he paced to the other side of the room, seemingly deep in thought, “I think the reason erotic romance has become such a big part of English literature is the fact that the human race are no longer ashamed of—as you put it—their carnal desires.” He glanced my way, and I spotted that familiar glint of mischief in his gray eyes immediately. “Society today no longer feels the need to hide their sexuality since it’s such a natural and primal part of who we are.” His voice dipped low, the words leaving his mouth with slow, seductive tones. “It’s in our nature, Miss Reed, to crave it, to want it, and the truth is,” he took off his glasses, those steel irises pinned on me, “we just cannot live without it. Sex, that is.”

  If we weren’t currently surrounded by an entire class of students, my panties would have hit the floor and my legs would have been behind my ears by the time the word “sex” left his lips.

  I leaned back in my chair. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, Professor Scott.”

  A grin remained on his lips, the five o’clock shadow painted across his strong jaw giving him just a touch of edge and roughness along with his perfectly sophisticated demeanor.

  “Great.” He put his glasses back on and focused on the other students. I almost pouted with disappointment. I liked it when I had his attention—like a little girl, I wanted to stomp my feet in order to get it. Rubbing his fists together, he walked back to his desk. “By reading and discussing literature, it’s like we get a feeling of what it meant to be alive during a specific period of time.” He lifted his arms in the air. “It’s like a modern way to time travel.” The smile that spread from one corner of his lips to the other showed every ounce of passion he felt for the English language, how much he loved what he did. And that only added to his already blazing sex appeal, his enthusiasm, the zeal he so proudly showed for something he cared deeply about.

  “So your first assignment of the semester is to read a piece I’m sure all of you are familiar with. The Divine Comedy, Inferno by Dante Alighieri.” He grabbed a few papers on his desk and handed them to the first person of every row to pass down. “In tomorrow’s class, we will discuss your thoughts on this poem.”

  The guy in front of me turned to face me, his dark brown eyes raking all the way down my neck, settling on the fair amount of cleavage I was sporting under the white silk blouse, the two top buttons purposely left unbuttoned. He reached out and handed me a copy of the paper before holding out his hand. “I’m Thomas.”

  I smiled politely while shaking his hand. “Olivia.”

  He bit into his bottom lip, obviously appreciating everything I had to flaunt. “Please tell me we have other classes together.”

  With a gentle tug, I removed my hand from his. “I doubt it.” College guys were not my thing. They were just human vessels filled with muscle and hormones. A girl like me needed so much more than that. I needed mental stimulation as much as I needed the physical—which was why I was all over our dear, hot as fuck Professor Scott.

  I glanced his way and saw how he stared at me and my new friend, Thomas. The scowl on his face formed little grooves on his forehead, those slate gray eyes suddenly a hard steel. If I wasn’t mistaken, I would have thought he was jealous. Nothing got a man’s blood pumping like a little jealousy.

  Flicking my tongue over my lips, I leaned forward, pushing the C-cup twins further under Thomas’s not-so-subtle gaze. The guy was practically gawking and drooling all over his charcoal-colored designer shirt—which did nothing for his complexion, by the way.

  “Do you play lacrosse, Thomas?”

  He cocked a brow. “Of course I do.”

  I sat back, flicking a quick glance toward Professor Scott, who still had his glare glued on us. “Good. Guess I’ll see you at practice then.”

  “Practice?” The boy seemed confused.

  “I’m trying out for the cheerleading team after class.”

  His eyes lit up like a lightbulb. “Oh, yeah. Then I’ll see you on the field.” He winked, then got up from his seat, flinging his backpack over one shoulder. “Professor Scott is pretty hardcore on the field. He’s our lacrosse trainer. Guy has the stamina of a fucking horse. But I’ll make sure to check you ladies out.”

  Professor Scott is the lacrosse trainer? Well, well, well.

  I puckered my red lips into a seductive smile. “I’ll be the one wearing the short black skirt.”

  Predictably, Thomas leaned slightly to the side, sucking on his bottom lip as he took a peek at my legs under the desk. “Hmm-mm, you sure will.” He winked at me. “I’ll see you later.”

  I had to suppress the need to roll my eyes at his lame attempt at being sexy. Nothing about a guy who practically walked with his dick on his shoulder was in any way attractive or appealing.

  While the rest of the class made their way out the door, I waited patiently in my seat. Two girls walked past Professor Scott’s desk, not even trying to hide the way they undressed him with their mouse-colored eyes. It was pathetic, really, how they smiled at him and giggled like two year olds when they walked out. Did they really think a man like Professor Scott would be into size zero asses and sunken cheeks? He seemed more like the kind of man who appreciated curves in all the right places—firm flesh to dig his fingers into.

  Just as the last few students made their way out, I got up from my seat and turned to pick up my backpack from the ground. The fabric of my black mini skirt skidded up my thighs as I bent forward, and that was when I felt his hot gaze on me. I felt it in the way shivers bolted up my spine, my skin erupting into fiery goosebumps. Shifting from one leg to the other, I stood up straight while flicking my hair over my shoulder.

  As I turned, I yelped, realizing Professor Scott was standing right behind me. When did he…?

  “Didn’t you forget something?” He stared down at me with those mesmerizing eyes, no trace of his black-framed glasses. His gray gaze dropped to my lips, his tall frame and broad shoulders casting a shadow over me. My heart started to beat a staccato rhythm against my ribs, and heat slowly moved down my spine.

  “And what did I forget…Professor?”

  “This.” He leaned forward, the wild scent of sandalwood and black pepper assaulting all my senses. It surrounded me, enveloped me, and all I wanted to do was get lost in it—get lost in him. With a fast beating heart and a body which hummed with need, I watched as he crouched down in front of me. He reached out to the white piece of paper that laid on the floor behind my feet, and I almost lost my balance when I felt his warm breath caress the naked skin of my legs. It was fucking unreal how this man affected me without even touching me. I was pretty sure if he stayed down there long enough, breathing against my thighs, I’d come within ten fucking seconds.

  The subtlest touch of his arm against my leg sent a soft, subtle whimper over my lips. Naked flesh against naked flesh. My mind was fucking reeling, my body weeping between my thighs.

  Slowly he straightened, his eyes dark and hooded, almost heady as he stared down at me. “You dropped your assignment for tomorrow.”

  “Well, thank God you picked it up for me.” No really, thank God.

  He inched closer, and my pulse started to race, my lips anticipating the slow burn of his kiss. “Have a nice day, Miss Reed.”

  Could I come? Could I please just come already? Jesus Christ.

  He stepped back, and I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. I lifted a brow while puckering my lips, allowing my gaze to smooth down his body. “Good day, Professor.”

  With my black heels clicking across the floor, I walked past him, making sure there were only a few inches of distance between us. But I felt his gaze on me as I walked away. I felt it burn through my skin.

  “Oh, Miss Reed?”

  “Yes…Professor?” I glanced over my shoulder, and his gaze moved down to my ass before looking back up at my face.

  “That skirt might be consid
ered slightly inappropriate,” he leaned his head to the side, “and a little provocative.”

  “Just a little? Hmm. I’ll be sure to wear something shorter next time.”

  He smiled, seemingly amused, and I walked out of the classroom, swaying my hips like a pro. The least I could do while he stared at my ass was give him a good show.

  Chapter 2

  Noah

  I’ve been a professor for a few years now. Being flirted with, and dealing with girls whose hormones were hotter than fucking July, was nothing new to me. But I didn’t take any of their advances seriously. Most of the time I would just laugh it off, thinking that if they only knew how silly they were, they would stop making fools of themselves immediately.

  Sure, there are a lot of pretty girls, some I would even consider really, really hot—but none of them ever seemed appealing to me other than mere eye candy. That was until I walked into class earlier, spotting the new girl sitting in the back row. The moment I saw her, it was like I could feel the crackle of electricity all the way across the room.

  Beautiful, lush, blonde curls hung down her shoulders. They almost seemed like strands of gold under the lights of the classroom. And those full, cherry-red lips caught my attention immediately. My first thought wasn’t what was this gorgeous blonde woman doing in my classroom? No. My first thought was how it would look staring down at her on her knees, those red lips wrapped around my cock like a vise, eating it like it was her last fucking meal. It was more about the image than the actual feeling that had my balls all tight.

  I was so taken aback by the sudden onslaught of dirty images that bombarded my mind, it took me a good five minutes to get a fucking grip and actually start doing what I came here to do. Teach. But the entire time, I was so hyper aware of her presence, of the way she stared at me while playing with the end of her pen between her teeth, it was a constant battle to convince my dick to behave.