Curveball(15)

With one look in my direction, she makes my dick hard, as if she willed it to happen.

“Quit it,” Luca grunts as he elbows me in the chest. “What the hell are you smiling at?”

Uncrossing my arms from my chest, I set my legs on the floor and bend over to retrieve my bag to place it over my growing erection. “Nothing. I was just thinking about something.”

Hunter leans over, his head peeking out from behind Luca’s left shoulder. “Bullshit. Did you get into Dirty Dan’s stash again?”

“Nah.” My nose scrunches in disgust as I recall the last time I got so drunk that I smoked whatever the hell our fraternity brother had added to his mystery weed. “I’m never smoking that shit again. I was rolling for eight hours last time.”

“You’re supposed to be getting ready for baseball season, not jerking off like last semester,” Luca interjects, typing out a message on his cell phone.

“Thanks, Dad, but I’ve been training with the team since September, so I don’t need you crawling up my ass. I think you need to mind your own business and reattach your balls that you seem to have misplaced. Or is Izzie holding on to them for you?”

Luca punches me in the arm, the force of his fist meeting my flesh making a sound in the quiet auditorium, but it’s not hard enough to do more than make it sting for a second.

“Dick,” he grumbles. “They’re right fucking here.” He grabs his crotch over his jeans.

I laugh. “That’s debatable.”

“That’s not what your mom said last night.”

Now, I’m the one punching him in his arm.

“Is there a problem?”

I look to the center of the room and spot Teach with a paper in one hand, the other on her hip. She oozes sex, and as her lips part in disapproval, the only thing I can think of is how they felt while wrapped around my cock. My size intimidates most girls. They give me those lazy licks and only take half of me in their mouths. But my new professor knows how to take one for the team. And she’s an excellent ball handler.

“No,” I shoot back, winking. “All good, Teach.”

“Then, what was the last thing I said?” she challenges.

I want to bend her over her desk and fuck the sexy grin off her face. She screamed my name so many times in the few hours I spent at her apartment, and I want her to do it again and again until her mouth gets dry and her moans die off in her throat.

“You were telling the class what kind of apples you like.” I laugh to myself, especially when I see her eyebrows rise in confusion. “Green or red?”

“Excuse me? What kind of apples I like? That has nothing to do with ethics, Mr.…” She holds out her right hand, waiting for me to answer.

“Montgomery,” I supply. “Mark Montgomery. But I’m sure you already figured that out.”

“Is that so?”

I lean forward and place my forearms on my thighs, hunched over. “I’m willing to bet it’s on the sheet in your hand. If I’m right, you have to answer my question.”

She huffs and rolls her eyes at me. “I don’t have to do anything. You are the student, and I am your professor.”

The way she emphasizes the words student and professor makes me realize she’s probably freaking out that I will expose what happened between us.

Not a chance.

“Humor me,” I retort.

She glances down at the paper clutched between her fingers, her cheeks growing redder by the second. Then, she peeks up at me from beneath her brows, holding back a smile. “Red,” she says, resolute.

“Hmm…” I lick my lips, and hers part in response, but she quickly recoups and closes her mouth. “Red is my favorite, too. They have the sweetest juice.”

She coughs and loudly clears her throat. Then, she takes a sip from the coffee cup on her desk. “Like I was saying before I was interrupted…”

Her eyes shift to the other side of the classroom, the blush from her cheeks spreading down her throat and to her neck. I love seeing her so vulnerable. It reminds me of every second she spent beneath me. I need to be inside her again, every part of her, owning every inch of her sexy body.

After the class ends and students file out the doors, I stay behind, waiting in the back of the room, until only Teach and I are left. She damn well knows I am here, yet she sits at her desk, her eyes pointed to the book she’s scribbling on at a feverish pace. I stroll down the aisle and place my palms flat on her desk, leaning over so that our faces are only a few inches apart.

“You can’t ignore me for the rest of the semester, Teach. Or should I call you Professor Ford?”

She glances up at me, annoyed, with those icy-blue eyes that send chills down my spine and go straight to my balls. “I can, and I will, Mr. Montgomery. Watch me.” Her silky blonde hair covers her face as she tilts her head down and continues to write in her book.

As I reach across her desk to touch her hand, she freezes, and her entire body tenses up. Sucking in a deep breath, she holds it for far too long before letting it out.

“We can’t do this. I am your professor, and you are my student.”

“We already did this,” I challenge, lowering my voice. “I know what sounds you make when you come, how hard you like to be fucked, and how good your pussy tastes.”