Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
I still didn’t wish it hadn’t happened.
I slept with my professor. My totally hot, totally amazing, totally mind-blowingly good at fucking me economics professor.
Slowly, I pulled the blankets back down and glanced around the room. It was so nice in there. I’d loved my Grams’s house, but it’d been nothing like this. And this was certainly leagues better than friend’s dorm room couches, or my car, or way better than Matt’s gross little apartment, pretending I was on my period so he wouldn’t try and fuck me.
I shivered. Ick.
No this was just so warm and nice and peaceful. My parents hadn’t really ever been there, even before they died. Mom was always in and out, and my dad was just mostly a drunk asshole who’d hit my mom and sometimes me when he was mad. But Nolan’s house? Yeah, this just felt like home, as weird as it was to even think that.
I sank into the sheets, remembering the night before — his eyes blazing at me through that mask. The way his hands had grabbed me so tight, like I was his to hold. The way his lips had tasted and the way he’d slammed me against that bathroom door and claimed my mouth. The way his thick, perfect cock had eased inside of me, filling and stretching me open like no other man ever had. I mean, I’d only slept with my high school boyfriend and Matt, so it’s not like I had a lot of comparing to do. But holy shit, Nolan had been insanely amazing.
Except…
Except he was my professor. And judging from the way he’d pulled away from me when I’d decided to go full psycho and kiss him again, he wasn’t exactly happy about what’d happened.
I groaned.
Yeah, I was going to have to face that music. I mean, I guess I could have just slunk out of the house like a weirdo, but I’d see him in class eventually. For the rest of the semester, I’d have to sit in his class twice a week and look at him, trying to pay attention to his lessons when I knew all I’d be thinking about was his big, perfect cock driving between my legs until I screamed in pleasure.
My teacher — the man who’d fucked me, the man who’d made me come harder than anything I’d ever known. The man who’d saved me, who’d took me home, who I’d then kissed.
I groaned into my hand again before I finally flung the blankets off and slid out of bed. I dragged myself to the big floor length mirror and took stock of the situation.
…I really wished I had some more clothes.
For one, I looked ridiculous absolutely swimming in Nolan’s big basketball jersey. I’d rolled the running shorts up, but they still hung off of me, no matter how tight I tried to pull the drawstring. I mean, they were literally falling off my hips, showing my panties for God’s sake. And that jersey — yeah, no. The arm holes were so big, you could basically see all of my tits from the side. I couldn’t exactly go down to breakfast in that, now could I?
Ahhh, but then I did still have my costume — the stupid one Matt had bought for me and made me go out in the night before to that costume party. I groaned as I stared at the skirt and the blouse I’d draped over a chair. Silly, ridiculous, and totally slutty, and it was still better than my nipples showing and my thong panties and half my ass peeking out of the shorts.
Barely.
I slipped Nolan’s clothes off and pulled the schoolgirl outfit back on. I frowned, trying to fix my hair in the mirror and wishing I had makeup with me, before I stopped myself. God, here I was primping for him. Here I was trying to look my best for a man I should have nothing to do with except listening to lectures and turning in homework. I turned to put my hand on the doorknob when I froze.
Oh, fuck.
Because right then, I remembered the rest of the night before, beyond having banged my professor.
“You’re not my only houseguest.”
My stomach dropped as my heart flipped. Right, it wasn’t just that I was waking up in my economics professor’s house. It was that he wasn’t the only man here. There were two other ones staying with him in the huge house, and even worse than that, one of them was another professor of mine.
I wasn’t just ambling downstairs dressed like a freaking porn cliché to one man, I was going to walk down there to three men — my gorgeous economics professor who I’d slept with, the equally swoon-worthy and hot Professor Garret Cole, and God only knew who mystery man number three was.