Page 5 of Silk Sheets

“Yes?” he directed his attention to her for the first time since our late arrival.

“Solace Allard,” she smiled, showing her perfectly white teeth. Her smile was indeed a killer. “Do you exercise often?” she asked, and mentally, I shook my head at her.I know exactly what she’s doing.

“Yes, I do,” he gave her a curt nod.

“At home or the gym?”

“Both,” he vaguely answered.

Right as he was about to shift his attention to another student, I spoke up.

“Cardio?” I asked, standing up. “Dakota King,” I added my name, not breaking eye contact.

Male professors all had a natural reaction when sensing inappropriate behaviors from students towards them.

The girls on campus didn’t outright flirt, but they made little comments, the kind that hung in the air longer than necessary. They smiled a little too much, or even leaned in just a little too close when they asked a question.

It was like they knew exactly how to get under the professor’s skin without crossing any lines, and the professor, well, he’d just freeze. And that’s exactly what I wanted from Professor Hale.

“It’s part of my morning routine, so yes,” he sternly answered my question.

“Oh, so not nightly then?” Solace piped up, but his eyes didn’t dare leave mine. Goosebumps pricked up my nape, and for the first time, I broke eye contact.

“Sometimes, Miss Allard,” he met her gaze and she grinned, nodding in understanding.

I noticed the looks the girls shot each other, and we both thanked him before sitting down.

We were all thinking the exact same thing, but can you blame us? All the professors on campus were either over fifty and greying, married and looking for a piece of ass on the side, or, well gay.

And neither of them—that I had met—carried themselves the way Professor Hale did. He had an intriguing aura, and it was… tempting.

“You’re crazy,” I whispered to Solace.

“He didn’t have to embarrass us so early in the damn morning. And, it’s his first day. Shouldn’t he be nice to us to earn some brownie points?” she rhetorically asked.

“We’re not in high school. College professors are here for one thing, and one thing only,” I reminded her.

“To get paid—”

“To get laid—”

We both spoke in unison before snapping our heads to each other. “Paid, Solace. Paid,” I corrected her.

“Sure, sweet thing,” she winked at me before we turned our attention to the front of the class.

After everyone got their questions out, he proceeded with the lesson.

It was extremely hard to focus on what he was saying because my traitorous eyes only seemed to focus on his hands. His big, veiny hands.

Shiny rings decorated his pointer, middle and pinky finger, and an expensive watch wrapped around his right wrist, so he was most probably left-handed. My thoughts were confirmed when he twirled a pen between his fingers, light eyes glued to his computer screen before he jotted something down.

Every time I’d catch myself daydreaming about his stupid hands, I’d mentally knock myself back into reality.

Class was finally over, and I needed to get out to clear my head. I wasofficiallylosing it.

“Don’t make it a habit,” Professor Hale said before Solace and I could leave.

In confusion, we looked at each other, unsure whether or not he was speaking to us since he was casually typing on his computer.