Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
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.
Tucker taps the wood hard and then strolls through the door, broad-shouldered and oozing sex appeal. He closes the door and locks it behind him. And I still can’t breathe.
What is he doing?
Say something, Sam.
With a crooked grin on his handsome face, he sits in front of me, leaning back in his chair. “Samantha, are you ready for me?”
Am I ready?
No.
I can’t stand to be in the same room as Tucker. One look from him, and I’m crossing my legs, too aware of how wet he’s making my panties.
Clearing my throat, I sit up straight and retrieve a blank quiz from the inner flap in the organizer on my desk. I shove it across the desk in front of Tucker. “You have one hour.”
He glances at the paper, then looks up at me while licking his lips. Why does he keep doing that? I want to tell him to stop. Our relationship has to remain professional. I don’t even like him. He’s a horrible asshole who fucked me and then walked away like it meant nothing to him.
Because it meant nothing to him.
I was just sex.
He was the man who ripped off the Band-Aid of my virginity. I knew what I was getting with him, even though I hoped for more. Maybe I hate him for all the wrong reasons. But I don’t think he deserves a second chance.
He will earn his grade.
“Stop distracting me,” Tucker says, sliding his chair closer to the desk. “I can’t focus when you do that.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Do what?”
“Twirl your hair around your index finger.”
I stop twisting the strand of hair and lower my hand to my lap. Until he mentioned it, I wasn’t even aware I was doing it. Call it a nervous tick, I guess.
“Stop looking at me and pay attention to your quiz,” I shoot back, a defiant smirk turning up the corner of my mouth. “Now you have fifty-seven minutes. The clock is ticking, Tucker.”