Her Possessive Professor by Gena Snow

Chapter 1

 

Jared

 

 

 

 

 

I’m finally home after spending two months traveling in Europe. Alton, a small town in Northern California, the place my ancestors founded two hundred years ago and where I spent most of my life, seems boring although peaceful. I lie on the chaise by the pool, reading for the modern poetry class I’ll teach next week. I’ve read these poems so often I can recite most of them, but still, I feel like I’m reading them for the first time. I guess that’s what makes them great.

If my stomach doesn’t complain, I’ll stay where I am until the mosquitos attack me.

But a whiff of barbeque smoke from a neighboring house arouses my hunger, and I put down the book. I need to get something to eat.

I’m heading to a steakhouse on Main Street in town, but when I catch the sight of Tropic of Cancer, a restaurant bar I frequented before the summer, I decide I need a drink as well.

I knew the bartender Jeremy well from my previous visits. The guy was talkative and funny, and I miss talking to him.

When I get in the bar, however, I don’t see Jeremy. Instead of the big tattooed fellow, I see a petite woman in a red dress. She stands with her back toward me. I notice first the long blond hair reaching her shoulders and then her delicious curves that culminate into a perky round shape that begs to be touched.

I don’t think I’ve seen her before. I look around, and there aren’t any familiar faces at all. A couple more women are on the premises, all dressed in scanty outfits, showing their feminine assets. I recall in an instant my brother Nick, who owns and manages the property, telling me the business wasn’t doing well and was for sale a few months ago. It doesn’t take me long to put two and two together. It seems like the new tenant of the place is trying new strategies to boost the business.

As I’m still contemplating, the woman at the counter turns and takes my breath away. Holy shit. She’s stunning! Those dreamlike, hazel eyes capture my soul the instant they focus on me. Her lips, coated cherry red, make my mouth dry. My eyes glide lower to her swanlike neckline and onto the top of her snow-white globes. Fuck me. I can’t help imagining what’s hidden. How good it would be if I could just bury my face in that enticing valley and sniff her milky scent.

What the hell is wrong with me? I don’t hit on a woman I see for the first time. But then, I’ve never seen a woman as flawless as she is. She’s perfect. She’s mine. I have the impulse to wrap her in my arms, shield her from the eyes of the lascivious men around us.

My lust must be written on my face because the woman blushes. “Good evening, sir,” she says warily. “How may I help you?”

“I, I would like to,” My mouth feels dry, and I, an English professor, can’t summon the right words or proper sentence. I clear my throat, inhale some air, and glance at her nametag. “Good evening to you, too, Hailey. My name is Jared.”

“Hi, Jared, nice to meet you.” She smiles warmly at me. “What would you like to order?”

My cock twitches. That smile makes her even more beautiful.

I glance at the menu, but nothing registers, and I give up trying. “You know what? I don’t have any preference. Why don’t you make me a drink that you’re good at, and I’ll order some dinner later.”

“Sure,” she says. “I’ll make you a dry martini.”

The new management is undoubtedly successful because the crowds just get thicker with every passing minute. The counter is full before I even finish my first drink. I order a sirloin steak sandwich along with another martini.

When I’m about to pay my tab, a guy who sits at the other end of the counter says to Hailey, “Honey, give me my tab with your number on it.”

What a jerk. Anger flares as I glare at him. But Hailey doesn’t seem to mind. “Sure, Mister,” she says calmly as she prints out the check and scribbles something on it before passing it to the man.

“Wait a minute,” the guy stares at it and grumbles. “It’s the bar’s number.”

“Isn’t it what you want?” Hailey asks, her innocent eyes blinking.

“No, I want your personal number.”

“Oh, that. I’m afraid you don’t have enough points for it yet,” she says with a professional smile. “To get my number, you’ll need to earn a hundred points first. For each time I serve you at the bar, you get one point.”

A feisty woman. I stifle a chuckle. What impresses me the most is that she doesn’t sound conceited at all but looking all business.

“Ah, I see,” the guy says, nodding. “You’re playing hard to get.”

Hailey shrugs. “I’m not an easy girl.”

After the guy leaves, I say to her, “He gives up easily.”

“Exactly.”

“I wouldn’t mind waiting for three months to get your number,” I say in a low voice, teasing her.

“Three months?” she chuckles. “I’m afraid you need to work on your math. I’m only here twice a week on weekends.”

“A year, then?” I say with a gasp. “I’m afraid I can’t wait that long.” And then I write my number on my tab and pass it to her.

She blushes when she understands what it is.

“Mine isn’t free, but you’ve earned enough points for it, honey,” I say.

“Thanks,” she says as she pushes the bill on top of a stack next to the cash register, the corners of her mouth curved upwards despite her attempt not to smile.

She’s mine. I assure myself. “So you’re here only on weekends?”

“Yes. Saturdays and Sundays.”

“Perfect,” I say. “I’ll be seeing you a lot.” I don’t know why I say that because I haven’t planned it.

She smiles. “Great.”

Before leaving, I go to the restroom to splash cold water on my face. When I step into the parking through the bar's back entrance, I run into Hailey, who’s on her break.

She’s leaning against the wall by the back door and reading on her phone.

“What’re you reading?” I ask.

She looks startled. “Just a silly story,” she says, putting the phone in her pocket.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t mean to interrupt. Go on,” I say.

“Oh it’s fine,” she says, smiling at me.

From her blush, I have the feeling that she likes me. Or it could be my wishful thinking.

We stand so close I can smell her sweet, rose scented perfume. There’s something special about her. She doesn’t look like she belongs here. She looks a bit bookish. She should be working in an office, in front of a computer, or at a library. What’s wrong with me?

“So, what’s the story about?”

She chuckles. “I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll think it’s silly. Guys aren’t supposed to be interested in this kind of trashy stories.”

The word trashy makes me curious. “Try me!” I insist.

“No!”

“If it’s silly, then why do you read it?”

“Because it’s fun.” She blushes deeper.

“What do you mean by fun?” I ask. My voice sounds gruff because I guess the meaning of it.

“I can’t tell you,” she whispers.

The evening breeze ruffles her hair, and I have the impulse to smooth it for her, but I shove my hand into my jean pocket instead. We are strangers, but there’s undeniable electricity between us. I can even hear the crackles of the energy. Our eyes seldom leave each other for more than a second. I don’t know her at all, but I feel the connection between us. I know her soft curves will fit perfectly into my hard muscles, and she has the power to soothe the ache that’s growing in my groin.

Time seems to stop during the moment I stand next to her, my heavy breathing betraying my attraction for her. Hailey’s face turns a lovely crimson when she fumbles for her phone again. “Shit. Time is up,” she says and turns abruptly, and then she wobbles on her high heels. I reach a hand to help her gain her balance. 

“Thanks,” she says, letting me hold her. “I can never get used to these heels. I much prefer sneakers, but they don’t match the dress, you know?”

She blabbers on as if to hide her embarrassment. I don’t hear a word she says. All I know is she’s in my arms, her curves softer than I’ve imagined. Her soft breasts are brushing against my shirt and my hand is resting on her ass. My blood rushes south and renders my brain useless. I bend down like a hungry animal driven by primal instinct and kiss those lovely lips that I’ve been craving since I saw her an hour ago.

She doesn’t struggle. Instead, she grazes back and whimpers. She presses her body against mine and wriggles a bit, making my cock even harder. Our kiss deepens when our tongues meet, and my hand finds its way to under her skirt. God! She feels good. Smooth, soft, and round.

My hand is slipping between her legs when we hear footsteps heading toward the door.

She pulls away from me, and I let her go reluctantly.

We stand apart like strangers when a couple of customers walk past us to their cars.

“Excuse me,” Hailey says as she reaches the door. “I’ve got to go.”