Forbidden Men Book 2: To Professor, with Love
Author
Linda Kage
Reads
274K
Chapters
34
CHAPTER ONE
âBegin at the beginning,â the King said, very gravely, âand go on till you come to the end; then stop.â â Lewis Carroll, Aliceâs Adventures in Wonderland
NOEL
A sick nausea swirled through me as I stared at the paper in my suddenly clammy hand.
Sheâd given me another D. Iâd actually tried, too. I had planted my ass in a chair, focused all my attention on the assignment, and typed out the complete required five pages of crap. There hadnât been a single plagiarized line in the entire essay either.
And it had all been for another fucking D?
âUnbelievable,â I gritted out under my breath.
âDid you say something, Mr. Gamble?â
I lifted my face from the big red D on my paper to find dark eyebrows arched in smug supremacy. A shrewd green gaze penetrated me, daring me to question my score.
Jaw locked, I shook my head, my neck so stiff from the lie I barely got it to move. âNope,â I said, my voice low enough it was barely audible. âDidnât say a thing.â Not one damn thing.
Dr. Kavanagh eyed me a second longer, her expression gloating. I knew my narrow-eyed glare and clenched teeth only fed her ego, but I couldnât help it. I also couldnât help the way my stupid, betraying man-whore eyes sought her ass when she turned and continued up the row between desks to hand out the rest of her graded papers. Fortunately, the hem of her frumpy suit jacket dipped down to cover the back of her skirt, hiding any feminine curves she might have, because Iâm not sure I couldâve fully appreciated a nice ass at the moment.
But being rejected from the view only pissed me off more. It figured she would give a guy a sucky grade and then deny him the pleasure of ogling some tight, rounded goodness. Didnât matter how ridiculous she looked in that getup eitherâkind of like a little girl invading her grandparentsâ closet to play dress-upâan ass was an ass, and I wanted a glimpse. Blame my Y chromosome.
Eyeing her huge shoulder pads and her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, I was tempted to tell her the eighties had called, wanting their blazer back. Itâd probably coax a derisive laugh from the class. Iâd maybe even get her to blush or some shit, which would sure as hell make me feel better for the way sheâd just humiliated me. Tit for tat and all that. But my jaw refused to unclench enough to form actual words.
Seriously, how dare she give me another D after all the work Iâd put into her stupid assignment? Did she realize how hard Iâd tried, how much I needed a decent score?
âPsst. Hey, Gam.â Oren Tenning, my favorite first-string receiver and roommate, leaned across the aisle to get my attention. âHowâd you do?â
I rolled my eyes in the irritated universal symbol for donât ask. âYou?â
âAnother C. I swear Kavanagh is afraid of handing out an A.â
âI got an A.â Sidney Chin, the ultimate teacherâs pet, twisted in her seat to wave her paper merrily in our faces.
As the scarlet letter at the top of her essay flashed by, I noticed there was also a plus sign attached to it. There had been no such positive mark beside my D.
Tenning snorted. âThatâs because you have tits, honey. I swear to God, Kavanagh must be a dyke. She doesnât give an A to anyone with a dick, especially if heâs on the football team.â
I winced at his offensive retort, wondering how long itâd take before one of his stupid-ass comments got him into trouble, even as I silently agreed about the football part of what heâd said. Kavanagh had treated me like a dumb jock from the moment sheâd discovered I was the universityâs starting quarterback. It was completely beside the point that I was a jock and not at all academically inclined. But I tried, damn it. Wasnât like I blew off the work for better things; Iâd actually put a lot of fucking effort into making a good grade.
Did she have to so gleefully rub my shortcomings in my face?
âIf anyone has questions about your grade, feel free to see me after class.â Her voice rose above the hushed conversations echoing around the room, making me roll my eyes.
Yeah, right. I bet I could go see her about my score. Sheâd probably turn my D into an F if I questioned her hallowed opinion.
But Jesus Christ, what the hell was I supposed to do now?
Rubbing the center of my forehead as a headache started, I tried to calm myself because this wasnât the end of the world just yet. It was barely March. I still had time to repair my grade, but holy freaking hell. With each paper Iâd written in this class, Iâd put in twice the effort, only to get half the score. I was going to lose my scholarship if I didnât pull at least a C in Modern American Literature. And I needed this scholarship. More than I needed anything.
âSince The Great Gatsby is now out of the way, weâre going to begin Steinbeckâs The Grapes of Wrath next. I want everyone to read the first hundred pages and make a few notes about how the theme of changing your dreams is important in the text. Weâll discuss our discoveries the next time we meet.â
As she blathered on about symbolism and some other writerly crap I didnât get, I flipped open the book to the back where biographies were kept so I could scan Steinbeckâs details. When I realized good olâ John had been born in 1902, I snorted. What part of over a century old made this modern literature? Jesus.
â...and with that, I hope everyone has a great weekend.â Dr. Kavanaghâs chipper voice grated against my already pounding temples. âSee you guys next Tuesday.â
Oh, I was sure sheâd have a grand weekend. She was about to ruin the life of her least favorite student. All was roses on her end of the spectrum.
As people around me gathered their things, I shoved my worthless essay into the depths of my bag along with my English book, wondering why Iâd even bothered to try. Who was I kidding? I wasnât cut out to graduate from college. I was already defying fate by making it this far.
Youâre a nobody. The voices of all my grade school and high school teachers echoed through me. Youâll never amount to anything, just like your trailer park trash whore of a mama.
âHey, Noel baby.â The silky, feminine voice that startled me out of my rising panic made me jerk my head up as I approached the exit.
I couldnât say I was disappointed to find a pair of football groupies closing in on me, though, hmm, I hadnât realized I shared this class with these two ladies. In fact, I wondered if they even took Modern American Literature or if they were here merely to see me. It wouldnât be the first time random girls had followed me into a class they didnât take. It kind of came with my image.
âYou look all depressed.â Tianna Moore ran her hand soothingly up my arm as she pressed against my side. âWhatâs wrong, handsome?â
Tianna was an experienced groupie, and Iâd hooked up with her a few times. Leaning into her, I welcomed all the sympathy I could get. âI didnât make the grade I was hoping to get on my paper.â
âOh, you poor thing, you.â Her fingers tickled my elbow, then my shoulder. When they landed at the base of my neck where she cupped the back of my head, she swayed closer. âWant me to kiss it all better for you?â
Exhaling a sad sigh, I shrugged. âYou could try, I guess.â
She touched her lips to mine, and I let her. I loved the warm, wet feel of anything feminine. When she opened up and pressed her tongue into my mouth, I obligingly tangled it with my own. My dick stirred with a pleasant hum, and I cupped the side of her face to continue the contact before another pair of hands grabbed me and tugged me away.
âI want to kiss it all better too, Noel.â
Not one to disappoint a lady begging to kiss me, I broke away from Tianna to glance at the second girl. I knew her face but couldnât remember her name. A vague, blurry image of her at some wild after-game celebration told me I mightâve hooked up with her too, but I couldnât be positive about this one.
Curious if I remembered her kiss, since I was kind of a connoisseur of kisses and could always recall a notable mouth, I bent toward the redhead and let her wrap her arms around my neck before she stuck her tongue in.
No fond memories rose, but she was a little more enthusiastic than Tianna had been, making me think maybe I hadnât bagged her yet, but she wanted me to, hence the reason she was so avidly giving me a rĂ©sumĂ© of her oral accomplishments.
And she would not be getting a D.
A sharp clearing of the throat shot a bolt of pure testosterone down my dick, making every nerve ending I possessed crackle like a live wire. I pulled away from hottie number two, blinking myself back to reality, curious to discover the source of that strangely rousing sound...until I glanced toward the instructorâs podium.
Dr. Kavanagh watched the three of us making out in her room with narrowed eyes and a mouth puckered in prim disapproval. The sight shouldâve shriveled up my budding arousal like a bucket of ice-cold water straight to my junk, but alarmingly, seeing her watch me suck on some other girlâs tongue only juiced me up more.
Not for the first time, I wondered how old she was. Vinegar and piss must really preserve a body, because there was no way she could be as young as she looked. I definitely wouldâve carded her if sheâd been a stranger whoâd come into the bar where I worked. Without a wrinkle in sight, her lips had that fresh, inexperienced plush look about them, making them young...and incredibly kissable.
Which was an unexpected, disturbing thought I wanted to scrub from my brain with acid and a wire brush. What freak thought about their most detested teacher that way? Still, that mouth lacked age lines that would cup an older woman. She had to be in her early twenties, even though that couldnât be possible.
âExcuse us.â I smirked as I curled my arms around both Tianna and her friend and escorted them from the lecture hall.
Kavanagh might be like every other educator in my life whoâd told me I was shit, but here, in this world, I was a king, and I needed my groupies to help remind me of that. The girls giggled and snuggled in around me, more than willing to oblige.
âWant to come to lunch with us, Noel?â Tianna asked, rubbing my back while her friend smoothed a palm over my chest. âWe have something especially tasty for you up in our room.â
Her companion snickered at the not-so-hidden double meaning. âYouâre into...sandwiches...arenât you?â
Oh, hot damn. A threesome. I was tempted. I mean, what guy wouldnât be? A couple hours between the sheets with a pair of no-strings-attached beauties would ease my nerves a lot, butâŠ
I winced. âI really shouldnât. I have another class I canât miss.â I couldnât afford to flunk one course, let alone two.
âAre you sure?â the redhead asked, her fingers trailing downward now. âWeâd make it worth your while.â
I caught her hand so she couldnât tempt me into changing my mind just as my cell phone vibrated in my jeans pocket. Offering her another apologetic cringe, I shrugged. âIâm sorry, sweetheart, but...rain check?â Please.
Her wide smile was instant. âOf course.â
âAll right, then. I look forward to it.â Grinning, I swatted her on the ass, nudging her along. Tianna hooked her arm through the redheadâs, and the two girls strolled away.
With a wistful sigh, I stole a moment to enjoy their firm backsides sheathed in tight denim as I blindly dug my phone free. I answered, unable to take my gaze from the snack Iâd just turned down.
âWhatâs up?â Even as I spoke, my eyes tracked those swaying hips. Maybe I could meet up with them later today because seriously...a threesome.
âNoel?â The girl on the other end of the line sniffed. âColtonâs sick. He wonât eat or get out of bed. I donât know what to do.â
Alarm, thick and instant, roared through me, immediately ripping my thoughts away from sex. âWhatâs wrong?â
I plugged one ear with my finger and turned my back to the sprawling campus to move away from the sidewalk. The shadow of a small tree growing by a row of perfectly trimmed hedges didnât provide the privacy I wouldâve liked, but it would have to do.
âI donât know. He has a fever of a hundred and four and says his throat hurts.â
I closed my eyes and rubbed my face. Fuck. âHave you called the doctor? Is he drinking enough fluids? Whereâs Mom?â
âI donât know.â Caroline exploded into a round of sobs. âShe hasnât been home all week. Colton begged to stay back from school yesterday, and since he hadnât missed yet this year, I thought itâd be okay. But heâs worse today andââ
âOkay, okay.â Out of habit, I lifted my hand to stop her, even though I knew she couldnât see me. âItâs going to be fine. Just calm down. He probably has strep throat or something like that. See if you can get him to take some Tylenol and water. Get that fever down. Iâll contact the doctorâs office and find out if they can see him today. Iâll call you back in a few.â
I hung up on my sister before she could pile any more shit on me. Caroline had been forced to shoulder a lot of responsibility after Iâd left home, but I was doing the whole college bit and gunning for a pick in the NFL draft for them, so I could take care of her and our two younger brothers.
Because our mother sure as hell didnât give a shit.
Relieved I had saved the number of Coltonâs pediatrician in my phone after last year when heâd gotten chicken pox, I dialed the receptionist and was grateful they could fit him in for a late afternoon checkup.
When I called my sister back, she sounded calmer. âThanks, Noel. Iâm sorry I freaked on you. I justââ
âHey, no apologies. I know what itâs like, remember? And thatâs what Iâm here for. Just let me know what the doctor says. Oh, and wait, do you have any money for the appointment or medicine theyâll prescribe?â
She sighed. âYeah. I have...a little tucked away.â
I winced. From her reluctant tone, I knew sheâd have to take from her private stash sheâd probably been hiding from Mom. That was what Iâd always had to do.
âWhat were you saving for?â
âNothing,â she mumbled.
âCaroline.â The warning in my voice made her sigh again.
âI justâŠthereâs a sweetheart dance coming up at school. And Sander Scotini asked me to go. I was hoping I could afford a new dressââ
âWait, wait, wait.â I shook my hand to stop her. âHold up. Sander who? Do I know this kid? Why have I never heard of him before? Is he your boyfriend or just a date for this dance?â
âNoel.â I could practically hear her rolling her eyes, but I didnât care. It pissed me off that this was the first I was hearing of her and some guy. I didnât like the idea of any horny dick sniffing around my pure, innocent little sister.
âAnd did you say Scotini? As in Terrance Scotini, the tire king?â A visual of the commercials Iâd watched on TV when I was growing up flashed through my head. Terrance Scotini liked to stroll through his store, wearing a dorky cape and crown, telling his audience to shop at his place for all their automotive needs.
âHis son,â Caroline quietly admitted.
The hairs on the back of my neck spiked with concern. I knew my sister was nearly eighteen and almost legally an adult, but she was still my little sister. Always would be. I didnât want some rich prickâs son thinking she handed things out for free just because she was Daisy Gambleâs daughter.
âIs heâ?â
âHeâs nice,â she stressed. âAnd he likes me for me, okay? I know what youâre thinking.â
âWhat? That no piece of slimeball shitbag will ever be good enough for my little sister?â
She laughed. âYeah. Something like that.â
âWhat about his parents?â I pressed, still not liking the idea in the least. âAre they okay with all this?â Because if they treated her with anything less than absolute respect, Iâd snap. Iâd just...snap.
After a quiet pause, Caroline admitted, âI donât think they know.â
I groaned. âCarââ Her situation already had trouble written all over it.
âDonât,â she pleaded. âPlease. Itâs just one dance. Heâs nice, and fun, and I know weâd have a good time together. Thatâs all.â
That wasnât even close to being all. I hadnât been born yesterday. I knew if some punk, high school douche was defying his parents to take the poor, trailer park girl to a dance, there had to be a hell of a lot more going on. I was ready to borrow my roommateâs truck and drive the eleven and a half hours back home so I could kick some rich Scotini ass.
But I didnât want a miserable sister. I wanted her to have as much fun in her worn-down, hopeless life as possible. Forbidding her from attending a dance wouldnât put a smile on her face. Besides, sheâd probably go anyway, and since I was seven hundred miles away, I couldnât exactly stop her.
Rubbing one side of my aching temples, I forced myself to cool it. It was better to play friend than asshole big brother; that way, sheâd come to me if she did get herself into trouble. âOkay. All right. But youâll let me know if anything happens, right?â Damn, I was such a pushover.
âOf course.â I could tell she was smiling, which helped loosen the knot in my chest.
I nodded and turned back toward the campus, not ready to face the obstacles in my own life but determined to do so anyway. âLet me know how much you have to spend today, too. Iâll make sure youâre reimbursed before the dance. All right?â
âOkay. Thank you. Youâre the best big brother ever, Noel.â
Chuckling, I moved toward the sidewalk. âAnd donât forget it. Take care of Colton for me.â
I smiled as I hung up, even though a heavy ache pierced my chest. Talking to one of my siblings always made me miss home.
Okay, I didnât exactly miss the hole-in-the-floor single-wide trailer where I used to sleep each night, always worried what kind of trouble my mother might bring homeâif she even bothered to come homeâbut I sure as hell did miss the three underage kids still stuck there. My smile faltered.
Shoving down the gnawing guilt and not-for-the-first-time feeling that Iâd abandoned them, I realized Iâd forgotten to ask about Brandt. In her previous what-do-I-do phone call, Caroline had been freaked about a couple ruffians whoâd been hanging around the thirteen-year-old. The last thing we needed was for our middle brother to get caught up in drugs or a gang. Or both. Jesus. That would be my luck.
âHey, Gamble. Wait up.â
At the call, I cringed, wondering what catastrophe was going to strike now. My bad-shit karma usually came in threes, and since I needed something else to even up the score, I braced myself for the last item to get in line with my D essay and worrisome siblings.
When I turned, however, I only found Quinn Hamilton, a freshman tight end, jogging to catch up. I relaxed. âHey, man. Whatâs up?â
âI was wondering if you were going to the training session tonight or in the morning.â
During off-season, the football team had mandatory sessions to train in the weight room. Since I worked every evening I was available, I usually opted for the early morning workouts before class. It only afforded me three or four hours of sleep on the nights I worked, but to keep my athletic scholarship, sleep was overrated. I had three very special people relying on me to keep it together.
âIâm a morning bird, didnât you know?â I playfully shoulder-checked the freshman as I lied. Iâd never been a morning bird. I hated mornings. Iâd sleep in every day if I could.
âCool. Thatâs what Iâm doing too.â Quinn scratched the back of his neck and glanced away, letting me know he had something more important to ask. âAnd I was hoping you couldâif you wanted toâum, show me a couple throwing techniques.â
I lifted my eyebrows. Shit. Was this bad karma number three? âWhat? You looking to steal my position?â
Though a small fissure of dread and panic caught me unaware, I grinned and threw my arm around Quinnâs shoulder to let him know I was teasing, though honestly, I didnât want competition. I already had a second and third-string QB foaming at the mouth for my spot. What was worse, Hamilton had fucking talent, and I could see him making a better quarterback than the spot he held now. He had never quite fit as a tight end.
As long as he wasnât better than me, I could handle this.
Quinn blushed and ducked his head. âI played quarterback in high school,â he admitted.
âHey, thatâs cool.â I squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. âYou need to do whatâs best for you. Who knows? If Dr. Kavanagh has anything to say about it, Iâm well on my way to being academically dismissed. Weâd definitely need another QB then.â
The freshman blinked until he realized I was jokingâor, at least, half joking. Then he grinned. âYou have a class with Kavanagh, too? Man, sheâs harsh.â
âYeah,â I agreed wholeheartedly, âa total, raging bitch.â Not that I actually considered her a bitch per se. She was just tough and stuck by her guns in a classroom, which I kind of respected. But it was so much easier to blame her for my sucky grades than admit I just wasnât smart enough. So, yeah. Letâs call her a bitch.
From nearby, someone let out a shocked, sputtering cough.
Fuck. For some reason, I knew I wouldnât need three guesses to figure out whoâd just heard me. Enter karma number three. Already fearing what I would discover, I glanced around to focus on Kavanagh herself walking along the path directly behind us.
I could actually see my D dwindle to an F even as her green-eyed glare latched onto me.
Well, shit. Whatever happened next, I refused to let her see how crappy I felt for letting her overhear what Iâd just said.
