Teacher's pet

Compliance is comfort

"The most important reason is because what I say goes." -Joe Jonas

I had never heard so many curses come out of a professor's mouth before. They were flying through the air like rogue fireworks aimed to explode at my head. I felt awful. Professor Jonas looked at me again with anger in his eyes as he ripped his shirt open, keeping the coffee from his skin. It was scalding hot. He grabbed a load of napkins off the counter and wiped at his chest. I felt ashamed because all I could do was stare, as my mouth began to water.
His skin began to turn bright red. I should've been concerned, but for one brief moment, all I could see were his abs coming out to make my acquaintance. They were perfectly well defined. So much so that I could finally understand how six square packs of muscle could turn any woman's body into mush.
"Look at this mess!" Joe shook out his hands with coffee dripping from his fingers and his palms.
"I'm so, so, sorry, Professor Jonas. I turned around and you appeared out of nowhere. I didn't mean to—"
He held up his hand to stop me from talking. His head was facing in my direction, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking through me. It was unnerving. "Please don't be upset. It was an accident," I continued, but he turned and walked away, uninterested in anything I had to say.
Professor Jonas not only didn't respond to my apology, he didn't look back in my direction at all. He walked right out the door at a furious pace, not caring if anyone got in his way. Selena walked next to me and wrapped her arm around my shoulders.
"Now, that was hot," she said sarcastically. "Good job, assistant. I guess part of your responsibilities from now on will be paying for his laundry."
I shot daggers at her. "That's not funny."
"I know it isn't, but I feel for you. I'll help you look for a new job if you want me to, because I don't think you'll be keeping this one for long."
Now that Professor Jonas had left the premises, I realized that my chest felt wet. I looked down and saw the mess that I made of my shirt; coffee was splattered all over it like some kid had used finger paints on it. Coffee doesn't go well with fine white cotton. I sighed in exasperation. I hadn't even made it into the classroom with him yet and things had already gone south. If it were the fifties, I'd be Lucy Ricardo for sure, about to let out that irritating whine with my face turned down like a depressed basset hound.
"How much time do I have before class?" I said to Selena.
She looked at her watch. "I'd say you have less than five minutes."
"Shit! I gotta go." I grabbed my stuff and I took off, heading toward the door, nearly slipping on a spilled spot of coffee. "I'm sorry," I told the cashier while holding the counter for balance. "Selena, can you pay for me, please? I'll give you the money back, I promise."
Selena nodded, and shooed me away. "I got it. Go, go."
I ran down the hall in my high-heeled boots. Right then, I couldn't understand why women wore the things. My calves were burning, my toes were scrunched up and I looked like I was running on a bed of hot coals. Once I made it to my room, I unbuttoned my top, pulled out my drawer and dug around with my hands. I came up empty. "Crap!"
I had nothing else to wear that matched what I had on. My ensemble was the top-of-the-line, high-end wear for Demi, and I didn't have anything else that was like it. I had less than a minute to go to change my entire outfit, make it down the hall and get to class on time. That wasn't going to happen. I strode to the other side of the room and pulled a swanky white top from Sonja's middle drawer. I slipped it over my head, and although it was a little baggy, I went with it anyway. I really I had no choice unless I wanted to walk around with coffee stains, reminding Professor Jonas of what I'd done.
I ran back down the hall and finally made it to class. I was out of breath by then. So I stood by the door to catch my breath and prepare myself for what was about to happen. Professor Jonas was either going to chew me out in front of the entire class, making an example of me, or he would kill me in the privacy of his office. The execution would be quick and clean. Or at least I hoped it would be. There were so many ways he could handle this situation, but none of them would fall in my favour.
"Are you going to open the door or keep me standing here out in the hall? I do have a class to lecture, you know."
I looked over my shoulder. Professor Jonas was behind me with an attaché case in his hand and a blue short-sleeved unbuttoned shirt hugging magnificently to his chest. My heart rate soared. As soon as I saw him, my breathing became erratic—more so than when I was running—and I inhaled and then exhaled with rapid, shallow bursts, hoping it would slow down my heart rate. My fingers curled around the door handle and stayed there.
"Okay, it looks like I'm going to have to open the door myself, once again totally negating the need for an assistant."
He reached around my right shoulder for the door. His body was so close to mine, I could feel his heat on my neck. His cologne smelled of musk and aromatic spices. I inhaled it as deeply as I could before I released the door. "Did you just smell me?" His eyes narrowed.
"Me?" My face warmed. "No, of course not. What are you talking about?"
"You just sniffed my neck, didn't you?" His dimples sank in his cheeks like machine slots made for quarters, and without him having to smile. I wasn't sure if he was still upset with me or amused by my blatant stupidity.
"We're late, professor," I said. "I think we should go in."
He glanced at his watch. "Ah, you're right." He sighed. "I can't be late on my first day."
Professor Jonas opened the door, and we both walked through. Once he made it to his podium, he turned and addressed the class.
"For those of you who don't know, Professor Cyrus had to begin her maternity leave early, so I'm stepping in as her replacement. My name is Mr. Jonas. You can call me that, Professor Jonas or just professor, whatever suits you. I first need to apologize for my tardiness, as I had a little accident in the dining hall this morning thanks to my assistant over here, whom I'm sure you all know. However, with that being said, what you don't know is today was a scheduled day for a pop quiz, and since I am late due to unforeseen circumstances, I can only give you fifty-minutes to complete it."
My jaw dropped to my chest. What the fuck?
"Ms. Lovato, if you can pass around these tests to all the students, we'll begin as soon as you're done. Thank you." He grinned.
I couldn't believe he threw me under the bus like that. As I passed around the tests one row at a time, every student I handed them to grumbled under their breath, shot me a dirty look or didn't bother to look at me at all. It was a terrible feeling, being ignored like that. But mostly, what I really felt was fury. Professor Cyrus wouldn't have dared to call me out like that. The students were going to be ruthless if this affected their grades at all.
Once the class had finally emptied out, I got busy packing my stuff, thinking about my next class and the effort it would take to get there. I was halfway up the stairs and almost out the door when Professor Jonas called me to return.
"Demi, can I talk to you for a second before you go?"
I debated it. I really did, but at the end of the day, I couldn't outright ignore him. He was my boss right now, and my much-needed paycheck depended upon my obedience to this extremely handsome tyrant. "Yes, Professor Jonas, of course." I walked back down the steps. "Is something wrong?"
He sat down on the table that I used as a desk and folded his arms across his chest. "So, what do you think we should do with you?"
"I don't follow. What do you mean?"
"Well, according to Professor Cyrus, you have a free period after class. It's part of the reason she accepted you as TA, so you would have extra time to help her out. But to my surprise, you were leaving my class without grading the tests from today. I'm not sure what to make of that."
I didn't know what to say. My words were stuck, my throat went dry and I tried to swallow hard. I needed to get it together, although I was becoming more convinced the guy actually hated me. I mean real dislike, not the feelings I played with earlier. He was clearly punishing me, as it were.
"I'll get right on it," I hissed between my teeth. I wanted to leave so badly that I was almost ready to reason that no money was worth it.
It took me a full hour to finish grading the tests. It was my job; I realized that. He was totally right in that respect, but his approach left something to be desired. He watched over me the whole time, like a vulture circling over prey, waiting for it to finally die. I couldn't tell if he was monitoring me to make sure I didn't make any errors or if he simply got satisfaction from making me squirm. His perseverance annoyed me, as he held a pen in his hand with a grin on his face that I just wanted to rip off. I wasn't used to being micromanaged, and I didn't need a supervisor breathing down my neck while I tried to get the job done. I sighed in irritation as I came to the final test paper and marked through it.
At last I dropped the thick pile of tests onto his lap. "Anything else?" I surreptitiously glanced at the door, the means of my salvation.
The professor's posture went rigid, and I saw him clench and unclench his fists in frustration before he spoke to me with venom in his words. "Take these tests off my lap, Ms. Lovato, and put them on the desk where they belong. I was generous enough to keep you as my TA, and this is how you perform? I believe I deserve a lot more respect than what I've been shown so far. Don't you?"
I couldn't agree less, but I had to do what he asked or lose my job for a second time. I reached for the tests, but before I picked them up, I realized I would have to dig my fingers dangerously close to his crotch. Was that the point? My eyes flew to his face, and his mouth was curled in a challenging grin. I wasn't averse to picking up the test papers; we both knew I wasn't trying to grab his unmentionables. But, was he trying to bait me into doing something that appeared inappropriate so he could fire me? I had to choose my next move carefully because he obviously wasn't giving me any credit for being smart.
"Um, why can't you pick them up yourself? They're right there in your lap." I waved casually at the papers like it shouldn't be a big deal for him to put them on the desk himself, and he chuckled like I had suggested a king muck the stables.
"Because I'd rather you do it. And, the most important reason is because what I say goes. You'd do well to remember that."
I stood there, not moving, staring at the large stack of papers atop his muscular thighs. His legs were slightly gapped and oddly inviting. Briefly I wondered if I had misread the wily professor. Or, maybe he had read me all too well. I licked my suddenly dry lips, fighting my unwanted sexual attraction to this infuriating man. I wanted to touch him...to accidentally brush his crotch with my hand...to lean my full breasts a little too closely to his face. I sucked in a breath as I tried to steady myself and realised he was still watching me closely like he saw right through me.
"Well?" he prodded. "The papers aren't going to move themselves." He slid down in his seat, relaxing his posture and moved his legs apart just enough to stop the tests from falling to the floor. "You have a job to do, Ms. Lovato, and I'm not the most patient man in the world."
I had a strange, mixed feeling of repulsion and attraction for him at that moment, bossing me around like he did. I really needed to get a life. Had I gotten so bored and lonely that weird and offensive things turned me on? Looking down at him was sending tingles across my skin like a brisk winter breeze. I prayed that I wouldn't get any visible goose bumps. He didn't deserve the satisfaction. "Fine," I conceded. My legs trembled. I forced myself to move closer, and I hated myself for the way my body responded to the proximity. I bit my bottom lip to tamp down my urges.
"By the way, you can call me Joe when we're in private." His eyes bored into my soul and a half smile tugged at his sensual mouth, making my legs weaken. "When you answer me from now on, I want you to call me by my first name. Otherwise, show me the respect I deserve, Ms. Lovato."
I swallowed the lump that was lodged in my throat. Sweat started to form on my forehead. His voice had dropped an octave to a sexy baritone that seemed to echo through my pelvis. I didn't know if it was him or me, but his commands were beginning to sound more like dirty bedroom talk than orders from my boss. "Yes, Joe," I said, although it felt odd on my tongue. But, it also felt right in a way I couldn't have explained to myself or anyone else. I reached for the tests again. I dug the tips my fingers deep down in his lap. As soon as I had the tests in my grasp, Joe grabbed me by the wrists with both hands.
"Do you know how beautiful you are, Ms. Lovato?" He eased my wrists apart until I dropped the tests on the floor. Then, he brought me close to him, so there I stood between his legs. Joe spun me around and sat me down upon his lap. He was behind me now. I felt the eagerness of his bulge pressing up against my ass, and my breaths came in pants as I fought the urge to squirm against his hardness. The tension in the air was thick enough to slice.
"Do you feel that?" he whispered in my ear. The warmth of his breath softly tickled the side of my neck. He adjusted me on his lap, and I moistened in my panties. It hadn't been just me. He could feel it, too. There was fire between us.
"Professor, I don't think this is appropri—"
"It's a yes or no question, and what did I ask you to call me?"
"Joe. Yes, Joe, I feel it." I couldn't resist sliding myself along his thigh. "I feel it." A pulse of pleasure moistened me some more. "I feel you."
Joe reached around me from behind and touched his finger to my lips. He slipped it in, slowly penetrating my mouth. He snaked his hand between the cleft of my knees and, at the same time, his lips caressed the back of my neck. I tried to convince myself that what I was feeling wasn't pleasure, but my head lolled back on his shoulder, betraying me. My stupid body was working against me. I really shouldn't have been so hot for that asshole.
"I only want to hear the answers to my questions," he said. "I don't need anything more than simplicity."
Joe advanced his hand up toward the apex of my inner thighs and closer to my center than I could take. It pulsed and ached as he got nearer to my folds. Without further thought, I pushed my pelvis forward. A moan escaped my mouth.
He said, "I'm trying not to want you, but ever since I first laid eyes on you, I've wanted to—" Joe slipped his hand down my pants and past my panties. The edge of his fingers parted my folds and brushed lightly against my bud. A wave of electricity traveled through my body and tickled the pleasure centers in my brain.
Before I knew it, the classroom door opened and someone seeking the professor peeped around the door. I hopped off Joe's lap and briskly walked across the room as fast as I could while still remaining breathless and dizzy. I straightened my clothes and tried to get my wits about me. I didn't know how long I could've gone with what we were doing without begging him to take me right there on the table.
I'd never had those feelings before: the burning desire and lust and the urgency for consummation. I had never been that kind of girl. It was an overwhelming sensation. My flesh fevered so much I felt the heat would never come down. I didn't know what to do with myself. I scooped up my stuff off my desk, hiked up the steps with my eyes on the door and left without taking another look back.
I quickened my pace until I ran down the hall, my heart beating in triples. The first corner that I came to, I stopped and dropped my bag. My breathing was heavy and labored. Everything was spinning in circles. I was in a crowded hallway leaning up against a wall, feeling lost with no one to talk to about what had happened. I slid down on my butt, put my head in my hands and was confused as to why I started to smile.