Stripped by the Professor_The Office Hours Series Page 3

  “Is the next stop the closest to the financial aid office?” a girl asked, leaning in toward me.

  “I sure hope so.” I smiled. “That’s where I’m headed.”

  “Oh good. I thought you might be a student too.” She grinned, motioning toward my backpack.

  “I guess we’re obvious on here,” I replied. “This is your first time here too?”

  “Yup, I need to apply for a tuition deferment until my loans and funding gets here.”

  “I know the feeling,” I said. “I’m Britt.”

  “Sonja,” she said. “You wanna walk together?”

  “Sure!”

  And just like that, I made my first friend at school. That had been one of my biggest worries. Being raised in a religious family and homeschooled meant I hadn’t had a chance for much socializing. I was the oldest girl so I’d also been tasked with caring for my multiple younger siblings.

  I still wasn’t entirely sure how my parents felt about me leaving home and moving to the city. I barely spoke to them, but I still called a couple times a week to chat with my sisters and brothers. I missed them, but this freedom coursing through my veins as I crossed the campus with my new friend was more than enough reward for my new life’s adventure.

  Even though I thought I was there bright and early, there were already tons of people ahead of us. I stood in line behind Sonja, and we made small talk waiting for our turns to see the financial aid officers. We got to know each other, and I felt pretty confident that she and I would end up great friends.

  Finally, she was called into an office, and I waited alone for a few minutes before I was called. The conversation went well enough, and the officer made some suggestions on handling the rest of my tuition.

  The thing was I didn’t know how to tell her I was taking clothes off to pay everything, so I went along with what she told me.

  “I understand you have your deposit and this amount applies to the remaining balance, but we will need total payment within thirty days. One way you can get help with this is to apply for bursaries, and I would like to suggest a work-study program to help you qualify for these.”

  “Work-study?” I asked.

  “You’ll be hired by an academic department and paid fifteen dollars an hour to do what they assign you in between classes. It works out well for you because it’s extra money in your pocket, but it also shows the right people you are trying your best to work hard and make it on your own. You’ll most likely get money from some of these bursary programs because of it.”

  “Sure, sounds interesting,” I said, “Where do I find the departments who are hiring?”

  “I’ll help you with that.” She smiled and turned to her computer. “Looks like this is filling up fast. The last two placements would be well outside of your area of interest—psychology or languages.”

  “Languages might be interesting. I wanted to take Latin at some point anyway.” I was potentially focusing on biology. I’d been thinking about going into medical school, and learning Latin would help me with some of the complicated anatomical names I would come across.

  She signed me up, gave me a paper with the contact information, and sent me on my way.

  I bumped into Sonja on the way out, and we made plans for lunch. She was off to her own work-study assignment in the psychology department, and I still had to get rid of my bundle of cash and pay my down my tuition.

  Luckily, the line to pay wasn’t as long, and I was soon on my way through the campus looking for the languages department. I did my best not to seem like some slack-jawed yokel, but I was overwhelmed with the vast spread of my new college. Coming from my humble background, it was more than a little impressive.

  I managed to make it to the right office, where I found a harried-looking department manager, looking like the last thing she needed was a brand-new, first-year student bothering her about a job.

  But I was there so I thought the heck with it, took a deep breath, and cleared my throat.

  She stopped, looked up from where she sorted papers, and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “Oh! You! Are you the student work hire? Perfect. I need you right now, if that’s okay.”

  “I’ve got a couple of hours,” I said, glancing at the clock on the wall. I wasn’t set to meet Sonja until lunch and didn’t have to figure out my final class schedule until that afternoon.

  “Good. I need you to organize these files in alphabetical order to begin, and then we’ll get you clearing up the back room.” She stopped abruptly to look at me. “My name is Trish, by the way.”

  “Britt,” I said and started my new job.

  About halfway through the stack of files, I suddenly felt as if I wasn’t alone. Trish had gone for coffee, but I could feel the weight of somebody’s gaze on me. I slowed my pace and listened carefully in case somebody was trying to get my attention, but there was silence behind me.

  I casually turned around like I was looking for another file, just in case somebody really was watching me, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. I couldn’t be certain, but it seemed to belong to a broad-shouldered, tall man with dark hair.

  He reminded me of Mr. Sexy from the Silver Dollar Club. Lock, his name had been Lock.

  My breath caught in my throat, and I jumped up, craned my neck, and tried to get a better look at the receding figure but had no luck. He was gone.

  I wracked my brain, trying to remember what his friend had said he’d been celebrating. A promotion of some kind— was he a student or a professor here?

  I laughed at myself and shook my head before going back to my work. I was being ridiculous. Of course there was no way Lock worked at the college, and I had to face it: I would probably never see him again.

  But something tugged at my center, and I felt a strange longing to see those sparkling green eyes of his watching me. I wanted to see him again, and with a desire that frightened me…and excited me at the same time.

  Lock

  The first day of college went along as usual—wide-eyed new students and dead-eyed grad students stumbled up and down the halls, and the eager ones sat at the front of the class, their eyes locked on me as they hung on my every word.

  My first lecture of the day was as boring as predicted, and sadly only half my mind was there.

  I’d heard about Mark getting raked over the coals so I always ignored the hottest, most eager students with ease, but I still couldn’t stop obsessing about my candy girl from the club. I practically sleepwalked through my second lecture of the day and headed to the department’s main office to pick up my mail and see if Trish had any paperwork for me.

  Imagine my surprise when I turned the corner and found the object of my desire bent over, intently reading a stack of papers and sorting them into different folders.

  Jesus, my cock responded long before my brain caught up, and I stood there like an idiot, staring at her as she worked.

  Where the hell was Trish, and what was a stripper doing at my place of work? And more importantly, why was she acting like she belonged there?

  I drew in a ragged breath, adjusted myself uncomfortably, and strode off to my office to assess the situation.

  What the hell was going on?

  I sat behind my wide, wooden desk and put my feet up, unable to concentrate on much beyond Candy being in my space.

  She was so close I could walk over there, throw her over Trish’s desk, and fuck her hard enough the only thing she would remember was my name. I could have her writhing on the end of my shaft. I could crawl up between her silky thighs and devour her sweet cunt until she coated my face with her juices.

  If she was on campus, she was even more off limits than she had been as a simple stripper.

  She was young, beautiful, and obviously not a colleague of mine. Therefore I had to keep her at arm’s length or end up becoming the next Mark.

  Humiliated and jobless, all for the sake of a woman.

  She was so close but even farther away than before.
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  As much as I wanted Candy, I had to force her presence from my mind and pretend she didn’t exist.

  She couldn’t exist.

  I closed my eyes and tried to forget about her, but my raging hard-on wouldn’t let me. I locked my door and sat back down. I let Candy flit through my mind, and I unzipped my pants, pulled my cock loose, and stroked with her image burned in my brain.

  Fuck, she was perfection.

  I tightened my grip and stroked faster, imagining her lips wrapped around my flesh, sucking, licking, and drinking me in as I spurted my hot load down the back of her throat.

  My balls tightened at the thought of her body, marking her as mine, claiming her as my woman. I jerked faster as the pressure built up and shuddered and groaned as I bucked my hips once and released my cum in a twitching spurt.

  “Fuck, Candy,” I moaned softly and leaned back with my eyes closed, her scent and presence consuming me.

  It was almost office hours, so I cleaned up, straightened myself out, and determined to make this work.

  To have my candy girl, to fuck her senseless, and to keep it separate from my work.

  I wasn’t going to be stupid like Mark. I could make this work.

  All I needed was to have Candy, get her out of my system, and walk away.

  I just had to walk away.

  Britt

  I was a little smug at how quickly I settled into college life.

  I had a full schedule of classes, mostly sciences but also the requisite English and math courses the college demanded I take for my degree. Work for the languages department went well enough. Trish let me pick when I worked, and I quickly had her entire office organized. One of the great things I’d picked up from being homeschooled and helping Mom with the younger kids—organization.

  My second weekend dancing at the Silver Dollar Club went as well as could be expected. No Lock, but the stack of money I had in my night table grew with each passing night.

  By the following Monday, I paid off another huge chunk of my tuition and felt pretty good about life in general.

  College, work, dancing—it was all coming together seamlessly.

  Wednesday, I wandered into Trish’s office and wasn’t surprised to find her behind her desk with her feet up, a relaxed look on her face.

  “There she is, the miracle worker.” She beamed at me. “I can’t believe you made this place so clean in such a short time.”

  “It’s what I do.” I smiled. “Did I just work myself out of a job though?”

  “I doubt you could do that. This is just ground zero for the disorganization of our department. But you have been requested to help a professor who is very impressed with this space now, so you’ll be assisting Dr. Craig with the biggest stack of disorganized papers on campus. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” I replied, looking forward to a bit of a change. I liked working in the front office, but it was awkward being on display and being unable to answer any questions when people stopped by. Being alone in an office might be a more relaxing environment.

  She handed me a piece of paper with the office number on it and asked that I have it signed to confirm my hours worked, and I sauntered off in search of Dr. Craig.

  I found the office easily enough. It was on the second floor above the lecture halls and tucked away a distance from the rest of the department’s spaces. I tapped lightly on the door and waited.

  A deep voice came from within, a voice that struck a chord somewhere inside the pit of my stomach and made it flutter.

  “Come in.”

  I turned the knob, that sense of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown battling in the depths of my core, and somehow even before I saw his deep green gorgeous eyes, I knew.

  Lock’s last name was Craig.

  “Hello,” I squeaked when it was confirmed. Mr. Sexy from the Silver Dollar Club sat in a chair behind a desk, his eyes locked on me. When he didn’t respond, I managed to add, “Trish sent me.”

  He narrowed his eyes and scanned my face questioningly. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  God, that voice. It rolled over me and turned my insides to liquid heat.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I’ve been working with Trish for the last week or so. You probably just saw me there.”

  So he didn’t recognize me from the Silver Dollar Club. Thank god. I didn’t know if I could handle the humiliation of being caught as a stripper in front of such a brilliant and perfect man.

  “That must be it,” he said and frowned, not convinced.

  I didn’t know if he would figure out where he’d seen me, but for now I could play along and hope he didn’t pinpoint me as the half-naked dancer his buddy Troy had thrown money at just a short time ago.

  “Trish said you needed help with something. You asked for me specifically?” I prodded, hoping to get him distracted enough that he stopped thinking about where he’d met me.

  “Ah, yes,” he mumbled. “Yes, this disaster. I need help sorting things out. I seem to have run out of time to get on top of it.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and looked around at the haphazardly stacked piles of papers on every surface of the office.

  “I can help you with this,” I replied with a smile and a wicked little thought of him on top of… Let’s not go there. I was trying to maintain my cool. “When would you like me to start?”

  “Right away, if that works for you.” He leaned back in his chair and cracking open a book. “Don’t mind me. I have a lecture to prepare.”

  He wanted me to work with him in the small office, and I didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t think I could handle it.

  The electricity between us was almost as thick as the tension in my limbs. His scent seemed to fill the space and invade my senses, a masculine musk that embodied his physical power and drove me wild.

  I was somehow able to fumble my way through doing some of the work, but just as I was finally making some headway into the massive pile of student papers, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and my arms prickled. I turned slowly to find Lock watching me with a hungry, predatory look on his face.

  He made a small noise in the back of his throat, almost like a growl, and I shivered as the walls suddenly closed in and I felt as if I was already on top of him.

  “I can’t do this,” he said, his voice strained. He stood slowly.

  “Do what?” I looked up at him, a looming presence across the desk from me. He was magnificent, his broad shoulders straining at the fabric of his white cotton dress shirt, his powerful chest rippling and leaving me almost breathless.

  “I know you.” He furrowed his brow. “I knew you were the dancer the moment I saw you in Trish’s office. I asked for you deliberately, and I can’t keep it from you any longer.”

  “You mean you knew when you asked me if we’d met?” I asked, mortified that I’d been caught in a lie. I felt shame creep up my cheeks and flame them bright red.

  He chuckled and looked down at me with an amused glint in his eyes. “I apologize for the subterfuge, but the moment you got here I couldn’t exactly ask you for another lap dance.”

  “And I couldn’t exactly tell you I was a stripper.” The heat from my shame faded as I looked down, still bashful in front of such a stunning man. I glanced up at him from under my thick lashes and was surprised to see naked desire present in his eyes. “I mean, if you didn’t already know.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that night ever since.” He came around the desk and stopped inches from me, forcing me to crane my neck to stare up at him. “I couldn’t get you out of my mind, the way you move, the way you smile, the way you…your body…”

  His voice trailed off, and I gulped.

  “You did see a lot of it,” I replied, my mouth dry and my throat tight. The heat rolled off him, and every cell in my body craved his touch.

  “I take it your name isn’t Candy?” He lifted the back of his hand to brush my jawline, sending flutters
up and down my body. “You are sweet though, sweet enough to devour.”

  “It’s Britt,” I said. “And you’re Lock?”

  “Lachlan Craig, but people call me Lock.”

  “Okay. Lock.”

  “You are stunning, Britt. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “Nobody that mattered,” I said.

  “What are you doing on campus? Is this your day job?”

  “I’m a student. This is a student work program,” I replied, almost desperate for his lips to touch mine.

  His entire body tensed up, and he frowned again, a brooding look that hooded his eyes with dark contemplation. “A student?”

  “I am.” I clued in—he was worried that he was crossing a line professionally if he made a move on me. “I’m majoring in sciences though. I’m not your student.”

  “But you’re a student.” He groaned and put his hands on my shoulders, holding me away from him as if he was in pain and my touch would make it worse. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

  With that, before I had a chance to explain or protest, he stepped past me, opened the door, and was gone, leaving me with desire tightly coiled in my belly and a passionate heat in my limbs.

  Lock

  I could have had her, god dammit. She was mine, but I couldn’t bring myself to cross that line.

  It was at times like this I admired Troy and his complete lack of ethics. He would have banged Candy—Britt—before she got her full name out of her mouth. He would have slammed into her and thought nothing of it. If only I could channel my inner Troy, I wouldn’t have stalked off like a little bitch the first moment I had her alone in my office.

  Britt.

  Fuck, even her name was perfection. What the hell was it about that girl? Why couldn’t I seem to shake her hold on me?

  I stormed down the hall toward the library, prepared to hide myself in the private collection for a few hours. I needed to push her out of my body, cleanse her from my mind.