Welcome to my latest short story – Bad Girls go to Heaven. It’s just 77p (or 99c!) from Amazon. All newsletter subscribers will receive it free! Enjoy x
In her final year at Cambridge University, Annabel Jenkins has a huge crush on her extremely sexy lecturer, Professor Luke Huntington. Fortunately for her, he feels the same way. Unfortunately for both of them, student-staff relationships are strictly forbidden…
Will they be able to hold off for the last few weeks, until Annabel graduates and all hell can break loose?
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Here is an excerpt of the first chapter:
Three weeks of my university degree remain. That means only four more times I’ll be taught by Luke Huntington…and then what? I never see him again? That scenario simply doesn’t bear thinking about. He’s walking casually between computer terminals, occasionally stopping to assist my fellow students en route and I literally can’t drag my eyes away from the man. He’s the complete opposite of what I’d always expected a university lecturer to be. Mid-thirties, he radiates an imposing presence with his tall frame, short dark hair and designer stubble. His clothing makes a valiant effort to conceal what is plain for all to see; the guy has an incredible body. As he bends over slightly, two rows in front of me, to peer closely at a screen, his jeans tighten over his ass and a small groan escapes my lips. He is utter perfection.
I really ought to be focussing on the set task, but his continued presence makes concentration difficult. In my final year studying Criminal Justice at Cambridge, I’ve sailed through the degree course so far, keenly soaking up knowledge of the one subject area which has always held my fascination. Luke’s course is the only one I haven’t excelled in and I know why. Too much goddam distraction. Over the months, my unspoken obsession for this man has grown, to the point that it’s getting harder and harder not to reach out and touch him, whenever he passes by. Even the way he walks is sexy…how fair is that?
I’m lost in my own dream world when Luke stands upright once more. My eyes run appreciatively over his taut body, mouth salivating slightly whilst I dare to imagine. As he turns, I can see a slight bulge in the front of his jeans and my internal muscles unexpectedly clench, heat flooding to my core. God! If only! Chewing slightly on my inside lip to stifle the grin which is threatening, my eyes travel upwards. My focus hovers momentarily on his plump lips. Lips I regularly fantasise about feeling slide over my body, allowing him to indulge as he sees fit. And then up to those incredible blue eyes, so often dancing with mischief, which are currently looking…directly… at… me. Oh shit!
Immediately, I tear my gaze from his and focus frantically on the screen, silently praying that one of my classmates will require his attention. But it’s too late. I can sense him approaching. My hands start to tremble lightly, face flushing with a combination of embarrassment and arousal.
‘How are you getting on, Annabel?’ His voice lifts the hairs on the back of my neck. Deep and commanding, the way his tongue wraps around my name makes it sound like nothing on this earth.
‘F-fine,’ I stutter. I can’t help it. In my mind, I’m all bravado and confidence. In real life, I’m simply infatuated with a guy I wouldn’t have the first clue what to do with.
Squatting behind me, he leans in. I close my eyes; an instinctive, reflex reaction I have no control over. My lungs fill with air and I can smell him. I can taste him. An expensive, subtle aftershave, combined with his own warm, masculine scent, which sends my senses into overdrive. I cease all movement, feeling his breath ghost adjacent to my right ear. Goosebumps rapidly follow the trail down my neck, to terminate much lower still. Leaning forwards, he points a long finger towards the screen.
‘Explain to me why you’ve used that operator.’
I exhale at length, temporarily unable to even remember what an operator is, yet alone why I might have used it. His casual cotton shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbow, displaying formidable, hairy forearms. I think I catch sight of a tattoo, just at the base of his bicep; physical evidence, if any were required, of a definitive bad boy. And he was. Luke hadn’t been afraid to share his past, when he’d introduced himself at our very first lecture. A troubled child, by sixteen he was on Interpol’s most wanted list, for having hacked a global technology giant and stolen some of their software. On the run for several months, he was eventually arrested and placed into a young offenders institute which not only rehabilitated him, but helped turn his life around completely. Now he divides his time between the occasional lecturing position and helping businesses identify security lapses in their corporate I.T. systems. I can only imagine the lecturing is undertaken for altruistic reasons because, going by the success of the company he presides over, he certainly doesn’t need the money.
‘So?’ He was pressing me, as well he might. I’d been silent for an unacceptably long time.
My heart swells at the sound of a distant clock chiming, signifying the lecture’s end.
‘Saved by the bell,’ he murmurs into my ear, ensuring nobody else could hear him but me.
I exhale slowly, my mind vacant and dizzy, as Luke returns to the front of the class. All around, students are shoving files and books into their bags, grateful to complete the final class of the day.
‘Before you race off,’ speaks Luke’s authoritative voice, causing everybody to pause in their getaways. ‘Page ninety-seven of your textbooks, questions one to thirty. Submit your answers online before our next session.’
I scribble the assignment down on my notepad, before starting to pack my things away like everybody else.
‘And Annabel Jenkins. A word before you go, please? Class dismissed.’
My hands clench more tightly around the book I’m holding. I can feel my pulse escalate, beating nosily in my ears. All around me, the scraping of chairs as they stand, confirms that my classmates are oblivious to my inner turmoil. I chance a quick look towards Luke, but he’s engaged in conversation with a third-year. At twenty-nine, I’m a more mature student than most, but right now, I feel like a wide-eyed, naïve teenager. I wait until the rest of the class clears the room, allowing the door to slam shut behind them. Just the two of us remain.
I look up to see her across the room. Shy, eyes down, fiddling uncomfortably with the strap of her bag, there’s no doubt in my mind that she’s inexperienced with men. Annabel isn’t the kind of woman that I’m normally interested in. At all. And yet, here we are. These past few weeks particularly, I’ve thought of little else but her and I’ve never displayed great aptitude in denying myself pleasure. I walk forwards and pause at her desk. Her trusting brown eyes rise slowly to meet mine. As our gazes lock, my cock twitches restlessly.
‘Walk with me.’
I stride out of the room and down the corridor, Annabel managing to keep pace at my side. This wasn’t what I’d planned, but when I felt myself hardening in response to her proximity, a change of scenery had seemed like the best option. No words are exchanged until we reach my private office and I close the door behind us. The heavy latch clicks decisively, filling the air with apprehensive promise.
‘Is everything okay?’ she manages to stutter.
Is it wrong that I enjoy seeing her like this; nervous, confused, aroused? I walk right up close to her, on the pretext of dropping my files on the desk she’s leaning up against. An image dares to fill my brain. She’s naked, laying back on that same desk, knees spread wide apart as I plough myself into her without mercy. Face contorted in ecstasy, she screams my name, begging for the climax I wickedly continue to deny…
‘It’s great,’ I reply in little more than a growl. A delicious ache surges through my throbbing cock and I have to fight the urge to cup her face in my hands and pull her into a kiss I know we both crave. But I mustn’t touch her. Any relationship between a professor and student is strictly forbidden by the university. Not only could it result in a loss of my own job, but Annabel might fail to graduate. I clench my fingers together in tight fists, to help maintain a semblance of control. ‘Everything would be even better though, if you could just confirm that you don’t want to fuck me. And then leave.’
A silence slinks through the room; thick, sultry, intoxicating.
‘I…I can’t do that.’ She was actually stuttering. God, could she be any more adorable?
‘Funny. Me neither.’
Fenella Ashworth is a British author of contemporary erotic fiction. All of her stories are available from Amazon and free for those with Kindle Unlimited access. Her bestselling novels are ‘To Love, Honour and Oh Pay’ and the Daniel Lawson series.
Fenella also releases stories on BooksieSilk, Booksie, Lush Stories and Literotica, and is often visible in the Literotica ‘Erotic Couplings’ Hall of Fame (Top Rated).
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