My Professor (Man Card Book 5) Read online

  My Professor

  Man Card Book Five

  Terra Kelly

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  A note from the author

  Join TK’s Newsletter!

  About the Author

  Also by Terra Kelly

  Books by T.M. Kelly

  Acknowledgments

  Synopsis

  This had to be a nightmare. Who forgets to attend a class? Not just on one day but for the whole semester. Yes, that would be me!

  To graduate I need the credits. To get the credits I need to retake the class.

  Just as I thought my summer was doomed I saw my professor. Things are about to heat up and I’m not talking about the temperature outside.

  The man card series is a collection of short stories that are full of steamy romance. You're guaranteed that perfect happy ending and a cupboard full of sweets from all the cravings.

  One

  Ally

  “You sure you’re doing okay?” Rylee reached for my hand and sat down beside me. “You’ve been acting weird since you got home from the beach.”

  “Weird?” I pulled my hand away and wrapped my arms around my chest. “How so?”

  She waved her hands in front of me. “This.” She leaned back against the couch cushion. “You’re super closed off, quiet, and every time I touch you, you pull away.”

  The last month had been hell. That was probably me being overdramatic, but it felt like my own personal hell. I should’ve graduated with my fellow classmates. Instead I had to meet with my advisor about my options. Somehow I forgot about a class and I received an F for the grade. My GPA was still good but there was no way I wanted that F to stay on my record. I only had A’s and B’s in high school and college, well, until this fucking grade. It probably wouldn’t matter when looking for a job but for personal reasons, I wanted to make this right.

  Tears had threatened to fall for about a week and I denied every single one. The whole situation was fucking embarrassing. “Do you promise not to laugh?” I wiped a tear that escaped and dropped my head onto Rylee’s lap. “You have to promise, Ry.” I held up my pinky to make her swear.

  “Um, okay.” She hooked her pinky with mine. “Why am I doing this?”

  “Because I’m an idiot and I don’t need you to remind me.”

  “Ally.” She pushed at my shoulder and I sat up. “I have never ever called you an idiot.”

  “You may now.” I grabbed my phone off the coffee table to show her the email.

  “What’s this?” She took the device from my out-stretched hand and glanced at the screen. I watched as each expression played across her face. “Um.” There was a smile starting to form. “Is this for real?”

  “Well, I didn’t graduate yet.” I yanked the phone away. “One fucking class.”

  “Did you talk to the teacher?”

  “Ry, I forgot about the class. I never even went.”

  She finally burst out laughing. “How the hell do you forget about a class?”

  I stood and made my way into the kitchen. “It was an elective.”

  “Yeah, so,” she said and followed behind me. “They’re still important.”

  “Ya think.” I felt a little annoyed but knew my anger shouldn’t be pointed at my dear friend. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as I poured a glass of water. “I see that now.”

  “I’m sorry, but you have to admit this is pretty funny.” She cleared her throat and struggled to stop laughing.

  “Spending my summer in a classroom is not my idea of funny.” I shook my head and took a drink of water. “You want to take the class for me?”

  “Um, no.” Rylee quickly said and covered her mouth. I knew she wanted to laugh some more. I could tell by her facial expression. “You like history though.”

  I shoved at her arm. “I like laying on the beach more.”

  “It’s just an elective. It’ll be easy.” She grabbed a donut from the box sitting on the kitchen counter. “You go to class a few days a week and the beach the other days.”

  “First, we’re not that close to a beach, and second, there are two papers due to complete the requirements.”

  “Two papers for an elective? What the hell?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “And you have to take this specific class?”

  Gabby made me load up on donuts at Nova’s bakery. There was still a dozen in my freezer. I broke off a piece from the donut in Rylee’s hand. “To wipe out the F, I have to retake the exact same class.”

  “What was it again, history?”

  “Yup,” I dropped my head onto the counter and groaned. “I will be a pro about The Declaration of Independence in about eight weeks.”

  “Hey, and right around July 4th.”

  “Are you still trying to find a positive in this situation?”

  She actually laughed. “No, no.”

  I pointed my index right at her face. “Shut it.” Now she was in fits of giggles. There was a paperback book sitting on the counter. I reached for the book and threw it at her chest. “Just because you love me, you’ll be my study helper.”

  Rylee stopped laughing. “No.” She started to walk backwards out of the kitchen. “Didn’t I tell you? Weston needs help this Summer with a cookbook he’s working on.”

  “Is that true?” I followed her out of the room. “You never told me he was writing a cookbook?”

  She reached for her keys and opened the front door to leave. “I didn’t? That’s weird.” She stepped onto the porch. “Yeah, it’s going to be amazing.”

  “You’re fucking lying, aren’t you?” I had my hand on the door and watched as she turned to head down the steps. “There’d better be a cookbook in the works now though.”

  “There is, I promise. Take care, sweetie.” She blew me a kiss and practically ran to her car. “Love you,” she yelled and slid into the driver seat.

  “I kinda hate you right now,” I mumbled so she didn’t hear me. Then I yelled, “Love you,” and blew her a kiss. “Great,” I said and closed the front door. “History class to kick off my summer. My own personal hell.”

  Two

  Professor James Hardy

  “Why is there only one student enrolled?” I handed the student list to my assistant. “I thought we needed ten or more to attend?”

  “Oh, that’s weird.” Kathy reached for the list and stared at if for a few seconds. “Oh, I see it.” She pointed to the one column on the spreadsheet. “It’s a private session.”

  “I thought I only had to do that in special circumstances?”

  “Looks like it may be one of those moments.”

  I was on the way to my beach house when Kathy called about the class. “The student needs a private session to learn about The Declaration of Independence?”

  “Yes.” She turned and started to type something on the computer.

  “I have to teach this one person for the next eight weeks something she could easily do during the regular semesters.”

  “James, you know some people need extra help.” She stopped typing and looked up at me. “If it’s a problem I can contact her directly.”

  I knew I was just being an asshole. My vacation was not a priority. “No, it’s fine.” I grabbed the student list and made my way into the office. “Thanks, Kathy.”

  This was my second year at the college and fourth year teaching history. Actually, what I had t
o teach in the private session was one of my favorite subjects. I loved everything about the year 1776 and I especially enjoyed teaching about the committee of five that drafted The Declaration of Independence.

  I pushed my glasses up further on the bridge of my nose and thought about my tiny cottage by the beach. The hammock on the porch was looking pretty inviting at the moment. My idea of a good time consisted of a novel about one of the men that made July fourth a huge celebration today.

  I pulled out the office chair and sat down. I needed to find out who I would be teaching for the next several weeks. The name on the student list said Alison. My brain didn’t register who it was at first. Then I opened the file on my computer and caught Alison’s last name.

  “Kathy, can you come in here?” I sat back in my chair.

  “Yes, Professor Hardy.” She opened the door and leaned against the door frame.

  “Professor Dans passed this student my way. Do you know why?”

  She pushed off the door and turned to leave. “He said something about family emergency. Can you commit or do I need to cancel the session?”

  “No, don’t cancel it.” My eyes locked onto Alison’s last name and visions of her ran through my mind. “Something tells me the next eight weeks just got a little more interesting.” I was talking to myself as I brought up Alison, or as I liked to call her, my kitten, in a web search. An image popped up of her smiling face. She was supposed to be off limits. If I had to spend eight long weeks alone with her, I planned to flip the off switch back to on.

  Three

  Ally

  “Who’s teaching the class?” Rylee handed me a cup filled to the top with her special sangria recipe. “Don’t tell me, it’s Howly?”

  “No, Dans, thankfully.” I wasn’t planning to take a private class but my options were limited. “Eight weeks alone with the man may cause me to take up day drinking.”

  For the last week I had been trying to find the positive in this mess. I still was drawing a blank on the pros but my list of cons was almost never ending.

  “Isn’t this day drinking?” She held up her glass and clinked mine.

  “You never add a ton of alcohol to your recipe.” I took a drink and immediately started to cough.

  “Yeah, about that.” She was trying not to laugh as she patted her hand on my back. “I wanted to test a new recipe.”

  “Did you put the whole bottle of vodka in this one?” There was a catch in my throat and I couldn’t stop coughing. “Holy fuck.” My throat was actually burning and getting worse the more I coughed.

  “Half.” She ran over to the sink to grab some water. “So this recipe doesn’t get the pretty star next to the title?”

  “This one should be ripped up and then maybe burn it so no one can find it.” I guzzled half the glass of water. “Sangria should be light and refreshing; not make your throat feel like it’s on fire.”

  “That bad, eh?” She reached into the recipe drawer by the stove and grabbed the top sheet off the pile. “Are you sure you want me to get rid of it? We could look at adjusting the recipe to make it amazing.”

  “Stick with what you know, Ry.” I reached over and grabbed the paper from her hands and quickly ripped it up. The clock on the microwave caught my eye. “Shit, it’s already one. I need to go.” My class was Monday, Wednesday, and Friday two to five. “I know this may come as a surprise, but I would rather sit and enjoy that horrible drink all day.”

  She pushed at my back to shove me out the door. “You suck. Plus, you just tore up the recipe so now what?”

  “I hate you.” Of course I was joking but I kinda hated everything at that moment.

  “Don’t have too much fun.” She waved as I slid behind the wheel of my tiny car.

  Seriously, if time travel was real, I would fix this fucked up mess. I still couldn’t believe I wasn’t able to graduate with my class. When I begged my advisor to just let me walk with the rest of the class, and then I finish these credits this summer, she immediately said no. Thank fuck I was almost done with all this shit.

  Parking was easy in the summer months. I found a spot right by the building and I was even twenty minutes early for class. That was a new record for me.

  When I walked into the small room there was a man standing with his back facing me. “Hi,” I said in my shy voice. I was far from shy but at the moment everything felt off. The room felt closed in and slightly claustrophobic. I hated this situation I was in, and my summer was fucked because I was an idiot.

  Then he turned around.

  My bag slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. “Um.” For the first time in my life I was at a loss for words. “You’re not Professor Dans.”

  He took a few steps closer to me. “You noticed that, huh?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He looked down at his sheet of paper in his hand. “It says here you need a private session on The Declaration of Independence.”

  “Well,” I cleared my throat. “I didn’t really need a private session. It was the only option.” I watched how his eyes were locked onto me as he took another step forward. “Um, where’s Professor Dans?” Just like all those months ago, the man was throwing me off.

  “Family emergency.” He crossed his arms over his chest and had this sexy half smile that was starting to break me. “So I canceled my trip and came back home.”

  “Fuck. I mean, I’m so sorry.” This was only man in my life who was able to render me speechless. He had this controlling demeanor but yet was a teddy bear behind his tough exterior. I found everything about our time together memorable. “We could take the class to the beach.” I was joking of course. He told me once he had a summer cottage there. I had several dreams of that cottage and all the things we could do there. “Kidding.” I coughed and stepped away to go sit down. “So, this is going to be fun.” A part of me wasn’t kidding though. If I could have back the many times we spent all day in bed; I would jump at the opportunity in a heartbeat.

  “Alison Radcliff.” I stood up at the mention of my name and dropped my bag for the second time in less than ten minutes. The fucking man was messing with my head. He walked over and bent to grab my bag. When he lifted up, my chest was touching him. “My kitten,” he leaned in and whispered beside my ear.

  I turned my head the moment he said the pet name. “Professor.”

  “We have a problem. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m sensing that.” I reached for my bag still in his grasp. “I’ll take the F. It’s fine.”

  When I turned to leave I felt Professor Hardy’s fingers wrap around my bicep. “You’re not going anywhere, Kitten.” I closed my eyes and tried to visual actual kittens in my mind. The only vision that continued to pop up was his body moving up and down as his cock plunged in and out of me.

  “James,” I finally said and turned my head. We were only a breath apart. “If we couldn’t keep our hands off each other before. What makes you think we will now?”

  He reached his hand up and fisted his fingers in my hair. “I have an idea.”

  “I’m afraid to ask.” His hands were now laced behind my neck.

  “What if we did take this private session somewhere else?”

  “Meaning?” If I didn’t have to be locked up in a classroom I was all ears. “What, your beach house?” I laughed and then noticed his face go serious. “You know I was kidding earlier, right?”

  “Sure.” He was making it impossible for me to move away from him. I needed some distance. I needed to absorb everything that was happening. “But it’s not a bad idea.”

  “You do like your beach house, and I like sunbathing on the beach.” I finally lifted my head and looked right into his whiskey colored eyes. “But what if Professor Dans finds out?”

  “He has no say in where the class is held.” He brushed a strand of hair away from my eye. “Actually, my assistant has gone too.”

  “Why would she leave?”

  “Because I told he
r to.”

  “Fuck,” I dropped my head.

  My mind wandered back to when I started my third year. I walked into the classroom and noticed Professor James Hardy, the teacher for history 101. His shirt was wrinkled and partially untucked. I loved how his glasses would slide down continuously. There was an element of sexy under the nerd exterior.

  When I set up a meeting to discuss my grades, never in my wildest dreams did I plan to make his desk my new best friend. I could still see him sitting at the desk. His wrinkled shirt unbuttoned and his hand hiding under the waist band of his pants. It was fucking hot. The assistant forgot to let him know I was coming, so he decided to come on his own.

  I still couldn’t tell you what came over me that day, but I walked behind the desk like I owned the place and knelt down in front of him.

  “Kitten.” He placed his hand under my chin and lifted it up. “What are you thinking about?”

  “How this is all a very bad idea.” There was an inner duel playing in my mind. One side thought it was a bad idea, while the other side was telling me to go get my swimsuit.

  “Is it though?” He brushed his finger down my jawline.

  “James.” I finally gave in and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You made it clear this couldn’t happen.”

  “Circumstances have changed.”

  “Like the fact that I’m about to graduate.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You hurt me.” I tried to let go of the past, but the pain was still real.

  “I fucked up.”