Her Dirty Professor(9)

By: Penny Wylder


Exhaling a long, exhausted breath, I say, “I don’t think they’ll tell anyone as long as I give them something in return. Their parents are wealthy, so I doubt they’ll want money, but I’m sure they will want As in this class. But you already have a perfect grade in my class, so what will you want?”

I have a hard time keeping the irritation back. I thought Georgia was different. Stupid me, I was actually starting to feel a connection between me and her. I thought she liked me. Now that I realize she did all of this to blackmail me because of the video, I realize how dumb I’ve been.

“I don’t want anything,” she says.

I watch her, trying to read her face. I’ve been teaching long enough to spot a liar from a mile away. So why am I not picking up on anything? I want to believe her. Those big blue eyes look sincere, and so does the shocked expression on her face, but the way she continues to twist the straps of her backpack tells me she’s not being entirely honest.

“You’re lying,” I say.

She bites her bottom lip, her eyes bouncing between my face and my dick, which has finally settled down in the face of my ruin.

“Well, there’s one thing,” she says.

It’s probably money. Scholarship kids are always scraping by. But how much will she want and how much is this job really worth to me?

“How much?” I ask.

She tilts her head to the side, confused. “How much?”

“Yeah,” I say, getting irritated with this innocent act of hers while she’s committing extortion. “How much money will it take to keep you quiet about the video?”

She leans away from me. Irritation warps her face. On anyone else, it would be ugly, but I think it’s physically impossible for her to be unattractive. “I don’t want your money,” she says, spitting out the words as if they’ve left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Then what do you want from me,” I say, lifting my hands in surrender.

Shaking her head, she says, “I wasn’t trying to get money from you, I just wanted to see your cock!” She slaps her hands against her mouth, eyes wide, as if she’d spilled a secret she’d meant to keep.

A short burst of laughter escapes my lips. I can’t believe what she’s telling me. “In exchange for your silence, you want to see my cock?”

I’ve never seen anyone’s face turn as red as Georgia’s is now. Seriously, is there any blood left in the rest of her body?

“No,” she insists. “Not in exchange for my silence. I never planned to tell anyone. You’re my favorite teacher. I would never do anything like that. I was just . . . I bought the video and now I’m curious. It’s not blackmail. If you don’t show me, it’s not a big deal.” She scrambles for her backpack. It’s adorable the way she keeps dropping her books when she tries to shove them inside. “Never mind,” she says, anxious to escape. “Just forget I said anything,”

When she tries to leave I grab her arm to stop her. “Sit,” I tell her. She stares at my hand connected to her arm. At first I think she’s going to demand that I let her go, or get pissed that I’m physically detaining her, but instead, she obediently sits back in her chair without a word or even a hint of reluctance.

I take another step toward her so her face is right at the opening of my legs, just inches from my boxer-clad dick. “You stayed to see it, so take a look,” I say.

She starts to fidget. “Maybe it was a bad idea—” she starts to say, but I cut her off.

“Look at it.”

Her eyes shoot upward to meet mine, a look of stunned disbelief making her look younger than she is, and somewhat nervous.

Her next words come out slow and methodical, as if she’s thinking really hard about what to say next. “Okay . . . aren’t you going to take off your boxers?”

“No, you’re going to do it for me,” I say, my words curt, leaving no room for her to argue.

I watch her, wondering if she’ll actually go through with it. She looks scared to death.

She starts to laugh, as if I’m joking, but when my lips don’t budge, her laughter trails off. “You’re serious.”

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