Chapter Six
Colton
James is a professor.
My professor.
Learning this about him doesn’t surprise me.
The fact that he’s my professor does. The last thing I expected to see when I walked into that room was him, but the job fits him.
He seemed like the type who had some control in his day-to-day life, which made it even sexier to watch him come undone for me, to watch him kneel for me and beg me to be in control.
I tremble at the thought, wonder what it would be like to have my professor on his knees for me again, though I know that won’t happen.
It can’t happen, no matter how much I crave him.
I’m not the kind of man who would mess with someone’s livelihood like that…
but again, I am trying to get out of his class…
I look at my schedule again while waiting to speak with my advisor. Professor James Valentine. It’s a sexy-as-hell name. He’d clearly been just as shocked to see me. He’d been more shaken than me, though I guess he has more to lose.
Why did he end contact with me? Why did he leave the site?
Maybe the even more important question should be, why do I care so much?
“Mr. Hathaway.” I look up to see my advisor, Gabriella, a pretty Black woman with curls, give me a smile. I follow her into her office, and she closes the door and motions for me to sit. “What can I do for you?”
“I don’t know if you remember, but I had a credit-transfer issue and had to take a political science or history gen ed credit. I wanted to see if there’s any way I can transfer out of that class and take another one.”
“Ooh, I’m not sure. Most will already be filled up unless someone drops. The history and poli-sci classes are fairly hard to get into.” She types on her computer. “You want out of Professor Valentine’s class?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s see what we have here.” She does some searching. “Is there a problem with that class or your professor?”
I’m assuming mentioning I’ve spanked his ass and fucked his brains out isn’t the best response here. I don’t want to say anything to get James in trouble, or even to make it look like there’s a problem with him. “No. I’m just not sure that’s the best fit for me.”
“I can’t promise you’ll have other options. It looks like any of the ones that work with your major are full—like I said, unless someone drops. There’s a waitlist already. I can put you on it for US Economic History.”
Fuck. This isn’t good at all. “What would happen if I dropped it?”
“You have to consider the specifics of your scholarship and financial aid money. You usually need a set number of credits. You could always try and get into another next semester, but it might get you off track a little bit. Oh, no. Actually, none of the options you can take are offered in the spring, so you’d be looking at next year.
I’d recommend trying to make it work if you can. ”
Of course she would. I doubt she would be saying that if she knew the reason I need out of his class.
But then, is it really that bad if James and I don’t hook up again?
What happened happened, we can’t control that, but as long as we’re professional and don’t cross that line, what can go wrong?
“There are no other options?” I ask, doing my due diligence.
It would be better for both of us if I could just get out of the class.
Gabriella tries again but can’t find anything that doesn’t put me behind schedule. I can’t afford to do that. I need to get my degree as soon as possible and stick to the plan.
We can make this work. We’ll keep our distance and forget anything ever happened between us.
I have a feeling that’ll be easier said than done.
*
I end up at Hannah’s after school. Tash, her girlfriend, isn’t home from the shop yet. She works as a hair stylist downtown and sometimes takes clients into the evening.
Hannah gives me a beer as soon as I arrive, and we head to the back porch and put our feet up. “So…intriguing sub from earlier this year…? He’s one of my professors.”
She’s taking a drink when I say that, spitting beer onto the porch and sitting forward. “Shut the fuck up.”
“I’m not kidding. Believe me. I wish I was.”
“Holy shit, babe. That’s not good.”
“You’re telling me.” I take a swig of my beer. “I could tell he was freaking out when he saw me.”
“Well, yeah. He can get in trouble for that, right?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know if they can do anything about the fact that we’ve slept together in the past. I’m assuming that can’t get him in trouble.
We definitely can’t do anything again.” I’m sure it would be frowned upon if they did find out about the past, though.
They can still consider it a conflict of interest, and my work in class and how James grades me will be in question.
“Can you switch out?”
“Tried. It’s a no-go.” I recap what my advisor said.
“Damn. You need to keep it in your pants.”
“I will.” I scratch my head before letting it drop back against the chair. “This is so incredibly fucked.”
“You want him.”
“He’s hot. And…” How do I put into words this sexual connection to someone who isn’t kinky?
“It’s not easy to meet someone who matches me so well sexually—and mentally too because kink is more than sex for me.
” It is for James as well, even if he doesn’t realize it or won’t admit it to himself.
“So it’s like…a different kind of connection? I don’t know how to explain it.”
“But you play with other people. You have that woman you hook up with sometimes, what’s her name…? Crystal. Can’t you get what you need from her? Is that a stupid question?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not, and yeah, Crystal and I are a good match, generally speaking.
” I can’t figure out what it is about James that’s different, though.
Why I get something more out of it. With Crystal, it feeds me sexually and mentally to a degree, but that mental aspect is kicked up a notch with him—like I know a part of him needs it more, but he doesn’t let himself have it nearly enough.
“Anyway, did you miss me at the shop today?” I change the subject, and I’m surprised Hannah lets me.
We talk about work for a bit, then Tasha comes home. She’s a few inches shorter than Han, curvier, her body fuller than Hannah’s long, lean one. Her hair is in box braids today. Last time I saw her it was straight. She gives me a hug, and I kiss her forehead. “Hey, you.”
“You guys keeping out of trouble?” she asks. Tasha is great for Han, and I’m glad she found her. They’ve only been together about a year and a half, but she makes Han happier than I’ve ever seen her.
“Never. Why would we do that?” I wink at her.
I finish my beer, and then we order takeout and have dinner together.
A couple of hours later, I’m home, showered and at my desk, going over class requirements and other shit I need for school.
I’m not surprised James’s syllabus is longer and wordier than the others’.
When I look at the top, I see his email there, which is his preferred method of communication.
Should I let him know I couldn’t get out of his class, or just show up on Wednesday?
He’ll see my name is still on his roster, so it’s not like he’ll be surprised, but I feel an obligation to explain the situation.
I’m not sure something like that is best done by email, though, and I don’t know if school emails are monitored in any way either.
I go into his office-hours scheduler and see that he offers times the next morning. I schedule one first thing in the morning before my other classes begin.