Teacher’s Pet (KanderHill University #1)

1. Prologue

Prologue

NATHAN

His smile curled up, his bottom teeth grazing his pouty lips. His attire was more modest than usual, a casual hoodie, but his posture was open, as if inviting trouble.

No skintight jeans tonight, no—he clearly reserved those for my class only.

I gripped my whiskey as he leaned closer to the man buying him yet another raspberry margarita. The man he was entertaining was a nobody, older, greying at the sides, clearly trying to ply his prey with alcohol.

And Ryan was playing along, even slurring his words a bit for the game. His eyes were slightly glazed over as he spilled some margarita onto the man's finger and licked it off, but I knew he was just playing the part.

I downed my drink, the alcohol burning my throat, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, not because I was interested, but because I was worried.

That man was too old for him.

Not your problem.

I signaled the waiter for another drink.

“Wow, slow down,” Carol grinned, winking at me. “Here, want mine?”

Carol shoved her peachy margarita into my hand. I grinned back, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt, and chugged it.

“Someone’s thirsty,” Carol teased, her hand grazing mine as I returned the cup.

I forced myself to ignore the obnoxious flirting at the bar, or the way the man was putting on his coat and standing up.

“Needed a drink; the semester’s going to be hell,” I retorted, dragging my eyes away from him.

“Hear! Hear!” Michael cheered, coming from the bar, momentarily blocking my peripheral view and handing us new drinks.

He slid next to me, hand around my shoulder. “Hey man, look at the bright side, no more Lilly! Cheers!”

I rolled my eyes but clashed my drink with his anyway.

I looked over, but Ryan was gone.

Did he leave with the man?

Did Ryan know how dangerous that was?

He could be raped, or killed… how long did he even chat with him?

“Earth to Nathan…” Carol singsonged, and I averted my gaze to her deep blue eyes.

“What?”

“Jesus, man, you're so distracted. Is this about Lilly?” Michael tsked, drinking more alcohol.

I knew going out with them was a bad idea.

I usually didn’t, since I wasn’t a fan of what alcohol entailed.

People getting sloppy and loud after a few drinks, some even reckless, and doing that in a college bar?

No thanks. Usually, I'd be home making a home-cooked meal for Lilly. My wife. Or my ex-wife now.

Or at office hours with a certain somebody.

A snide voice echoed in my brain.

I clutched my drink, my mind still reeling from when she asked for a divorce. What really irked me was the situation around it. It was completely my fault.

“Leave him alone,” Carol scolded, tucking a brown strand behind her ear. “Nathan doesn’t have to talk about it.”

She turned, giving me a small smile, her lipstick slightly smudged at the corner.

“If anything, she’s the unlucky one, losing a man like you.”

“I appreciate that, Carol.”

I smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks tinted pink and how Michael scoffed.

For some reason, the alcohol was dampening my mood, and I felt a deep sense of anger blooming in my chest.

I should go home and sleep this off.

“I've got to go. See you tomorrow morning.”

Michael drunkenly held his beer up to salute me, and Carol gave me a tight smile, leaning back into her chair.

“See you tomorrow, Nathan.”

Michael rambled on about something else, but I was already on my way out the door.

***

As the cold air hit me, the only thing still on my mind was the way Ryan’s eyes had clung to that man, as if he wanted to devour him. But knowing Ryan, it could mean nothing at all.

I made my way toward my car. I didn't live near the city, not a fan of all the lights. Despite how much farther it was from campus, I preferred my house in the hills.

That, among other reasons.

I was frustrated.

This feeling of nerves was gnawing at me from the inside out.

I wasn’t sure why… at least, I wanted to believe I didn’t know why.

A primal instinct stirred within me, something ancient and buried deep beneath layers of professionalism.

It was natural psychology, especially among men—watching someone as undeniably attractive as Ryan give another man that pout, those fuck-me eyes.

It provoked envy, raw and difficult to suppress.

But I couldn't allow myself to see Ryan that way.

He was a student. My student, for God's sake. Yet, beneath all my rationalizations, I was still just a man.

I started my car and drove thirty minutes to my house. It was dark by the time I got there and opened the door. I made myself another drink, a stronger one, not that watered-down garbage they sold at the college bar.

I drank, took my tie off, and flung it onto the couch.

I started reviewing student assignments. I'd asked them for a simple case study analysis on any person, real-life or media, depicting any type of mental illness.

They were all pretty basic essays, showing little actual awareness or understanding of our topics in class.

Truthfully, I was avoiding my bedroom upstairs; I already knew what awaited me up there, or rather who.

Dammit, I couldn’t keep doing this.

I only had so much self-control. So much restraint. Especially around a siren like him.

The more I thought about it, the better the prospect of going up there sounded.

And I hated that.

It felt like all rational thinking was being discarded, traded in for the promise of a soft voice and unforgettable plush lips.

I was determined to stay down here. I was.

But the buzz interrupted me. I already knew who and what was waiting.

Brat

Don’t make me wait.

Get up here.

nathan.

professor thorne?

Fighting back was futile; he made sure of that. He was conniving and had all the resources in the world, courtesy of his Mom and Dad.

I could always kill him.

I chugged the last of my drink and made my way upstairs. Unfortunately, I enjoyed not having blood on my hands, no matter how deranged this individual might be.

As I climbed the stairs, I saw evidence of him:

Shirt. Pants. Socks. Boxer briefs.

The door had a tie hanging on it, so I quickly pried it open.

The room was pitch dark, so I turned on the dimmed lights. He was immediately visible, perched naked on my bed with a grin on his face.

Ryan.

He looked… undeniably attractive. It was hard to deny his good genetics: long lashes, blond hair, pleading green eyes. He tilted his head submissively, as if to demonstrate how he'd beg.

But I knew better.

He was no prey.

“Professor…” he purred, giving me an appreciative once-over.

“Mmm, looking good.” He stood up, not very tall, but not short either.

He came up to my chin. If he were straight, his girlfriend wouldn’t be allowed to wear heels, but his height was perfect enough that a guy like me could easily throw him down and bend his body to my will.

His very naked body.

“Didn’t I tell you my home was off-limits?” I retorted, but that clearly didn't affect his morale.

He walked closer, gripping the back of my hair firmly.

Here's the thing: he was exactly the type to cry wolf. If I pissed him off and told him to leave, he'd accuse me of assault, even if I hadn't touched him. He'd already proven how unstable he could be. Plus, he was the son of a powerful man. Double fuck.

He toyed with my hair, pulling it as he moved closer. His eyes were beautiful, large, and green, but they always held a darker, shadowy edge that I selfishly enjoyed. He inched closer, grabbing my chin and tilting it upward, then downward, before pressing his lips to my neck and biting down.

A hickey, if you could call those marks a hickey.

He pulled back, and my hands tensed at my sides. Suddenly, one of his hands moved to my zipper.

“That's enough, Ryan.” I grabbed his hand and removed it. I avoided looking down, though his cock was blatantly taunting me.

“That was further than you usually let me go, Professor,” he murmured, fingers now teasing the bottom buttons of my shirt. “I think you're learning. Good boy .”

I sighed, taking him in. Beautiful and aware of it, unfortunately. Pouty pink lips.

I took his hands and placed them at his sides.

“I told you, Ryan, do not come to my house. Understand? I'm asking you to leave now.”

“No.” He blinked innocently, retreating to my bed and laying down, patting the spot next to him as he bit his lip seductively.

I sighed again and sat at the edge of the bed.

“Ryan—”

He grabbed his phone from my drawer and quickly snapped a photo of me, adding to his twisted collection, then grinned and set the phone down.

“If you kick me out, I'll send that photo to my Father and let him know a certain professor likes inviting students over. Who do you think he'll believe?”

My jaw clenched, and my blood ran cold. I wanted to hurt him.

Ryan was dangerous; he ignited a primal rage within me. If he'd been disciplined earlier in life, perhaps he wouldn’t have devolved into such a deviant.

His eyes shone as I moved closer to the bed. He sat up straighter, sensing my anger.

The fury built.

I raised my hand, and he instantly leaned forward, eyes glazing, posture submissive, so docile, like a doll for my pleasure rather than the person who'd destroyed my marriage.

I slapped him across the face. He whimpered softly, sliding slowly to his knees before me.

He looked up with pleading eyes.

He touched his cheek, gazing up imploringly.

“Please. Can I? Please, Professor… I'll leave afterward…”

I wanted to refuse. He was my student and a loose cannon, but my career and reputation hung in the balance.

If I rejected him, he'd likely retaliate, ruining my life again.

“Fine.”

His eyes glazed over, and he purred softly against my clothed cock.

“Daddy,” he whispered as he unbuttoned my pants.

What a slut.

A dirty, shameless slut.

I shouldn't be allowing this.

Instead, I spread my legs slightly and guided my cock into his mouth, watching him hum reverently as he worshipped it.

I clenched my jaw.

I knew I shouldn't allow this, shouldn’t relish how submissive he became with a mouthful of cock.

A better man wouldn't.

Yet, a darker, hungrier part of me reveled in his submission. I grabbed a fistful of his hair.

“Did you let that older man at the bar fuck you before you came here? Ryan, answer me. You know that’s not safe.”

His mouth still full, he didn't respond, peppering kisses on the head instead. Finally, he drew back slightly and gave a small, wicked smile.

“So what if I did?” Ryan whispered darkly, pressing a mocking kiss to the aching head. His eyes glittered dangerously, and his lips twisted into a sinful smirk. “You’re not jealous, are you, Professor?”