Tempting Teacher: A Student Professor College Romance, page 1
Alana Jade
Tempting Teacher
Alana Jade
Copyright 2021 Alana Jade
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences ages 18 and older.
ISBN: 978-0648362883
Book design by Swish Design & Editing
Editing by Swish Design & Editing
Proofreading by Swish Design & Editing
Cover design by Sarah Paige @ Opium House
Cover Image Copyright 2021
All Rights Reserved
One glance across the classroom.
That’s all it took.
My heart exploded. But I knew it was wrong.
I’m a college student, trying to be the best I can. And he is the handsome teacher who should know better, right?
A juvenile dare from my best friend, involving my teacher, changes the course of my life.
And the subtle glances across the room turn to something much more.
Our chemistry is palpable, even though we try to hide it.
I’m tempting him with everything I have.
Tyler Roberts isn’t just my teacher, he’s the man who has all my attention, and my feelings can’t be ignored.
This game we’re playing is dangerous. But I know he feels this pull too. One kiss, and everything changes. We both know it’s wrong. There’s so much at stake…
But how can something that feels so incredibly right be so damn wrong?
We just have to see if we can make this work
Without being caught…
The characters in this book are the same as Always, Sir. However, the characters have been aged slightly, the story has been modified and extended.
To my children. My everything.
Life is crazy with you all, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Blurb
Dedication
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Connect With Me Online
About the Author
TYLER
Placing my briefcase down at my feet, I quickly adjust the collar of my shirt before taking a long, deep breath. The corridor of the new college I’ve just transferred to is beginning to thin out as students head into their assigned classrooms.
Deep breath, Tyler. Deep breath.
Standing outside of the classroom I’ll call mine for at least the next semester, the noise of students talking and laughing catches my attention. Taking another breath before collecting my bag, I swing the door open and gingerly take a step inside. There’s nothing like first-day jitters.
The room goes deadly silent, and I have all thirty-one pairs of eyes firmly fixated on me, likely sizing up the new teacher.
Feeling their gaze follow me, I walk across the room, past the projector and podium, and place my notebook on the small wooden desk. Pulling my laptop out from my bag, I connect it to the projector before slowly raising my eyes to look at the students.
While some are still trying to work out who I am, the majority have turned their attention back to their prior conversations, the chatter growing louder and louder.
Are they trying to test the new professor?
These guys aren’t teenagers anymore. I expect more than this from juniors.
A few of the students are laughing while looking at me, which, of course, has me quickly glancing at my clothing on the off-chance that I misbuttoned my shirt this morning.
Think nothing of it, I tell myself over and over.
Clearing my throat, the room instantly quiets down. “Good morning, everyone. I’m Assistant Professor Roberts and welcome to physics. You’re most welcome to call me Tyler. I’m new to this college.”
“Welcome,” a chorus of voices call across the room before the front row turns to the next row and starts chatting again.
Rude shits.
Having been warned about this class, I know I need to stay firm with them. Otherwise, they’ll try their best to override me.
“Come on, guys. That’s enough. I’m all for healthy conversation and your input into class discussions, but right now, this is plain rude. If you do your assigned work and listen when needed, we’ll all get along fine.” I grab my folder off the desk and open it to the enrolled-students page.
“Do you normally do attendance?” I ask, angry with myself that I didn’t ask the question when I was being shown around before classes started.
A young woman raises her hand in the front row to answer. “We’ll email you to let you know if we’re absent.”
“Thank you…” I reply, fishing for her name.
“Taylor,” she beams before turning to her friend and whispering.
I’m good with names. I can generally place a face with a name within a few classes, sometimes even sooner if the student catches my attention for good or bad reasons.
“Professor,” a female voice calls from near the back. A hand is raised, but she seems to be engrossed in whatever’s on her damn phone.
“Yes?”
“I’m Nicole. What are your policies regarding cells on desks?” she asks, her eyes shifting to several students down her row.
“I’d prefer them left in bags or pockets and switched to mute if possible. I understand emergencies, and providing it’s a real emergency, then you can keep it on your desk.”
A flurry of students grabs their cells from the desk, stuffing them into their bags or pockets.
A young woman in the second row, her head buried in a textbook, catches my attention. I’m not overly keen on students getting too far ahead, but it’s a fine line. You don’t want to discourage reading altogether.
“Excuse me?” I call, trying to gain her attention.
“She’s a bookworm, Professor Roberts. Grace… he’s talking to you,” Nicole huffs before turning her attention to her laptop.
“Okay… Grace?”
“Yes, professor,” she answers, her eyes widening as she looks at me before a smile pulls at her lips. What a gorgeous girl! I return the smile and can’t help but continue to look at her a few moments longer than I should.
Her pretty, long brown hair hangs loosely over her shoulders, and her blue eyes stand out from across the room.
Snapping myself out of it, I struggle to remember why I called on her.
She’s a student, Tyler. It’s a big no-no.
“Yes, professor?” she repeats.
“Umm… please don’t read too far ahead,” I bumble.
Moving forward, I begin my lesson and am happy to see the students contributing to the class. Most are taking this class as it’s a requirement for their major, whatever that may be.
For me, physics is everything, and I love it. This branch of science has to do with nature and the properties of energy and matter, and it’s what I was born to do. I can get a little passionate when talking about subjects such as atoms, light, and magnetism.
I’m a nerd, I always have been, and it’s something I’m proud of. I graduated high school a year ahead of schedule and at the top of my class, which continued into college. I paid my dues at several colleges around California, and I’m hoping to make tenure by the time I’m thirty.
Running my hand through my thick, dark hair, my eyes drift to Grace again, and this time she’s looking back at me.
I quickly look away.
It’s dangerous territory.
I’ve never had this happen to me before.
Students are off-limits.
GRACE
Was he looking at me?
Me?
Boring and plain Grace Bellamy?
Not in your wildest dreams, Grace, and you know boys are off-limits until after graduation.
Taking a sip from my water bottle, I hope that no one else has seen me locking eyes with my professor.
I noticed Assistant Professor Roberts yesterday as I was walking past the outside of this building. He was on his cell on his way to the coffee shop and laughing away at whoever was on the other end. Probably his wife.
His laugh is what drew me to him. It wasn’t nasally or deep but a happy chuckle that came from the heart. It doesn’t hurt that he’s pleasing to the eye as well.
At the time, I thought he was a student, maybe a senior or an adult student, as he looks only a little older than the rest of us. I’d never have guessed he’s a professor. Well, an assistant professor.
The moment he called my name, and I looked up from my textbook, our eyes locked, and there was something there. I honestly can’t tell you what it is, but it was enough to make my stomach do a flip-flop.
I’m not the type of girl to be boy crazy, that’s left to my best friend, Emma. I’m a strict studier, and everything I do is to better my grades, so I can become the best psychologist I can be and help the many, many people in California who suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD. But this man has caught my eye, and I do believe I have my first little crush on a boy, I mean, man. I mean on Assistant Professor Tyler Roberts.
“Grace,” Emma whispers.
“Yeah.”
“Stop staring at him.” Her laugh is barely audible.
As the words register in my ears, I twist my head to look at her. “What?” I breathe.
“Stop staring.”
“I’m not. I feel like I know him from somewhere,” I lie.
“Oh yeah?” Emma asks, raising her eyebrows.
“Yeah. Maybe from high school.”
“I doubt it. He’s easy ten years older than us,” Emma says, shaking her head.
“Maybe he works at that pizza place, you know, where we went to pick up the pizzas for your birthday?”
“I doubt it, Gracie. Professors get paid good money. I can’t imagine he’d work a second job.”
“True,” I agree, starting to believe my own lies.
“Are you girls all right?” Professor Roberts calls from the front of the room, startling me.
“Ahh… umm,” I stumble.
“What page is this again, please?” Emma asks.
“Seventy-four,” he replies before turning back to the projector screen, which mimics our textbooks.
Emma rolls her eyes at me before shaking her head as I mouth the words, “thank you,” to her. This proves that one small distraction, like an attractive man, can have disastrous effects on my work and study.
I flick my naturally highlighted brown hair over my shoulder and get back to what’s in front of me, but it’s so hard to concentrate.
As class comes to an end, Assistant Professor Roberts announces there will be a study group starting next week and asks for a show of hands who’ll attend.
Yes! Study groups are my thing. Revisiting helps keep the information fresh in your mind. I raise my hand confidently before looking at my best friend, whose hand is still down.
“Come on, Em,” I encourage, but she shakes her head.
Argh. Of course, she’d do that to me.
Looking around the room, I notice that no one else has their hand raised, and my cheeks begin to burn.
“Grace, I’ll put you down for the study group. Anyone else is welcome to join us in the library. Guys, you know it will benefit you all to attend a few sessions.”
A chorus of groans sounds from the room before Professor Roberts dismisses us.
Packing up my things, I make my way to the door with Emma when I’m called upon.
“I’ll meet you outside,” Emma whispers as she flashes her cheeky grins. She flips her long amber hair over her shoulder as she turns away, and I spin around to face the teacher.
“Yes?” I reply politely, my lips in a tight, forced smile.
“Hi. Nice to personally meet you.”
“And you, Profes—” I begin, but he stops me.
“Please, call me Tyler.”
“Sure… Tyler.” My lips tingle as his name passes over them.
It’s not a name I’d pictured him to have. I thought he’d be more like a David or Michael, but it’s a name that suits him. I can imagine his wife calling him Ty.
“Are study groups not a big thing here?” he asks, obviously concerned that no one, besides me, has signed up.
“I’m not too sure. Freshman year, we had some large study groups, and it was great, but it dropped off a lot last year, and this year seems to be even worse. You’ll find that students will show up closer to exam time to cram,” I explain.
“Well, looks like it’s you and me next week, then,” he says, offering me a glimpse of his smile.
Him and me? What?
“Sorry?” I ask, confused.
“You and me… study group.”
“I… I didn’t realize you ran the group, too,” I say. “Professor Huxley never attended. He sent a research assistant once, but the rest of the time, the few students who attended would go over what we’d just learned together, and if we had any questions, we’d have to ask him after class.”
“That won’t sit right with me. If students have questions, they need them answered then and there. That’s why I run my study groups,” he explains.
Oh God, my heart skips a beat.
“That’ll be… good,” I reply, carefully trying to word my answer. “As long as your wife won’t mind you coming home a little later.” The moment the words have left my lips, I regret saying them. Who comments like that to their teacher? It’s so inappropriate.
He chuckles at my comment. “No wife to worry about there.”
Bubbles of excitement form in my stomach before a wave of nerves washes over them.
Purely professional, Grace.
That’s all it is.
“Anyway, I’ll let you go. See you next week.” He beams.
My heart jumps a beat at his sexy-ass smile. I don’t say goodbye, only spin and flee the room.
I need air.
I am confused by what I’m feeling about the situation.
Holy shit.
Not once have I ever felt this drawn to a guy.
The fact that he’s a professor, my teacher, makes things even more confusing.
GRACE
Two Weeks Later…
Fixing the tie on the front of my dress, I look around the decorated church hall. I did this with a little help from a complaining Emma, but I did this. I designed the fall wonderland, then purchased all the decorations and food within my budget, and finally set it all up. I’m so excited to show my mom.
I’ve volunteered Emma and myself to decorate for the fall dance at my mom’s church. The lady who usually decorates was involved in a car accident and has a broken leg, so she’s out of action for a while. Emma wasn’t happy, but after I helped her make costumes for the children she babysits, she owed me a favor.
Mom’s always hoped I’d be more into the church like she is, but it’s not really for me. I love helping with their community dances and, of course, decorating at Christmas time, but I don’t think I could make it a weekly event. Listening to the drab lecture about God each week doesn’t interest me. I have my own beliefs.
I’ve been eagerly waiting for this night to come around. Not for the dance, as it will be mainly people my mom’s age, but to show off my decorating skills. I’ve never really had a chance to showcase what I can make from scratch. With my brain filled with everything going on with college and the feelings I have developed for my professor, it’s been an incredibly welcomed distraction.
Tonight’s freedom didn’t come easily, though. It was a compromise with my father as he knows I have a test next week in one of my classes. Mom came to bat for me this time and said that I’ve worked hard for many years now, and I deserve one night off.
