Me and My Hot Professor Read online

  Table of Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  More from Raquel Belle

  Me and My Hot Professor

  Raquel Belle

  Copyright © 2020 by Raquel Belle. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations or excerpts for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  Belle, Raquel. Me and My Hot Professor.

  Chapter One

  Naomi

  I couldn’t believe that I was running, like a freshman. I dodged between people on Southeastern’s main campus courtyard and ran to the classroom building that my developmental psychology class was in. The air conditioning felt cool and forgiving against my skin when I jogged into the building. All around me, straggling students hurried to find their classes, not concerned with anything but making it on time for the first day.

  A kid with a huge black backpack rushed beside me and slammed my arm with his tank of a bag. “Excuse me! Jerk,” I huffed. He glanced over his shoulder, his brown eyes annoyed. When he saw me, his eyes widened and he muttered a half apology before he hurried down the hall to the computer lab. I knew Classroom Building One like the back of my hand, it had only been a couple of years since I graduated from Southeastern with an undergraduate degree in philosophy. Of course, I came back for something a bit more practical when it came to getting a job. My class was on the other side of the building, I ran down the curving hallway until I got to room 112.

  I opened the door, hoping for a quiet entry but of course the hinges squealed as I pushed it open. Everyone who’d been on time, turned to look at me as I stepped into the class. I smiled apologetically and eyed a convenient seat at the back right corner of the row of desks. Then I glanced at the head of the room and blanked a little bit. An Armani model stood in front of the whiteboard with a stack of papers in his hand. His brown hair capped his head in silky waves, his blue eyes were clear and striking. He looked to have an athletic physique under his button up shirt and fitted slacks. Was that the professor?

  “I knew we’d have some stragglers,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth, touched with humor. I blinked rapidly and glanced around when the class chuckled. My ass hit the seat in the back quickly. I put my bag on my desk to take out my notebook and a pen. “Alright, so like I said, my name is JJ, short for Doctor Joshua James. Call me whatever you like except for Josh.” He started to pass out the syllabus. Instead of handing them out by row for us to pass back, thinking I’d be the last to get one in my row, he passed them out individually. Dr. J seemed oblivious when a few of the younger women fanned themselves when he passed them or giggled when he placed a sheet on their desk. He reached my desk and met my gaze. I realized that he had a black ring around his brilliant blue irises. I smiled shyly and he nodded, I couldn’t help but notice how he looked at me. As if I were something perplexing.

  “Hopefully you all know where you are. This is Developmental Psych, we’ll be delving into all that makes up the minds of children as they develop into adults. We’ll also study how that development affects the adult psyche.” I glanced down at the syllabus, it was a barebones list of the schedule and major assignments. Dr. J walked back to the head of the class and leaned against the lecture podium.

  “I think we all know what first classes are like. It’s just introductions and syllabus stuff. Basically you’ll have four major assignments for this course. All of them will be critical essays. You’ll also have a midterm and a cumulative final. Ah…that’s pretty much it. You guys can take a second to look at the subjects we’ll cover, feel free to ask questions.” I barely had time to look down at my syllabus before the girl beside me raised her hand. Dr. J looked at her and nodded.

  “How long will the essays be?”

  “I want twelve hundred words easy,” he said simply. “Don’t let that intimidate you if you guys aren’t comfortable with writing. There will be a lot of material to pull from when the time comes,” he said. Dr. J asked for any other questions. I stared at the lines of his face, how angular his jaw was and how perfect his cheekbones were. I honestly didn’t think people like him existed outside of photoshop. But, lo and behold, I was proven wrong. He was, by far, the hottest professor I’d ever had.

  “Any more questions?” he asked. The class was silent and he checked his watch. “Alright, well I’ll give a brief overview of what you can expect from me this semester and what I will expect from you, then we’ll do the corny introductions thing,” he said. A lot of the class laughed at that, mostly the girls, there wasn’t much of a joke to laugh at. I rolled my eyes, wondering if every class would be like that. Hopefully the fawning wouldn’t get in the way of his lectures. Dr. J talked about the syllabus a bit more and I took some notes in the margins of my handout.

  “With the formal stuff out of the way, I guess I’ll tell you a little about myself. I’m from Connecticut, I went to school down here at the University of Miami. Then I moved out to California for a little while, taught at USC while getting my doctorate. After that, I bounced around the country a little bit and then ended up back here in sunny South Florida,” Dr. J spread his hands as if that was all there was to him. “Why don’t you kick it off, in the back there, tell us your name and where you’re from, what year you’re in or just something about yourself,” he said, speaking to me.

  The class turned to look at me, naturally. Part of me was glad to go first just so I could get it over with. “Hi, my name is Naomi, I’m from Miami—born and raised—I’m probably older than all of you here, this is my second time around in undergrad. I need a few classes to be able to pursue the master’s program in clinical psychology.” I said.

  “Wow, what did you study the first time around?” Dr. J asked.

  “You guys will laugh at me,” I said. A few people chuckled at the comment. “Philosophy,” I admitted.

  “Oh, that’s not too bad. I mean, I get why you’d come back for another degree but that’s not too bad,” Dr. J said, drawing the laughter that I predicted. I pressed my lips together, being a good sport about it. The class continued to talk about themselves one by one and by the time the last girl spoke, I found out that I was right. I was the oldest in the room, most of the people there were freshman or sophomores. No older than twenty. Dr. J let us out twenty minutes early with nothing left to discuss. As soon as he did, a lot of the girls lined up at the front of the room to ask him questions. I had to chuckle as I put my notebook away.

  “It’s like he walks on water or something, crazy, right?” the guy beside me said. I forgot what his name was. He was tall, athletically built, very blond with striking green eyes. He was cute but he reminded me of a jock.

  “Wha
t can you expect, I guess. The guy’s hot,” I said. He laughed and slung his bag over his shoulder.

  “Catch you Wednesday,” he said. I waved and quickly closed my purse to leave the room along with all of the guys in the class and only a few of the girls. I had two other classes that day and realized that a few of the people in Dr. J’s class would also be in my other classes, including the jock who spoke to me. I learned that his name was Jacob.

  By the time I got back to my apartment, it was three in the afternoon and I was beat. August weather in South Florida was brutal, the sun was no joke. My furry Maine coon cat, Jerry, sauntered around my purse after I tossed it onto the coffee table. My place was cozy, a one bedroom with an open floor plan between the kitchen, living room, and dining room. My balcony looked over the community pool below.

  I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge then fished my laptop out of my bag. I had a few syllabus quizzes to take. Then it occurred to me, I had to have dinner with my family later. I groaned and plopped onto the couch. Jerry rubbed his head on my thigh and rolled over to give me his white belly. I pushed my fingers through his fur and took a deep breath. It wasn’t like I could skip dinner, it would be the fifth time in a row that I’d made an excuse not to attend “family dinner.” It was just hard to go to a place where I was the butt of everyone’s jokes.

  I checked my work schedule, I bartended at a hipster bar that doubled as a coffee shop during the day. Of course I wasn’t on the schedule until next week because my boss knew that I was starting classes. I groaned again and angrily took my syllabus quizzes. My head buzzed with reluctant anticipation at going to dinner, I felt wired, like I was getting ready to head into war. So, I called my best friend Veronika, aka, V.

  “Hey college student!” she answered. I rolled my eyes and started to stress pet Jerry. He didn’t mind it, he was purring away under my hand.

  “Shut up,” I sighed. I glanced at the tv across from the coffee table and debated turning it on.

  “No seriously, how was your first day?” she asked. She was yelling into the phone as if she couldn’t hear me.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “I’m at the gym, one of my earpieces are falling out right now,” she said. She didn’t even sound out of breath. “I have a marathon tomorrow, remember?”

  “Oh shit, yeah, the one I had to skip out on,” I said. I pouted because V and I were marathon buddies. We weren’t true dedicated runners but we did the popular races like for breast cancer, heart health, and whatnot.

  “Yeah, you suck by the way. I hope you can make it to cheer me on,” she said.

  “If I survive tonight. I have dinner with my adopted family,” I said. They weren’t actually my adoptive family but I’ve always felt like they were since I was little.

  “Ugh, just don’t show up and don’t even bother with giving an excuse,” she said.

  “I wish! If I wouldn’t hear about it every day until the next dinner then I’d stay home, believe me,” I said. I reached over Jerry and picked up the tv remote. I clicked it on and glanced at the time again. I had to leave in an hour.

  “When is the last time you saw them?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, don’t care either,” I muttered.

  “Ow, shit, fuck!” V yelled. I sat up, scaring Jerry with how fast I moved. Part of me hoped she’d gotten an injury that she needed me to drive her to the hospital for, then I was immediately guilty for having that fervent hope.

  “Are you okay? Did you fly off of the treadmill?” I asked.

  “I’m fine, no I wasn’t on the treadmill. I dropped a weight,” she said.

  “Is it serious?” I asked, holding my breath.

  V laughed. “You’re horrible, you know that? I’m fine,” she said. “I should probably get off of the phone though before I do get seriously injured. Let me know if you need backup.”

  We ended the call and I glanced behind the couch at Jerry’s bowls next to the wrap around counter. “Oh, why didn’t you tell me there was no food, bud?” I scratched behind his ears and he purred out a meow before stretching to the other side of the couch so that I could get up.

  I fed Jerry and gave into the inevitable to start getting ready for dinner. By the time I was showered and dressed, it was time to leave. On the drive to my parents’ house, I played calming jazz and tried to root myself in my happy place. But, one can always count on the hectic Miami traffic to blow that Zen to hell.

  I got to my parents’ gated community near Wynwood. It was filled with mansions and the gate was always a process to get through. Mostly because my dad had to make sure every person was exactly who security claimed them to be before granting access. I idled at the gate house while the security officer called my dad and did the usual runaround.

  “Alright miss, you can go through,” the guard finally said and lifted the metal bar for me. I drove through and soon pulled into my parents’ long drive. The house was an old Georgian style mansion.

  My brother and sister were already at the house. Jess’s sleek white Mercedes was parked behind my mom’s, which was the same make and model, only painted red. My brother Casey’s sporty BMW was parked behind Jess. I’m sure when they got to the gate my dad let them right in. I stayed within the comfortable enclosure of my trusty Honda Civic and took a few deep breaths. Then I saw the front door of the house open and Jess stepped out.

  She and I looked like twins that were separated by four years. We had our dad’s dark red hair and height. We had our mom’s brown eyes and facial features, high cheekbones, a prim nose, and fair skin. Even though we looked alike, I always thought Jess was prettier than me. She stepped down to the driveway and walked towards me. She had a graceful and practiced stride from nearly twenty-five years of ballet. Jess owned her own studio for ages seven through seventeen. She also helped choreograph and train the Miami City Ballet. Jess had always seemed otherworldly and beautiful to me. She, though, hardly saw me in the same way.

  Jess walked to my car and tapped on the window. She tossed her hands out as if asking me, “what the fuck?” I stifled my sigh, turned off the car, and got out.

  “How long were you going to sit in the car?” she asked. “Everyone’s ready to eat inside,” she added.

  “What about drinks?” I asked. I followed her at a much slower pace towards the front door. “And hi, by the way,” I said. Of course, she ignored me.

  “We had them already, you should know to come at least a half hour early by now. You know how Dad is with his dinner schedule,” she said. “Anyways, I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to remind you about Mom’s birthday brunch this coming Saturday. It’s at ten.”

  “Oh, right. Yeah that’s on my calendar, I haven’t forgotten.” We walked up the few steps to the red painted front door. The columns on either side were a pristine white. The brick of the house looked to have just been pressure cleaned too. I had half a mind to take a fistful of dirt from the garden and smear it on the house.

  “How are you, anyway?” I asked. Jess pushed the door open and we stepped into the foyer. My mother’s new maid was on standby, waiting for my purse. I smiled at her, having forgotten her name, and handed her my bag. “Thank you,” I murmured.

  “I’m busy as usual. You know me,” Jess said dismissively. She turned into the formal living room where my brother’s boisterous voice echoed against the walls. He must’ve been telling a joke, Mom and Dad were laughing as he stood in front of them. Casey was tall, like our dad. He had our mom’s tan skin and dark brown hair but Dad’s blue eyes. He’d always been handsome, athletic and my parents’ pride and joy.

  “My god, Naomi. I forgot what you looked like,” Mom said. She stood up from the couch and crossed the room to give me a hug.

  “Nao, I didn’t know you were coming!” my dad, Roth, stood up as well but didn’t make any moves to hug me or anything.

  “Yeah Dad, I said I would make it tonight and you let me in through the gate,” I said. He chuckled.

  “Ho
w’s our repeat college student?” Casey said. I ignored him.

  “Mom, what’s the maid’s name again?” I asked.

  “It’s Nancy but don’t get attached to her. I’m firing her at the end of the week, I don’t think she does well here,” she whispered.

  “I’d offer you a drink, Nao but it’s about time for dinner,” Dad said. We all walked to the dining room which was attached to the kitchen by an archway. The table was set and Nancy was putting a serving spoon into the bowl of quinoa.

  “Thank you Nancy,” Mom said with unnecessary emphasis on Nancy’s name. I sat down beside Jess, across from Casey while Dad and Mom sat at either end of the table. I glanced at the food, my mom was still in a health nut phase. There was quinoa, roasted summer veggies, and a glazed fish of some sort.

  “Looks healthy, Mom,” I said.

  “Don’t make fun of the food, I’m sure your college diet consists of fast food and ramen noodles,” she said. My dad and brother echoed each other in laughing at me.

  “I don’t eat crap Mom. I can afford groceries,” I said. She shrugged and spooned some quinoa onto her plate.

  “How are your classes?” Jess asked.

  “They’re good, interesting. I’m looking forward to the semester,” I said.

  “That’s great, honey. I’m glad you chose something interesting and practical. It’s just a shame you didn’t take our advice the first time around,” Dad said.

  “Dad, maybe if you guys hadn’t tried to force me into pre-med or pre-law, we’d be having a different conversation right now,” I said.

  “Of course, everything is always our fault,” Mom said in a low voice. The table was quiet then while we put food on our plates and started to eat.

  Casey glanced up from his plate with a smirk on his face and I knew before he opened his mouth to speak that he was going to take a dig at me. “So are you the oldest person in your classes?”

  “So what? There are older people who go back to school and undergrad too. Leave her alone,” Jess said. “How’s work going?” she asked him.