Tutoring Center , livre ebook

4 Horsemen Publications, Inc. - Ali Whippe

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

25 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

Take another peer under the skirt of higher education!
When student William Turner literally crashes into tutor Kimberly Chapman in the stairwell, he expects her to shout at him and call him clumsy while they clean up the spray of papers and books.
He does not expect the pages she carries to be erotica, but he is pleasantly surprised to find that this tutor is way more excited by words than numbers.
Their instant attraction keeps getting interrupted, but they finally find a time and place to relish one another's company.
The Tutoring Center at Abraxus Tasker College is suddenly a very entertaining place to be!

Sujets

Adulte

Romance érotique

BD Erotique

contemporary

Erotica

Romance

Fiction

Informations

Publié par	4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
Date de parution	26 octobre 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781644500507
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0250€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Tutorin g Center
Copyright © 2020 Ali Whippe. All rights r eserved.

4 Horsemen Publicatio ns, Inc.
1497 Main St. S uite 169
Dunedin, FL 34698
4horsemenpublicat ions.com
info@4horsemenpublicat ions.com
Cover & Typesetting by Battle Goddess Pro ductions
All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain per mission.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used ficti tiously.
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-644 50-050-7
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-644 50-091-0
Audiobook ISBN: 978-1-644 50-049-1

Dedication
To J, for the nau ghty dream

1
W illiam Tucker leaves the office of Dr. Jacoby, trying to hide his semi-erection with his book bag as he walks down the corridor, relieved that no other students are around. It’s early evening, and the building is often empty at this time. Only professors are still lingering in their offices, catching up on grading or whatever else it is they do when they aren’t teaching.
He tries to ignore the image that forms in his mind of Dr. Jacoby alone in her office after hours, hair unbound and free as she stretches in her desk chair, the shape of her full breasts revealed as her shirt tightens, long shapely legs on display as she rests her bare feet on the desk in front of her. He knows that she has started wearing stockings lately, likely garters if the quick glimpse he’d seen when he’d once walked into her office unannounced to find her slightly sprawled in the chair before she quickly rearranged her legs to hide her thighs was accurate, but at the start of the semester, she’d been prone to bare legs, and he knows she takes her shoes off under the desk every chance she gets.
He likes Dr. Jacoby, but it’s an idle fantasy—she’s never looked at him with true desire. He has a feeling that she has a lover and a truly wild side, but it’s mostly conjecture, and though he enjoys toying with the idea, he enjoys his discussions with her far more. His slightly hard dick is more a result of the lack of action lately than any ac tual lust.
Reaching the end of the hallway, William looks from the door to the stairwell on his right to the elevator doors on his left. He can take the elevator down the four floors to the ground, but he’s heard that alarm go off more than once while in class, and he’s also heard his fellow students complain about how often it breaks down—and just how long it has taken for someone to show up and open those doors. He shivers at the thought of being stuck in there all n ight long.
Unless Dr. Jacoby discovered him and he hit the porn lottery, it would be a lonely experience. Though he has never had sex in an elevator before, he tries to shut down the part of his mind that wonders at the logistics. There was that bar that ran around the inside about hip level—could he wedge her on top of that and stand up? He might be the right height, but he doesn’t want to end up doing the splits while fucking her—his thighs aren’t up to that kind of exercise for any extended period of time. He’s not in awful shape, but he’s no athlete either. He doesn’t want to lay her on the floor either, not after so many people have been doing who-knows-what in there all day. The idea of sitting naked on the floor douses any remaining desire, and he lets his mind wander in another direction.
He wonders who would miss him if he didn’t go home tonight, and then tries not to think about that either. He pictures the empty apartment waiting for him and decides that he can’t face it right now. Not yet. He’s been lingering in his professor’s office, finding reasons to stay and chat so he doesn’t have to think about the empty side of the closet where all of his ex’s clothes used to hang, the empty spaces in his bathroom where she used to keep all of her stuff. And how much stuff it had been—who knew how much shit women needed to get ready? He decides that he doesn’t mind having his bathroom sink to himself again. The rest, though, sti ll stings.
I can’t go home right now , William decides, checking his watch to see if the library is still open. 7:30. Another half hour. That will work for a bit, he decides, and then maybe he will go to the diner across the street and do some classwork until he gets tired and can’t thin k anymore.
Plan in mind, he heads down the stairs, trotting down all four flights easily, his boots echoing loudly in the empty stairwell. He reaches the bottom, erection forgotten, mind already cataloguing the chapters he will read first, and opens the heavy outside door to the breezeway between this building and the library when he collides with another person. There is a crash of bodies, a flutter of papers and books that scatter around them, and a decidedly frustrated fem ale curse.
William looks up, taking in the flowered dress surrounding luscious curves, the horn-rimmed glasses before bright eyes, the dark hair secured in a bun but with wisps escaping to frame a lovely face. “I’m so sorry!” he exclaims, pushing the door out again as it starts to close on both of them. “I didn’t see you,” he ad ds lamely.
The woman looks at him, then at the pile of papers and books laying haphazardly around them. One of the pages starts to blow away in the breeze from the open door, and without thinking, William steps on it to keep it in place. She sighs, the sound an echo of the tiredness in William’s soul, and he grins at her in understanding. He is mildly surprised when she grins back. His experiences with women have taught him to expect annoyance or frustration—definitely not this shared ca maraderie.
“No worries,” she says in a friendly voice, pushing by him and allowing the door to close. She leans down to start gathering the papers and books, and William bends down to help. He moves his foot off the piece of paper and reaches down, and as he does, she leans forward, and the two of them clunk foreheads with a loud hol low sound.
The collision causes both of them to sit back hard on their heels and eventually fall onto their butts. William’s first impulse is to laugh, and the sound escapes him without warning, but then she is laughing, and then they are staring at each other through a haze of pain and tears as the laughter tears through them. When they finally collect themselves, William is trying not to be so obvious in checking out the length of pale thigh exposed by her dress, the floral material currently riding high on her lap. She seems to follow his gaze, but instead of glaring at him, she smiles, the expression warming her face and matching her cheeks, still pink from laughter.
They sit there for another companionable moment, and then she sighs heavily, the sound loud in the empty stairwell, surveying the mass of paper and books around them. “Let me help you with that,” William offers, reaching out slowly to collect the closest papers. He glances at them as he does so, surprised to discover they are not student essays as he had thought. The writing is double-spaced, but there are no headings to mark student names. A line from the text jumps o ut at him:
“Please,” she screamed, “Please fuck me!”
Intrigued, William lets his eyes wander along the page, at first sure he is tired and misreading things, but then she is grabbing for the pages, and their hands meet, and she is looking at him and he is looking at her, each waiting for the other to speak. William takes t he plunge.
“Interesting reading material,” he comments, sliding the pages into a pile without readin g further.
She quirks an eyebrow at him, again, not the expected reaction. If he’d been reading porn and someone busted him, he did not think he’d be able to sit there so calmly.