Page 10 of Full Service

“Enjoy it. Or at least I hope you do.”

“I will,” I reply before making my way outside.

It’s sunny here, even in late winter. That’s what I love about Southern California. It’s always blue skies, with the occasional rainstorm that sends everyone into a panic. We had one last week and the strip joint closed up shop for the day. I may have spent the entire day jacking off to thoughts of Dr. Sinclair instead of studying.

What a fantastic day that was.

I imagined all the different ways we could fuck each other.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder as I make my way toward class. It’s my senior year and I only have one semester left. I transferred to Franklin U my sophomore year and have really enjoyed my time here. But at the same time, I can’t fucking wait to be done. Because, while I’ve enjoyed the experiences I’ve had, I can’t wait to have a degree in something useful so I can quit stripping. Not that I’m not thankful for the opportunities that job’s provided me, but I’m just kind of over it.

Unless it’s Dr. Sinclair who is sitting in the audience. I’d dance for him any day.

Honestly, you could say I have a little bit of a crush, and have since I saw him on campus last sophomore year. When he showed up at the club, I about died.

I had to fight to be the one writhing on his lap that night.

Speaking of, my eyes pivot to the science center that I’ll be working in for the rest of the semester. It’s a tall, sleek building with state-of-the-art technology that was built five years ago with a donation from one of the rich alumni who attended the university.

I stop walking and my eyes swivel around the area just out front. And there he is, sitting under a tree on a blanket, his laptop out, his khaki-clad legs stretched out before him. He’s wearing a fitted suit and tie, his dark beard neatly trimmed, his hair perfectly combed.

I’d like to run my fingers through it again. Just like I did that night. Mess it up a bit. See him a little mussed and ruffled. I want to lay him down on the blanket and rut against him and watch him gasp as he explodes in his pants.

My dick starts to swell at the thought, and I force my gaze away. I should not go over there and make small talk with him. I definitely should not. I have a class in thirty minutes. I need to focus on my studies and graduating with honors, not flirting with a man who’s out of my league.

But despite my internal protests, I make my way over to him, skirting past Jay, another student who happens to be in biology club with me. He’s protesting something, wearing a whale shirt and chanting about oil drilling. Fuck me. That’s a mood right there. It’s the first week of class and these activists have endless energy. I swear these people never sleep.

Although, if I were an activist for something, I’d be a Dr. Sinclair activist, and I wouldn’t sleep either.

I’d be too busy trying to activate that man right onto my cock.

Without another thought, I plop down on the blanket right next to him. My presence startles him, and he gasps softly.

“Mr. Winslow,” he says, that rough voice making my skin tingle. He should absolutely not call me Mr. Winslow. It does things to my libido. Actually, Dr. Sinclair does things to my libido just by existing. He is an obsession of mine.

Has been ever since I laid eyes on him. And even more so after he came just from me dancing over his dick.

I’ve always wanted what I can’t have. It’s an issue.

“Hi there,” I say, my lips pulling up into a smile. My fingers trail across the wool blanket, skirting past his leg. “I just saw you out here, catching some rays, and I wanted to say hello.”

“Hello,” he mutters and turns his gaze down to his laptop. He’s wearing sunglasses, so I can’t see where he’s looking, but I sure as fuck hope it’s at me. I wouldn’t mind being ogled by this man. He did it that night, his eyes dark and hooded. Needy.

Lust.

So much lust.

I know it’s unprofessional, and I said I’d behave and be professional, but fuck, I sure did like making him come. If he wasn’t a professor and technically my boss, I’d give him a private lap dance right now.

But that’s off the table.

Dr. Sinclair seems like a rule-following man. I have very little confidence I’d be able to help him break any of them. Seems that night at the club was a bit of a fluke.

But like I said, I always want what I can’t have, so it looks like my obsession is settling in for the long haul.

“How are your classes going?” I ask and lean forward, propping my elbows on my knees. He glances at my arms and then at me.

Hm, caught him. Fuck yes.