Forbidden Professor – Southern Heat Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
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We ran into Faison again as we walked, hand in hand, along the main strip. He was chatting up a girl when we passed and the two of them joined us when Camden told them we were heading to the club nearby. It was a surprise to me that we were heading there too. I thought we were just milling around, but Camden mentioned the place by name and seemed to know where he was going.

A prickling of suspicion entered the back of my mind. I knew he wasn’t lying when he said he had never done any of this before, but I was wondering what he was up to. He said that he had made reservations and had everything planned out before we left but had been rather vague beyond the hotel as to what that meant. I decided not to ask questions and go with the flow, hoping to help him do the same, but now I was questioning that approach.

What was he up to?

We made our way to the club that he mentioned and got inside after waiting in a short, quickly moving line. The bouncer had looked at our IDs for an extra second before looking us over. I got the impression he was thrown by our birthdates and immediately suspicious of them until he got a good look at our faces. It was the first time since we had been there that I had been made to feel much older than the rest of the partygoers. It was always something in the back of my mind, but no one else had seemed to bring it up until then.

The club was dark and loud as we made our way in, and once we made it into the main part of the club, I saw what was going on and almost said we should leave.

There was a large bar in the middle of the room, and a DJ was speaking loudly, hyping something that was upcoming. On either side of the bar were women in bikinis dancing, and the crowd of onlookers were dancing with drinks in the air. Faison was leading the way to the bar, and we followed him and the girl he had seemingly connected with. I missed her name, but I had a feeling neither one of them particularly cared about names at that moment.

Music blared as we all got drinks and made our way back to the crowd to dance. Camden was loosening up, and the perpetual smile on his face was infectious. He also was starting to move on the dance floor in a way that shocked me a bit.

Suddenly, the DJ was back, his deep voice filling the air before a host of women in white T-shirts started climbing on top of a small strip of stage along the side of the bar. A row of young men lined up in front of them, and I put two and two together and laughed.

“It’s a wet T-shirt contest,” I yelled. “I never actually have seen one of these in person.”

“Me either,” he said, laughing, then looking down at his own white T-shirt. “Hey, wait a second.”

I laughed and took a sip of my drink. When the drink was pulled down from my lips, his face replaced it, and he planted a big, deep kiss on me. As he pulled away, I went to say something to him, but he was already moving toward the stage, and in my shock, I didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly, he was hopping on the stage, and the water was being shot at the girls, and now Camden, from the row of guys in front of them. The crowd erupted in cheers as he danced in the slowly concentrating shots from the water guns and the attention of everyone on stage. Even the DJ was into it as Camden became the focus of the attention, spinning around a few times. The water soaked his shirt to his body, and he started digging around in the khaki shorts he had put on over his swimming trunks.

He pulled out something and looked around the room, wiping water from his eyes. He had a big grin on his lips as he dropped down to one knee, arms stretched out in front of him as he found me in the crowd. I saw the thing in his hand was a small box. The water stopped shooting, and the crowd audibly gasped. The DJ waved off the music and ran over to him, sticking the mic in his face.

“Kristen,” Camden called, “Kristen, will you marry me?”

I couldn’t believe it. It was hilarious and impulsive and weird.

And so much fun.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Faison’s nameless date said from behind me as the crowd began to push me toward the stage.

“Yes!” I shouted over the murmuring sound of the crowd, and the music turned down almost to nothing.



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