Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 35479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Shawn’s heart sank. A part of him had hoped Rutledge would take pity on him if he told him about his situation and let him turn in his assignments late. But apparently, Rutledge didn’t care and didn’t want to listen to “sob stories.”
Shawn’s jaw tightened. His pride urged him to turn around and leave, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose the scholarship. His sisters depended on him.
Suddenly, he remembered Christian’s ridiculous advice.
…says Professor Rutledge has a weakness for pretty boys… I’m just saying you can be all flirty and shit without actually doing anything with him…
“Mr. Wyatt?”
Shawn flinched, flushed and looked back at the man.
“What are you still doing in my office? You’re dismissed.”
Looking at Rutledge’s hard expression, Shawn couldn’t for the life of him imagine flirting with him. “Flirting” and “Professor Rutledge” shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence, period. And Shawn didn’t have much experience with flirting, anyway: the few girls he’d had sex with hadn’t required any seducing. Truth be told, he usually didn’t have to make any effort at all.
Shawn took a deep breath in and met Rutledge’s eyes. “Sir, I…” He swallowed. “Is there any way I can get a better grade? I’ll do anything. Anything.”
Rutledge stared at him.
Then, his eyes narrowed.
“Mr. Wyatt,” he said at last. “Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?”
Shawn swallowed again. Was he? He wasn’t sure himself what he was suggesting. “Um, yeah?”
Rutledge’s nostrils flared. He leaned back in his chair and studied him intently. “Please clarify to avoid confusion.”
Shawn swept his gaze around the room before looking down at his feet and shrugging. His sneakers were worn, but he couldn’t afford new ones. “I think you know, sir.”
Silence.
Seconds ticked by.
“I see,” Rutledge said. “Lock the door and come over here.”
Shawn’s stomach lurched. His legs unsteady, he walked to the door and locked it, all the while trying to ignore the panicked little voice in his head that was yelling at him, What are you doing?
Looking anywhere but at Rutledge, he rounded the desk and stopped next to his professor, his heart pounding in his throat. Rutledge turned in his chair so that he was facing Shawn now. Shawn focused his gaze on the dark fabric of the professor’s suit.
“On your knees,” Rutledge said softly.
Dropping to his knees was almost a relief, as unsteady as his legs were.
Rutledge took his chin with his fingers and tipped his head up, forcing Shawn to meet his gaze.
“I can have you expelled for this,” he said.
Shawn’s eyes widened.
Rutledge cast him a look of such loathing Shawn flinched. “I have students who never miss classes and work very hard just to get a C. And then there are pretty, empty-headed boys like you who think if they suck my dick, they’ll get a good grade.”
Shawn felt his face heat up. Hearing the word “dick” from Professor Rutledge was weird as hell. Weird and downright obscene.
Rutledge’s grip on Shawn’s chin tightened. “Do you think it’s fair, Wyatt?”
Shawn swallowed, but he forced himself to meet the man’s gaze firmly. “If you’re going to report this to the board, remember that I didn’t say a word about sucking your dick, Professor. You did. If you report me, I’ll report you.”
A muscle in Rutledge’s jaw twitched. “You little shit.” His other hand sank into Shawn’s hair and yanked him closer to his crotch. “Fine. You want a passing grade? Go ahead. Try to impress me.”
Shawn sucked a breath in.
Rutledge smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Backing out already?”
“No,” Shawn said firmly and reached for the guy’s zipper, telling himself it was just a dick. He would suck the guy’s dick and get a passing grade. How difficult could it possibly be? It would probably taste disgusting, but it wouldn’t kill him or anything.
Right.
Slowly, he unzipped the professor’s pants and then… then he stopped. No matter what he told himself, he couldn’t move, staring, transfixed, at the bulge under the man’s black boxers.
Rutledge let out an irritated noise. “As I thought. Get out, and if you bother me again—”
“No.” Shawn shoved a hand into Rutledge’s boxers and grabbed his cock.
A beat passed.
Shawn was torn between laughing hysterically and panicking. He had a hand on another guy’s cock. Professor Rutledge’s cock.
It was warm in his hand. That was his first thought. It was growing and becoming thicker with every passing second. It freaked him out a bit, but it also gave him confidence. No matter what Rutledge said, he wanted him.
Shawn gave it an experimental squeeze and looked at the guy. Rutledge’s face remained impassive. For some reason, that pissed Shawn off. He smiled. “Looks like you have a thing for ‘pretty, empty-headed boys,’ Professor.”
Rutledge’s lips pressed together. Otherwise, he looked almost bored. “It’s just a physiological reaction to stimuli and a pretty face. You are not responsible for your physical appearance, so it’s hardly something to be proud of. Now, if you really intend to do it, stop wasting my time.”