Page 9 of Lesbian Professor (Sapphic Sweethearts #6)

Polly

“ Y ou’re in her Creative Writing class?” Max asks. He lets out a long, low whistle, and I watch him.

“You don’t have to look so happy about it,” I say.

“Oh, I’m not.”

“You look happy.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Then wipe the shit-eating grin off your face,” I say.

“You really didn’t know?” Max asks.

“No.”

“She didn’t have like, a lot of books at her apartment?”

“We went to my place,” I say.

“Polly! You could have been murdered. You never take lovers back to your place.”

“Well, sorry,” I say. “Nobody told me the rules.”

And even if they had, I’m not sure I would have obeyed them.

“You know what? It’s fine,” he says. “It’s totally fine.”

“I didn’t get murdered.”

“But you could have,” he says. “But yeah, it’s fine.”

“You’re making me think that it’s not fine.”

He shrugs.

“Just tell me what happened,” he says. “Start from the beginning.”

“I met a hot lady at the bar.”

“Amazing.”

“We went back to her place.”

“Hot.”

“She fucked me like crazy.”

He smiles.

“And I fucked her back,” I say.

“You? Really? I didn’t picture you for a top.”

“I don’t know if I’m a top or not,” I say. “I had fun, though.”

“Ah, you’re a bottom,” he laughs.

“Whatever.”

“Keep going,” Max says.

“Well, we had this amazing night together, you know? Absolutely, totally amazing.”

“And what happened?”

“I woke up alone.”

That part kind of hurts. She doesn’t owe me anything, of course. She doesn’t need to say goodbye. I mean, we just had some fun together. No strings attached, right? That was what I wanted.

Well, it was what I thought I wanted.

“That’s rough,” Max says. “I hate waking up alone, especially when you think you have a connection.”

“That’s happened to you before?” Max and I don’t talk about his personal life too much. Sometimes he shares, but not really. Most of the time, we just shit talk the patrons who annoy us. We find fun ways to pass the time, but no, we don’t usually share.

“Yes,” he says, and he leaves it at that.

“Anyway, I figured that was it, you know? Like, that was the message. We had fun. It was over. She left. I had to rush to class. I didn’t even take a damn shower, Max. Like, I just went.”

“Funny.”

“It wasn’t funny because when I got to class, she was my professor.”

“Did she act weird?”

I thought about it. Had she been weird? Not really. She didn’t say anything to me right away. She kind of just treated me like the other students. I wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad.

“Not really.”

“Did she act like she didn’t know you?”

“Sort of, a little. I mean, she just played it cool, I guess.”

“What happened after the class?”

“This,” I say. I hold my hand out, and he reads off her number.

“What the hell is this, Polly?”

“Her phone number.”

“She wrote it down?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Like we’re in the 1900s?”

“Yeah.”

“How old is she?”

“Old enough to know this is a bad idea,” I say.

“And what about you, Polly?”

“I’m old enough, too,” I say.

But I don’t think I’m going to let this stop me.

I like her so much more than I should, so much more than I ought to, and the idea of fucking a professor is too exciting not to try.

“I heard her read today,” I say. “She read us a story, and I loved it.”

“A sexy story?”

“It was sexy coming from her.”

“Oh, you’ve got it bad, girl,” Max says.

“I know,” I say.

“You going to call her?”

“Do you think I should?”

“No,” he says.

“Why not?”

“I think that if you’re going to blow up your life, you need to have a really good reason,” he says. “You’ll get in trouble with the school if they find out.”

“They won’t find out,” I say.

He laughs.

“All right, Polly. All right.”