Sitting down in my seat in the front row, I open my backpack to pull out my notebook, but it’s not there. “What the …?” I unzip the front pocket and look inside. My heart starts pounding as I think about where I had it last. It was in this class yesterday. I didn’t work on it last night at home because it was finished.
“Elli, you’re up,” Mr. Hamilton states, getting my attention.
“Shit,” I hiss to myself.
“Something wrong?” he asks.
My eyes lift to his, and he arches a brow. His hands are on the hips of his Armani slacks. Pretty sure he teaches this class for shits and giggles since he lives off his daddy’s money. He’s got some Fortune 500 company based out of New York. He’s a Lord. Barrington University is for the one-percenters. You can’t escape them here.
His dark brown eyes stare at me expectantly.
“I, uh … no.” I rip my bag open again and drop my eyes to look inside it once more as if it will appear like magic. It’s not that I don’t remember it by heart. It’s just that if I don’t have it on me, then where the fuck is it? “It’s just—”
The door swings open, and all the air rushes out of my lungs when I see three guys enter the room. Three men who do not have this class. My eyes shoot to the professor, and his brows crease. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” Mr. Hamilton asks. He allows outside spectators, but these three would never willingly want to be in here.
“We’re going to join your class for the day,” Sin answers.
He looks even better than he did this morning in the kitchen, if that’s possible. He’s got on a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans and tennis shoes. That’s it. But I can’t help but notice the way his shirt pulls against his broad shoulders, and his abs are visible through the thin fabric. The jeans fit snugly on his thighs, and I look lower to see if I get the same visual as I did this morning in the sweatpants. I do.
My heart beats wildly in my chest. So loud that it makes it hard to breathe.
“Uh, I’m not sure—”
“That’s not a problem, is it?” Corbin interrupts the professor.
“No. No problem.” Mr. Hamilton shakes his head, running his hand down his button-up. A clear sign he doesn’t approve, but he’s also not going to turn them away.
No one turns away these men. They are what you call royalty at Barrington University. Get straightA’s even though they never show up to their classes. A Lord can do as minimal as possible and graduate with honors. As long as they complete their assignments and survive, they’re rewarded.
I sit frozen in my seat as the three of them walk toward me. They come to a stop in front of my desk, and I look up at them through my lashes, my lips parted, trying to calm my breathing.What the fuck are they doing?
A part of me knows. I just refuse to believe it.
The corners of Sin’s lips tilt up, and my pulse races at his silent threat.
“You’re in my seat,” Corbin barks at the guy to my right, making us both jump.
The kid gets up and scrambles away, not even bothering to take his things. Corbin takes the seat next to me, shoving the guy’s stuff to the floor, and sits back, getting comfortable by spreading his legs. With his hands interlocked behind his head, his head falls to the side to look at me. His unruly dark hair flopping across his eyes.
I avoid his stare.
“Move,” Jayce demands the girl to my left.
Fuck!
She does as she’s told but much slower with a smile on her face. I’m pretty sure she tells him to call her later as she walks away, making sure to run her hand across his upper chest and winking at him. Her intentions are very clear. She leaves the room altogether, obviously having something better to do for now.
“I’ll take your seat, Elli,” Sin tells me. His voice instantly has my pussy wet, my thighs clenching.
I swallow nervously. “I—”
“You have a story to read,” Sin adds and then pulls a notebook out of the backpack that hangs on one shoulder, slapping it down on my desk.
My heart stops when I see my name written in black marker across the top. How did he get this? Where the hell did he get this? Blood rushes in my ears and sweat beads across my forehead. I never get nervous when reading my stories. They’re more like fantasies. As far as the class is concerned, it’s sexual scenarios. Mr. Hamilton says reading sex scenes out loud will prepare us to be comfortable hearing couples talk about their sexual experiences once we’re seeing clients. What they want and what they’re lacking in their relationships.
Why am I anxious now? Is it because I’ve had a crush on him since as far back as I can remember?
I’m not sure why I care if I have to read it in front of him and his friends. They’ve already read it, I’m sure.