Her Filthy Professor

If someone told me that the only one who could break my writer’s block was my student, I would’ve sought her a long time ago.

*Grace. *

Beautiful, sexy, smart, and sassy—all the things I never thought I wanted.

When she steps into the classroom on the first day of class, I feel the floor give way from underneath me.

This can’t be real. She can’t be real.

But she is, and when I realize that the sudden, intense feeling I have isn’t one way, I throw caution to the wind, putting everything on the line—my job, her scholarship, our reputations.

The thing is, it’s hard to give a fuck about myself anymore. As long as she’s mine and she has everything she wants and needs, I’m good.

What can I say? I’d give my own life to make her happy.

Without her, nothing means anything to me.